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I rolled my eyes and turned back toward the new bartender. “It’s an abusive relationship.”
Zach laughed. “Sounds like you’ve been having all kinds of relationship problems lately.”
I took a sip from my drink to mask my mortification. “You heard all that, huh?”
Zach nodded at one of the hockey fanatics who was holding up two fingers in our direction. Pulling down a couple of dusty glass mugs from an overhead shelf, he turned and began filling one from the beer tap behind him.
Glancing at me over his shoulder, Zach said, “It’s none of my business, but I have a theory, if you wanna hear it.”
“A theory about the guy I’m seeing?”
Zach set one mug down and began filling the second. “No. Just a theory about guys in general.”
“Dude, I need all the help I can get. Spill it.”
Tossing me a lopsided smile, Zach delivered the beers and returned to his spot in front of me. “You ready? I’m about to drop some serious fucking science.”
I grinned and nodded enthusiastically.
Casting a sideways glance in both directions, Zach leaned forward. “Dicks…are like golden retrievers.”
My face screwed up in confusion. “That’s your theory?”
“Yep.” Zach smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Think about it. They get excited when they see something they want. They’re shit at communication. And, if they like you, they’ll follow you around until you finally give in and play with them.”
I snorted out a laugh that sent fizzy bubbles up into my nose. “And how is that supposed to help me?”
“Well, now that you know how dicks work, all you have to do is watch. If a guy is into you, he’ll find reasons to be near you.”
“In case I decide I want to pet his golden retriever?”
“Exactly.” Zach beamed. He had a dimple on his left cheek that I hadn’t noticed before. “You can’t pet it if you’re not there, right? So, he’ll want to keep you as close as possible.”
It wasn’t lost on me that, at that exact moment, Zach was the one who was close. Very close.
I dropped my eyes as a prickly heat scorched my neck and cheeks. Focusing on his thick, masculine fingers, which were laced together on the bar between us, I made out the words WORK and PLAY tattooed across his knuckles.
“So…” I swallowed and forced myself to meet his whiskey-colored gaze. “What if this guy finds ways to be near me, but then, when we’re together, all he wants to do is watch movies until I fall asleep on the couch?”
“Ha! That’s an easy one.” Zach chuckled. “He’s gay.”
“Oh my God!” I squealed, slapping the splintery bar with both hands. “Gay! Why didn’t I think of that? This whole time, I thought he was just a serial killer!”
“Hey!” Juliet barked as she rounded the corner at the end of the bar. “Gay people can be serial killers, too, asshole.”
