PartII
Flirt Coach
6
Nora
Weston was right about one thing—I was already second-guessing myself.
I’d changed into a black dress and my favorite pair of red-bottomed heels, which I only pulled out when I needed moral support. Now, we were in Weston’s Subaru, driving downtown, and I had no idea if this was the right thing to do.
Me, pick up guys? Learn how to flirt? Let loose?
It seemed…impossible.
And yet here I was, fidgeting up a storm, but still on my way to do it.
“Are you sure about this?”
He’d thrown on dark jeans, a black T-shirt, and a bomber jacket before we left. His hair fell forward into his eyes when he looked at me. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do this, but I’m here for you if you want.”
“I…” I didn’t know what I wanted. I wanted to be over August. I was so pissed at him for everything he’d done, and I didn’t know how to do it alone. “Are you sure I’ll be able to learn?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. You just need the nudge to do it.”
“Okay. Yeah.” I swallowed down my fear and tilted my chin up. “Yes. I want to do it.”
He must have seen the resolve on my face because he nodded. “All right. What’s your experience in a bar situation? I’m sure you’ve had a guy buy you a drink. Get your number?” He glanced over at me, and I was already shaking my head. “Really? I find that hard to believe.”
“I’ve never even had a guy buy me a drink. I mean, besides August,” I added lamely.
“How? How is that possible?”
“Tamara,” I whispered the word. “She was always the center of every situation. Sometimes, she got drinks for both of us, but it was never me.”
“Hmm,” he said, rubbing a hand along the scruff across his jaw. “Well then, that’s our goal tonight. A guy to buy you a drink and ask for your number.”
“And how do I do that?”
“Honestly, for women, it’s so much easier. All you have to do is put yourself out there. If you’re hot and smile at a guy, it’s pretty likely he’ll come over and talk to you to buy you a drink.”
I blinked at him. “It is not that easy.”
He laughed as he pulled into the parking lot of Flips. “It really is.”
I hopped out of the car and walked around to meet him on the other side. “So, I just stand here?”
The night was dark, and stars sparkled overhead, dulled by the soft light pollution in the city. It was only bright enough to illuminate the sharp contours of his jaw as he stepped in close to me.
“Like this.” His arm brushed against mine. I shivered at the contact as our eyes met. “Hey. I’m Weston. Haven’t seen you here before.”
I blinked up at him at his nearness. Our bodies were so close together. “Hi,” I breathed.
He towered over me, and I had to tilt my head up to get a good look at his face. My heart was pounding in my chest. And suddenly, the entire world disappeared. It was just the two of us, standing in a packed parking lot.
“I’m…I’m Nora,” I offered.
“Nora,” he said with a certain look and a smile. “I like that.”
“Thanks.” I tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear and broke eye contact as my face flushed. Somehow, even here, in this pretend situation, I could get embarrassed.
Weston reached out and tilted my head back up to look at him. “Don’t hide from me.”
I gulped. “I…wasn’t.”
“Pretend this is an event you planned,” he encouraged. “You’re in charge. This is your world now.”
My spine straightened at those words. This was just another event I’d put together. This was my domain. I existed here. A confident smile came to my face. “I’m ready.”
Weston’s eyes dipped to my lips, and then he dropped his hand, stepping back and nodding. He cleared his throat. “Better.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Let’s get you inside and try it out. Hold on to that energy.”
I took a step away from him, afraid that I’d pushed him away. We’d been so close and then so, so far away. My stomach twisted in confusion. Weston was helping me. That was all this was, but still, when he’d lifted my chin, everything had gone blissfully silent.
Flips was the best option for this little experiment because it wasn’t the kind of bar I’d frequented when I was a Texas Tech undergrad. Tamara and I were all about Cricket’s and Chimy’s. We’d prowl Broadway, laughing, drunk on cheap booze. All those memories were now tainted with a sheen of blue. The ache of her betrayal and pain of knowing I could never get any of those years back.
Flips was known for their lunchtime hot-dog menu. At night, it transformed into the perfect dive bar, complete with a long bar on the far side of the room and pool tables at the back. The place was packed, and no one paid any mind to Weston and me stepping inside.
“See if you can grab a seat. I’ll get us drinks. What do you like?”
“Uh…whatever you want.”