When I had my new drink in hand, I didn’t head back to the table. Instead, I sat, checking the time on my phone along with my social media notifications. Of which I had none. Where were all my friends?
Looking through my timeline, which was filled with tons of Valentine’s Day pics from a few days before, there were updates from friends I hadn’t seen in years.
Kristi Kallam: Counting down the days until spring break. >.<
Teachers needed vacation, too.
Massy Reyes: Margarita time!!
Complete with a photo of a huge green filled glass the size of a fish bowl.
Marissa Wade: Loving this cool Arizona weather! Hike, here I come.
Cute selfie with the Arizona landscape behind her.
All three of them were friends of mine in school. After college, we split off to different parts of the country. Since then, most of our contact was via the Internet and the occasional birthday or holiday call or text.
I missed them, but moving apart was the sad drawback of growing up. I’d made a few friends around Cincinnati, but they weren’t people I hung out with a lot. Add to that how my best friend was busy with two-month-old twins and that I had no man in my life, a homebody was born.
“Anyone sitting here?”
I looked up from my phone, and almost choked on the sip I just took as I saw the man before me. He was the cliché of tall, dark, and handsome—not the usual guy I attracted.
Not entirely true—Digby was tall, blond, and handsome.
“You.” The word popped out of my mouth, proving I’d reached the happy drunk stage. Marcy did remind me earlier of my loose lips when drinking.
His blue eyes sparkled, and his mouth drew up into a smirk. The sharp angle of his jaw was accentuated by what appeared to be a few days’ worth of stubble. His black suit was not off the rack, and his dark brown hair was longer and grab worthy.
“Simon.”
He held out his hand, and I slipped mine in. It was rougher than I expected for a man in a tailored suit. Heat flooded my cheeks as I thought of him touching me all over. Rough, strong hands…
“Paisley.”
He set his drink down, ordering another round for both of us, despite both of our glasses still being half full. Then again, they could be half empty, and he was just anticipating their imminent demise.
“What brings you here?” He took a sip of his vodka and tonic, lips pursed together as he swallowed.
The bob of his Adam’s apple caught my eye, and a strong desire to lean forward and lick it took hold.
Months and months with nothing but silicone between my thighs, coupled with the booze and the front zip dress, and I was a tipsy hussy ready to spread my legs for him. Apparently, I wanted to jump the first real cock that showed the slightest bit of interest.
Which is exactly what gets you into trouble.
Then again, it could just be that he was very good looking and seemed interested in having a good time.
“Business. You?”
Another sip of my vodka and cranberry to quench my thirst. “Work party.”
“Sounds…”
“Boring.”
He chuckled. “The rowdy bunch in the corner?”
I peeked over, and sure enough, Micah was on the table doing a strip tease. I shook my head and turned back. Working with the dead, it was probably the first time any of them had lived in months. “I have no idea who those crazies are.”
“I’m better company.”
I quirked a brow at him and took another sip. “Awfully sure of yourself.”
“I have a lot of self-confidence.” He beamed at me.
And I had a lot of ways I was imagining mounting him on his bar stool. “Do you now? Cocky men are not attractive.”
He shook his head. “There’s a difference between cockiness and confidence.”
“Enlighten me.”
His finger traced the rim of his glass, his eyes locked on mine. “They both come from inside, but cockiness derives from a deep-seated need for attention to cover up insecurities and secure validation. I have no need for any of those.”
I was stuck, transfixed or maybe hypnotized by him, unable to look away. “That’s a pretty cocky statement.” Even my words were stunted, low.
The man had me practically panting for him.
A bitch in heat.
Fuck me.
His tongue swiped across his lips as the corner of his mouth twitched up. “I suppose it is, but I assure you, there are no small parts of my anatomy I’m trying to compensate for.”
“So, it comes from having a big head?”
Somebody shut me up!
A huge grin grew across his face. “Forward, aren’t you? Talking about the size of my cock.”
“Well, I meant the one on top of your neck. It is quite bulbous.”
His brow crinkled. “I don’t know how to take that.”
“An observation.”
Someone really needed to staple my lips shut. I was losing my best dick opportunity of the night.
“What is it that you do to make such an observation?” His smile dropped a little, no longer reaching his eyes or having that sexy edge.
“I’m a vampire.”
His brows shot up, and he nodded. “Interesting, and a little macabre.”
I wanted to slap myself. First guy in ages to flirt with me, and I was fubaring it. He was gone.