“I don’t know. Do you come here often?”
“Sometimes.”
“To meet guys?”
“Pfft, do I seem like a girl who comes to a bar to pick up men?” She rolled her eyes and retrieved her beer, taking a long swallow. Then, for no good reason in particular—she was drunk, he was cute—she decided to play along. “Say I did want to pick up a guy.”
“Say you did.” His brows hitched up a little, and he gave her an assessing look, clearly wanting to tread lightly now that things were going his way.
She still wasn’t sure she was going to sleep with him, because sex had so many strings attached no matter how careful she tried to be. But flirting with the idea of sex seemed harmless.
After all, it had been such a long time she was starting to worry there might be cobwebs in her vagina. What was the harm in feeling desired?
“Okay, say I was going to pick you up—”
“Me? Well, that’s awfully fresh of you, Miss Darling. I’m not some easy, floozy type, you know.”
Alice sighed, her bangs fluffing up. “Keep it up, Ross. See how far you get.”
“I’m putting my money on pretty far. You think I’m charming.”
“I think you’re infuriating.”
“It’s a fine line separating the two.”
“In your case I absolutely believe that.”
“Focus. We’re talking about you picking me up.”
“I’m trying to anyway.” She smirked, unable to resist. He really was charming. Goddamn him.
“Okay, what’s your question?”
“Where would we go?”
“My hotel?” Now the grinning, teasing aspect was gone. He was beginning to think she was serious, and for Alice’s part, she had already half-convinced herself. She grimaced at the idea of a hotel, though.
“Too…public.” The sports press was everywhere in Lakeland and the surrounding baseball towns. The last thing she needed was someone sniffing out a story when there wasn’t one.
“Uh…” They both knew her place was out. Even in this version, where he was a carpenter and she a mere waitress, there was still Olivia to keep in mind. And there was no way in hell Alice was bringing a man into her house for sex. Most awkward morning-after breakfast in history. “I’m not sure where that leaves us,” he admitted.
“My car is in the lot,” she said.
“I’m not letting you drive anywhere.”
“Who said anything about driving?”
Chapter Eight
Alex was glad she’d suggested her car instead of his. He didn’t think there was any way to wedge two people into the back of a Porsche, let alone give them enough maneuverability to have halfway decent sex. Even as they walked across the dimly lit parking lot, he wasn’t entirely convinced he was going to have sex.
Booze had given him a fat head, which made him bolder than he might normally be. He’d done his best to win Alice over, but would that end in him getting lucky, or was this some ploy to get them out of the bar so she could ditch him?
Sex or not, there was no way he’d let her drive.
His confidence was mostly posturing. He wouldn’t believe she wanted to have sex with him until he had his hands on her boobs. There was a chance he still might not believe it then.
Boobs had a tendency to make him question reality on a good day.