And although he always lingered when he served me drinks with that heart-stopping smile and those dancing aquamarine eyes, I couldn’t tell if the attraction was one-sided. He likely flirted with most of the girls in the bar. After all, he was trying to get tips.
“Same as usual, Ashlyn?” His velvety voice caressed my name, thrumming deeper than the heavy bassline that pulsed through the bar.
“Um, yes, please,” I breathed. I was far from composed, but I couldn’t help getting hot and flustered when he captured me in his intense, flame-blue gaze. With his dark eyelashes and sensual mouth, his features might have seemed almost feminine. But the sharp line of his stubble-covered jaw and defined cheekbones were decidedly masculine. His black hair curled slightly around his chiseled face. I craved to run my fingers through it, to see if it was as thick and soft as it appeared.
His eyes finally dropped from mine as he filled a small plastic cup with ice, poured a generous measure of orange vodka, and topped it with cranberry juice. I sucked in a breath when he released me from his gaze, and my own hungry stare drifted lower as I admired the way his muscles bulged and flexed beneath his indecently tight black t-shirt.
My tongue darted out to wet my lips. I could feel his eyes burning into me once again, and I realized he’d noticed my wanton reaction to him. My cheeks flamed, and I stared at the highly polished bar top.
He set the drink in front of me, but he didn’t draw away. His hand lingered on the cup, waiting for me to take it. I peeked up at him, wondering for the hundredth time if there was more to his flirtatious behavior than a desire for a tip.
My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for the drink, anticipating the physical contact. When my hand closed around the chilled cup, he slid his fingers between mine. The light glide of his calloused skin made my flesh pebble, and I suppressed a shiver.
“Hey, are you done?” An annoyed, feminine voice sounded from behind me.
I jolted away from Joseph, the moment shattered. My embarrassment surged in a searing wave, and I tossed a five-dollar bill into the tip jar before darting away, nearly spilling my beverage as I hastened to put distance between us.
I weaved through the crowd, returning to Jayme. My best friend leaned on a high table in the back corner, smirking at me. My body still burned with mortification and something darker that I chose to ignore. I could barely meet her sparkling green eyes.
She flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and addressed me drily. “So, where’s my drink?”
Crap.
I’d been so flustered by my body’s helpless reaction to Joseph that I’d forgotten to get a vodka-cranberry for my friend, too.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I, um, got distracted.”
“Of course you did. Hottie McHotstuff was practically eye-fucking you for five minutes. When are you going to hit that, girl?”
I shook my head. Jayme might be completely confident when it came to ensnaring men—different guys rotated in and out of our apartment on a regular basis—but I was more reserved. Well, to be honest, I was shy. And wary, after being cheated on by my boyfriend last year. I was what Jayme termed a serial monogamist. I didn’t trust easily, so when I finally did start to open up to someone, I committed fully.
Jimmy cheating on me had set me back even further when it came to trust issues.
“You’re crazy for not tapping that,” Jayme declared. “You know Joseph would come home with you if you invited him. Let’s stay until close, and then you can make your move.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know that won’t happen. I wish you wouldn’t tease me about it.”
She held up her hands in a show of contrition. “I’m not teasing. I’m trying to get you some well-deserved action.”
I blew out a sigh. I couldn’t put myself on the line like that, especially when I feared rejection. Jayme seemed sure that my invitation would be accepted, but I wasn’t so certain. I still wasn’t convinced that Joseph was truly interested in me.
She made a little waving motion, shifting the subject. “Okay, let’s start with an easier mark, then. You know Stu is into you. You kissed at that house party last weekend. He’s kind of an entitled douche, but he’s hot. It’s not like you have to marry him or anything.” She smirked on the last, teasing just a little.
My pulse stuttered, but not in the same way Joseph affected me. This was a nervous reaction. The last time I’d been with Stu, he’d provided me with a steady supply of some mystery cocktail that’d been strong enough to burn my throat with every sip. I’d known it was highly alcoholic, but I’d overindulged to counteract my social anxiety. By the end of the night, I’d been rolling my hips while dancing with wild abandon, and Stu had moved in. I’d kissed him in a drunken frenzy in the middle of the party.