Did I seem this needy when I mentioned that I liked kissing to Berk?
If I did, I’m even more mortified than I thought I was.
“I’m good, but thanks.”
Lyle laughs. “Your loss, Assie.”
“Astrid,” I correct him.
“I know,” he reassures me with a hand on my forearm. “I think every beautiful girl deserves a nickname. Assie fits you.”
I have no idea if that nickname is related to my name or my ass.
Either way, I never want to hear it again. “I prefer Astrid.”
His gaze glides over my face. “What school do you go to?”
That question likely has a lot to do with the fact that Eloise and I were carded when Heath ordered our drinks. The server smiled and then demanded to see some ID. It was the same woman who carded me the other night when I was in here with Berk. She was friendlier then, probably because she knew that Berk had the potential to be a generous tipper.
Heath tossed an extra dollar in her direction when he paid for our drinks and told her not to spend it all in one place.
“I graduated a few years ago,” I clue Lyle in. “I own my own business.”
I don’t delve into my pursuit of a career in music because that feels like a waste.
Lyle is looking for the same thing Heath is.
Sex.
I’m not opposed to one-night stands, but Lyle isn’t my type, so he won’t be scoring with me tonight.
I look him in the eye. “You seem like a nice guy, but I’m not interested.”
That lures a chuckle from him. “You get straight to the point.”
I smile. “I guess I do.”
“Are you involved with someone?” he asks before he drinks from the bottle of beer in his hand.
I shake my head. “I’m not.”
“Ouch.” He swallows hard. “That stings.”
I reach for his forearm. “It’s not you. It’s me.”
“Double ouch.” He pushes a fist into the center of his chest. “I can feel my heart breaking.”
I can’t hold back a laugh. “I’m serious.”
“There’s more to me than a guy looking to hook up.” He perks a dark brow. “I’m studying to be a software engineer. I take my mom out for dinner every Sunday, and I stop to pet every dog I see.”
I lean back in my chair and rake him over. “Why didn’t you say so? That changes everything.”
He studies me for what feels like an endless moment. “I know you.”
“I guess so.” I shrug. “We just met. I wouldn’t call us friends. We’ll never be lovers, but maybe acquaintances works?”
Shaking his head, he smiles. “You’re driving home the point that you’re not interested in me that way, Astrid. Message received.”
“Clarity is essential in all relationships, even those that are thirty minutes old.”
He dips his chin. “You’re a singer. You’re a fucking good singer, aren’t you? I’ve seen you before. I think at the subway station on 53rd. Or it might have been on Broadway. I can’t say for certain where the hell it was, but it was somewhere, and you’re damn good.”
“She’s better than good.”
Goosebumps pepper my skin at the sound of that voice. It’s coming from behind me.
Lyle looks in that direction. “Do I know you?”
A strong hand lands on my shoulder. “No, but I know her.”
I glance up and into the face of the man who hasn’t left my thoughts since the last time I was in this bar. “Hey, Berk.”
“Hey, you,” he says in a deep growl. “Tell me I’m not interrupting anything.”
I smile. “You’re not.”
“Ahh.” Lyle laughs. “I understand the brush-off now.”
“You understand what?” Berk questions before I can get a word out.
“Who are you?” Eloise finally pulls herself out of her Heath fog to pay attention to what’s going on around her.
I clear my throat, hoping my voice will remain steady. “Eloise, this is…”
“You’re Hot Dad, aren’t you?” she interrupts my attempted introduction. “You have to be him because you’re exactly how I pictured you when Astrid told me about you.”
“I’m him,” Berk says without missing a beat. “It’s good to meet all of you.”
Chapter Twenty
Berk
Hot Dad.
That’s a first for me, but I’m not complaining.
I don’t wait for an invitation to join the foursome. Instead, I pull an empty chair from the table next to them and sit my ass between Astrid and the guy who has been hitting on her since he sat down.
I was at the bar then, nursing a bottle of the same beer I indulged in the other night when I was here with Astrid.
I saw her walk in with a brunette woman.
It took all the self-control I had not to approach her then, but I was with someone. Grayson Marks, a professor at NYU, wanted to meet up. I’ve been trying to secure a meeting with him for weeks, and today was the day he had time to squeeze me in.
He suggested this area of town, so I tossed out the name of this bar.