Nick chuckled. “You seriously just said that?”
“I seriously did.” I grinned as I lifted the bottle to my mouth, taking a small sip.
He shrugged off his leather jacket, tossing it on the counter beside the bag. “I think I like you.”
“You need to remove ‘think’ from that statement,” I told him. “For it to be accurate.”
Another rough chuckle rolled out of him as he picked up his bottle. “Well, since we’re being completely honest with one another, I wasn’t really hopeful when it came to you showing up at the bar.”
I raised a brow as I lowered my bottle. “Oh really?”
“Yep.” His throat worked on the drink he took. “I knew you’d show up. It was inevitable.”
“Inevitable?” I repeated. “That’s a pretty powerful word.”
His heavy gaze met mine, and the twisty motion in me returned with a vengeance. “It’s the truth.”
“You’re a cocky bastard, aren’t you?”
“And you’re a cocky chick?”
I laughed then as I leaned against the counter, across from him. “Maybe.”
“I like it. I can tell you’re the kind of person who doesn’t play games.”
Nursing my drink, I crossed my legs at the ankles. “And you can tell this already?”
He nodded. “The moment your eyes met mine yesterday, I could tell you were the type of girl who knows she fucking stops traffic just by walking outside. You own it. There isn’t a single bashful or coy bone or muscle in your body.”
“And you could tell that just by looking in my eyes?” I snorted.
“Actually, I could tell that by those tiny ass shorts you had on yesterday,” he remarked, surprising me. “There is not a single female out there with legs as long as yours who doesn’t know that every guy they come into contact with is picturing them wrapped around their waist.”
I blinked, knocked off my game once more with him. A moment passed before I recovered. “So, you like my shorts?”
“I fucking loved those shorts.” He grinned as he lifted the bottle to his mouth.
Perhaps I should have worn them instead. “Well, it seems like you got me all figured out after two brief conversations, and here I am, not nearly as observant as you. I don’t know anything about you.”
“Not true,” he chided softly. “You know my first and last name. And where I work.”
“Wow. I could totally do a bio on you now.” I watched his lips twitch into a half grin again. “How about we play a game? A question for a question.”
He tilted his head to the side, lips pursed. “I think I can do that. Ladies first.”
Brushing my hair off my shoulder, I took another drink. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“You’re still a baby then.”
He frowned. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-three,” I replied.
“What?” he laughed, the skin crinkling around his eyes. “That makes no sense.” He paused. “Unless older guys are normally your thing or something?”
I tsked softly. “It’s not your turn to ask a question. It’s mine. Have you lived here your whole life?”
“On and off. I was born near here.” His eyes glittered. “Answer my question.”
“Older guys aren’t typically my thing, but I don’t think I have a ‘thing,’ to be honest.”
“Equal opportunity player then?”
“I don’t think you understand how this game works, Nick.”
He smirked. “My bad.”
“Did you go to college or are you in college?” I asked.
Nick arched a brow. “Isn’t that two questions?”
“Oh, you got me. Pick one then.”
His chin dipped. “I did go to college. Is this your first time living away from home?”
I took a drink as I watched his thumb move along the bottle. “I lived in the dorm while I was at school, but this is the first time I’ve lived out of state. So, did you graduate?”
He nodded. “I did.”
The question formed on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to know why he was bartending. I was curious, but not in a judgy way, because there was nothing wrong with bartending. He’d probably made more money than I did, but I pushed the question down. That was too . . . personal for me. Tapping my finger on the bottle, I searched for a good one. “What’s your favorite hobby?”
“Besides fucking?” he said, his gaze hidden behind his thick lashes.
My stomach hollowed. Dear God, that was definitely putting it out there, and certain, important points in my body got all kinds of excited upon hearing that. “Yeah, besides that?”
“Hmm . . .” His gaze flipped to the ceiling as his lips pursed and then his gaze slammed into me. “If I had to pick one, I’d have to go with working with my hands.”
A sharp swirl of pleasure rattled me. “For some reason, I think that has a double meaning.”
One shoulder rose and he took a drink. “What about you? Favorite hobby?”
“Besides fucking?”