Cynical. I’d met women like her before. They usually expected me to single-handedly make up for every bad relationship they’d ever had.
“So let’s hear it,” I said, like a true glutton for punishment. “Fight with your boyfriend?”
“Not really a fight. I broke up with him after I pulled out the giant knife he lodged in my back.”
“What’d he do?”
She told me the story, and I tried not to flinch when she said she was an attorney. She seemed more down-to-earth than the other attorneys I’d met while out after games.
“Sounds like you got rid of a real douche,” I said, shrugging.
“You’re right,” she said, then tipped back her glass to finish the drink. “And you know what? I’ve missed hanging out with myself anyway. Like this, right now. I haven’t been to a bar in forever. And here I am, just having a drink, like single girls do.”
I tipped my glass against her empty one.
“I like being unpredictable,” she said, motioning to Molly for another drink.
“Pace yourself,” I advised.
“Hey, what’s your name, random bar guy with nice eyes?”
“Bennett.”
I held her gaze for a few seconds. What was it about her? It wasn’t just her looks, but something else, that made me want to lean over and kiss her right here. I wanted to touch those long, loose curls and taste that Long Island on her lips.
My phone buzzed with a text, and I looked down at the bar where it was sitting.
Liam: Won’t be home tonight. Get a cab, asshat.
I looked over toward the table where he’d been sitting. It was empty. I hadn’t even seen him leave. Not that I cared. I’d be sitting here with Charlotte until she left or fell off the barstool. And from the pink tinge to her cheeks and her exuberant laugh, I was pretty sure I needed to be prepared for the falling.
Not a problem. This gorgeous, spirited woman could fall into my arms anytime she wanted.
Charlotte
I pushed my half-empty, second Long Island Iced Tea back a few inches. My head was swimming, I couldn’t stop smiling, and I was warm.
Or was the warmth from the hot man with nice brown eyes and wide shoulders next to me?
Bennett wasn’t like any other man I’d met at a bar. I could tell from the intensity of his gaze that he liked me, but he wasn’t hitting on me at all. I’d rested a hand on his bicep to brace myself when I felt unsteady a few minutes ago, but he hadn’t touched me back like I’d expected.
Most guys would have seized the opportunity and put a hand on my back or waist. But he just asked if I was okay, his lips quirking slightly.
He had to have a girlfriend. No man was this much of a gentleman. And that was a shame, because I wanted to let go of my Type A-ness tonight and be impulsive.
This handsome, mysterious stranger had made me forget all about Riley. I didn’t know anything significant about him. He liked draft beer, smelled faintly of leather, and was a good listener. But what I knew, I liked.
“You have a girlfriend,” I said, my tone edged with disappointment.
Bennett’s brows shot up. “No. I haven’t been in a relationship since last year.”
I turned my body closer to him, his words sending a warm charge of excitement through my body.
“Really? Not even an on-again, off-again thing? Or an ‘it’s complicated’ thing?”
He smiled as he tipped back his glass and finished the last of his beer. “Nope. Nothing.”
“I think you should come home with me,” I said, my heart racing.
I’d never done this. I was a woman who made pro/con lists and alphabetized my paperback collection. But something about spontaneity felt so right in this moment. Riley had wounded me, and Bennett was the salve I needed.
“I’d love to see you home, but I don’t think your head’s clear enough for anything more tonight,” he said. “Much as it pains me.”
“My head’s fine. I didn’t even finish the second drink.” I pointed at the glass for emphasis.
“Fine, huh?”
“Yep. Feel free to give me a field sobriety test, officer.”
He smiled. “I just might.”
I arched my brows in challenge and slid off my barstool. “You coming?”
“Share a cab?” he asked. “My ride took off already or I’d drive you.”
I was about to answer him when a burly guy at a nearby table got up, still looking at the person he was talking to as he approached the bar. He ran into me with his shoulder, knocking me off-balance.
Bennett steadied me with an arm around my waist.
“Watch it, asshole,” he said to the guy who’d run into me.
The guy turned around, scowling, but then took in Bennett’s tall, muscled form and grunted.
“Yeah, sorry,” he mumbled.
I nestled myself a little closer against Bennett, eager to get him home. The alcohol had squashed my tendencies to analyze and be cautious, and I was loving it. This was what life was like for my girlfriends who lived in the moment. I’d been missing out on so much fun.