“In exchange for your name,” I offer.
She blinks a few times, then gives me a look of confusion. Like I should already know. Like everyone knows. Then she laughs. “Sylvia.”
Her friends give her a weird look, but I don’t give two shits if it’s a fake name—as long as I get her for the afterparty, I’m happy as a fucking clam in the ocean. My eyes slip to the Lakers game as she says something to her friends.
She climbs the stool next to me and rolls her eyes before shouting at the ref. I look around for Stephen, and I see him across the bar talking to the bartender. He huffs and walks away after downing his drink. I know he used to smoke and, for a second, I want to make sure he’s not relapsing, but I’m not going to ignore a girl like this.
We talk about the team, arguing some points, but she definitely agrees that the trade they made was bogus and that the coach needs to pull his head out of his ass. I can’t believe I have attention from a non-insane, non-groupie chick. She’s down-to-earth, gorgeous, and fucking easy to talk to.
A few guys try to shoot their shot, but she politely shoots them down. She’s nice enough that they leave smiling, but clear enough that they don’t think they have any kind of chance.
I can tell she knows what she’s doing, and I’m not surprised. I’m sure she gets hit on all the time, and it’s honestly hot to know she’s choosing me because of me and not because I’m the only one willing to talk to her.
Every fucking time she gives me her full attention, I feel myself melt. This girl is something else. She has my dick hard and my heart soft with her expressions, her laugh, her fucking comments.
We might as well be the only two people in the fucking club. She leans closer to me and I think for half a fucking second that she’s going to kiss me right here and now.
“You know I can tell exactly what you’re thinking. You should say it instead.” She smiles as her hair rolls over her shoulder, drawing my eyes down to her fucking superb cleavage. “Restraint is for pussies.”
I grin wickedly. “You wanna get out of here? I have a place.”
“Other than the back ally?” she teases.
“Yes or no, Sylvia. If that is your real name.”
“If it wasn’t, would you punish me?” The danger in her eyes is sexy as hell. It’s like her mouth never met a sassy comment it didn’t want to share.
“Only one way to find out, sweetheart.” I grin. “Let’s get out of here.”
Her eyes meet mine and she bites her lip. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. There’s not an ounce of hesitation and she knows exactly what she’s doing as she puts her hand on my thigh to lean forward. Her lush lips are driving me insane.
I want to throw her over my shoulder, drag her to the bathroom, and give her a fuck she’ll remember. But the house is better. There’s a bed, plus we won’t get interrupted and I can make her fucking moan like I want to. And I want her all to myself. She’s gotten me greedy without giving me a fucking answer.
Finally, she glances at her friends, then grabs my hand. “I have to tell my friends, then I’m all yours.”
Ugh. I let her go despite my obvious hard-on and replay her words in my head—I’m all yours.
Yes, you fucking are, sweetheart, and I’m going to show you what a good fucking choice you made.
Sylvia comes back to me and takes my hand. Her eyes leave mine for one moment.
“Do you need to tell your friend?”
“He’s a smart boy. He’ll figure it out.”
Grinning, she practically drags me out of the club, then watches as I raise my hand for a taxi, her arm sliding around my waist. I can’t get home fast enough.
Olivia
Iglance up at Chase again. He’s hot and cocky andfun. The kind of guy I never would have met in my usual circles, which is even better. It’s like he has nothing to prove, no business agenda. We’re just a guy and a girl with chemistry. There’s no underlying game or drama.
Jane and Iz aren’t thrilled that I’ve left them on girls’ night, but they are happy that I met a guy who could hopefully help bring an end to the pity parties I’ve been throwing for myself and dragging them to.
Beyond Chase’s good looks, which have my mouth watering already, he knows Scotch and sports and has intense opinions about everything while still being able to crack jokes. Most of the guys I know are afraid to crinkle their shirt collars, let alone shout at a TV over a game they can’t control.
Chase slides his hand over my thigh in the cab. “Regretting your choice yet?”
“Why would I?”