Her smile is faint, but her eyes are flat. She’s not buying it. “It’s okay. You want to pay now or should I start you a tab?”
“I already have one going. Put it under Knox Maguire.”
Her eyes go a little wide, recognizing my name, but I don’t acknowledge it, or her.
At least I apologized.
I settle my ass on the closest empty barstool and bring the shot glass to my lips, bracing myself before I toss it back. The alcohol slides down my throat in a fiery path, coursing through my blood before it settles in my belly, warming me from the inside. I consider ordering another but nurse the beer instead.
There’s more laughter coming from Derek—it’s easy to hear that annoying snort laugh above everything else—and I turn around on the barstool, watching as he continues to engage in conversation with both Natalie and Joanna.
Somehow he worked his charm on her and won her over, the lucky bastard. Natalie is just as flirtatious with him as she was last Saturday night, though now she’s in a hotter outfit and Derek can’t keep his eyes—or hands—off her. Joanna stands between them and a few steps back, her gaze ping-ponging back and forth as the couple flirts and laughs. She’s got a glass in her hand and when she brings it up to her lips, I catch her staring.
At me.
I don’t look away, leaning my elbows on the counter behind me, trying to look relaxed. Like I’ve got all night for her to approach me, but my heart is pounding and the blood is roaring in my ears.
Damn it, why won’t she come talk to me?
She never will. I realize quickly that she’s not going to approach me, so I spin around on the stool, grab the beer and down it before I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth. The bartender walks by me, stopping short when she spots my empty glass.
“You want another?”
“No thanks. Can we cash out?”
“Of course.” Her smile is polite as she turns to the register and rifles through the credit cards lying nearby. She picks mine up and starts adding up my drinks, printing out a receipt before she hands it over to me along with my card.
I sign the receipt with a flourish, making sure to give her a fat tip. “Thank you for putting up with me.”
“Night,” she calls absently as she heads over to another customer, who’s just come up to the bar.
I slide off my seat, slipping the credit card and my copy of the receipt into my wallet before I shove it into the back pocket of my jeans. I’ve got nothing to lose, I remind myself. Go talk to her.
Standing up straighter, mentally reminding myself that I’m Knox Fucking Maguire and no girl is going to make me feel down on myself, I head over to where Derek and the women are standing, stopping directly across from Joanna.
“Hey.” Derek smiles at me, and it takes everything I’ve got not to scowl at him. “What’s up, bro?”
“Wanted to say hi to Joanna.” My gaze never strays from hers.
The air ripples with tension as we stare at each other. To the point that Derek clears his throat while Natalie grins like a mad woman.
Clearly, she’s aware of our situation.
“You know Joanna?” Derek finally asks.
I glance over at him, wondering how much he remembers from Saturday night. Knowing him, it’s not much. “She’s my English tutor.”
Yep. I decided to lay it all out there.
Derek’s brows shoot up. “No shit? I didn’t know you were a tutor.”
“Yeah, I am.” She takes a sip from her drink, her gaze still on mine. “Knox is my student.”
I incline my head toward her, thankful for the acknowledgement.
Even more thankful Derek didn’t focus on the fact that I need a tutor.
“So we all know each other. That’s cool.” Derek bobs his head, looking like an idiot, and I open my mouth, ready to insult him when Natalie steps forward, grabs hold of Derek’s arm and steers him toward the bar.