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Watching Nolan work is doing something to me that I was not prepared for. He’s charismatic in a way I’ve never seen. His whole demeanor shifts when he talks to a customer. There’s a flirty aspect to how he interacts with the people who come up to order a drink. Guy or girl, he charms them immediately. Every single person walks away with a bigger smile on their face than when they came up to the bar.
Naturally, the girls all swoon over him. I can’t blame them for turning up their sex appeal to get his attention. The man is fucking hot. Especially in his black jeans and T-shirt that’s molded to every muscle in his arms and chest.
What I wasn’t expecting was my gut to burn with jealousy as I watched all the girls flirt with him. I’ve never been one to get jealous. I always thought that it was a useless emotion. You either trust your partner or you don’t. Now that I’m experiencing it, I realize trusting Nolan isn’t the issue. I don’t like these women thinking he’s available. It makes me want to mark him in some way, which is a staggering thought. One I’m not going to dwell on right now.
To Nolan’s credit, he treats every customer the same, no matter their gender. He doesn’t give any of the women a shred of hope of getting with him. He also places every napkin with a phone number on the counter until they walk away. Then he throws them in the trash can that sits under the bar. It’s a discreet move that doesn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. He doesn’t look at me when it happens. It’s as if it’s an ingrained move he doesn’t even think about.
Let’s just say this whole night has been an effort in frustration. I want to jump him. I want to lick him to show every hussy in here that he’s mine, and then I want him to take me hard on top of the bar.
I throw back the rest of my drink at that thought. Who am I? Wanting to have sex in public has never been a fantasy of mine. Nolan does bring out the lascivious side of me, though. I’d never had phone sex before him either.
Fuck, I have got to stop thinking about this.
“Can I buy you another one?” a man asks from the barstool on my right. He’s a decent-looking guy. His sandy brown hair is swept off his forehead, and his brown eyes are sparking with interest. He’s probably in his late thirties, if I had to guess, and seems to be drinking alone.
“No, thank you.”
“What were you drinking?” He raises a finger at Nolan to get his attention. “You seem like a margarita kind of girl.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. I can’t decide if his high-handedness is in relationship to my Hispanic coloring or if he’s just a douchebag. It’s likely both.
Nolan comes over and cocks his head in question. I’m not entirely sure what he’s trying to ask me with that move. “What can I get ya?”
“Another whiskey for me and a margarita for her,” McDouche responds, tilting his head toward me.
“A margarita, eh?” Nolan questions, amusement lighting up his eyes.
“Seeing as how this gentleman didn’t seem to understand my refusal, I would rather have another old-fashioned, please. And not on his tab.”
Nolan slowly tilts his head to the side as he looks at McDouche. “Do you make a habit of ignoring a woman when she says no?”
“Come on, man.” He tries to play it off. “Who truly doesn’t want a free drink?”
“A woman who knows the danger of accepting a drink from a pushy man.” Nolan stares at the guy without reprieve.
“Whatever. I’m out of here.” The guy chugs back the rest of his whiskey and then walks out of the bar. I hope he left his credit card. Then when he needs it tomorrow, he won’t remember where it’s at. Karma’s a bitch.
“What an ass.” Nolan takes me in. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. That’s not the first, nor will it be the last, overconfident man I’ve had to deal with in my life.”
“Fucking ridiculous. Do you still want another old-fashioned?”
“Yeah, it’ll be my last. What time does the bar close?”
He starts to make my drink. “Not until one on Saturdays.”
“Right. Duh,” I say to cover my disappointment. How did I not think about a bar being open late on the weekend? “I bet you’re exhausted after a long night like that.”
“You’d be surprised. I stay pretty wired after we close. It takes a while for the adrenaline to leave my system.” Nolan sets my drink down in front of me. I try to hand him my card, but he waves me away. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it.”
“Thank you.” Right as he’s about to move to another customer, I find the courage to ask what I’ve wanted to ask him since I sat down. “Would you want to come over? Tonight, I mean.”
He raises his eyebrows. “I’d love to. It’ll be late, though. Are you sure that’s okay?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I might fall asleep before you get there, but Cody is going to be gone all day tomorrow with his friend, so I—we can sleep in.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
