When Moses came back, I was at the table waiting. I’d tried to speak toCraig,but the most he would give me was a nod. Such a Craig thing to do.
I didn’t know what I was doing here, with Moses, only that I was in no hurry to leave. We were having fun, and since my life revolved around work, pure, consuming fun was a rarity. Plus, I didn’t mind the way he flirted with me. If Declan being disappointed I’d decided against him was an ego boost, then having a younger, hot as hell rock star trying to get his swerve on with me was an ego rocket blast.
Mo stopped short when he saw me sitting. He set the drinks down on my table and put his hands on his hips. “I was promised dancing.”
I blinked up at him, biting my lip. “Dancing with you is dangerous.”
He squatted down in front of me, bringing us eye to eye. “Why, Michaela? Because you like it?” His hand slid up my arm, then back down. “You don’t want to admit you like when I touch you?”
His words gave me goosebumps, and I hated us both a little for that, because they sounded so practiced. I wondered how many women he’d already said that exact combination of words to. I wondered if he even felt anything as he said them, or if he was going through the motions—his fail-proof steps for seduction. He may not have even known he was doing it, it had become so ingrained in who he was.
But when I looked in his eyes again, saw how unguarded and open he was, I thought maybe there was more to this man. I had time. I was curious. I decided to find out.
“I do like it. I can admit that.” I brought my hand up to his face, letting my fingers skim his defined cheekbone and smooth, smooth skin. “But I wonder if you ever turn off. Can you ever justbe? Because, honestly, I’m more interested in talking to you than hearing lines you’ve said a hundred times. I think you’re better than that, and I wouldn’t mind knowing that part of you.”
He let out a breath that sounded like he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him and nearly fell back on his butt. He caught himself on the table and the back of my chair, and I stroked his cheek again.
“I’m okay with sitting here, getting drunk, and being silly too.” I picked up my fresh drink and took a sip. This was my fourth of the night, so I was beginning to feel it, but in a floaty, loose-tongued type of way. This was my sweet spot.
Mo pulled up a chair in front of me, his knees on either side of mine. “Think I’d like to justbewith you, Michaela.” He picked up his whiskey, swirling the ice around. “I might need another one of these to get me there.”
I shrugged. “I don’t have to be anywhere until ten in the morning. Why don’t we see how real we can be?”