“You know,” I say, still watching. “It would be rude if we didn’t go in and say hello.”
A slow grin spreads over Jake’s mouth. “After we’ve spotted her and all.”
I match that grin. “And we’re nothing if not polite.”
“Perfect gentlemen.” Jake tugs the brim of his cap down further over his brow. “I’ll take care of the date.”
I clasp his shoulder. “Good man.”
* * *
Chess
* * *
There has got to be a better way to find love. I take an anemic sip of my watery vodka tonic and try to search for something to say to Evan, my date for the night. As dates go, this isn’t the worst one I’ve had. Not at all. It’s just off.
Which is disappointing. I had high hopes for this one. Physically, Evan is exactly what I look for; soulful brown eyes, full tattoo sleeves, thick but trimmed beard. He had caught my eye last week when we both stopped to listen to a zydeco band playing on Royal Street. He’d been engaging then, witty enough to have me agreeing to this date.
Now?
I give him a smile that feels strained. “So, you’re a tattoo artist.” Great, you’ve only mentioned his job twice before now. “How is that going?”
Oh, holly hell, maybe I’m the boring one here.
His pinched expression says pretty much the same. “Can’t complain. I live for skin.”
That probably sounded better in his head.
I nod, take a sip of my drink. I don’t miss the way the bartender shakes his head as he puts away a glass. Yes, we’re that pathetic. This date is going down like a week-old balloon. And it hurts. Not the loss of this particular guy, but the loss of a possible connection. Simple, basic connection. Someone to touch me, make me feel good. It’s been so long since I’ve had good sex, I’m beginning to forget how it feels to be touched in reverence. And that fucking hurts.
Evan lets out a sigh, and I’m hit with a waft of garlic and stale cigarette smoke. That’s the other thing; he has terrible breath. Why didn’t I notice this before? Maybe it’s just tonight? Should it matter? Everyone has bad breath now and then.
“Chess?”
I blink out of my fog, ready to answer Evan when I realize the voice that had spoken was deeper, laced in an innate sense of confidence and command. That voice grabs hold of my spine like a hot hand, sending prickles over my skin. No, God no, not him. He cannot be here to witness this fiasco.
And even as the thought runs through my brain, my stupid, traitor of a body sends a happy zing through me.
Bracing myself, I turn and come face to face with my tormentor, my rescuer. Finn Mannus. Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world… From beneath the brim of a battered Mickey Mouse ball cap, his blue eyes twinkle. There’s such sly humor in his gaze that I’m hard pressed not to smile.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he says, crowding my seat. He isn’t exactly insinuating his big frame between Evan and me, but it’s a close thing.
“Who did I piss on in a prior life to deserve this?” I mutter, even as my body stirs with renewed energy. And, really, I’m full of shit because I’m happy to see him. My mouth can lie, but my heart knows the truth.
He’s close enough that the warm length of his arm brushes against mine. “Some say my presence is a blessing.”
“It doesn’t count if you pay them to say that,” I lob back.
He chuckles low and easy. “It was only the one time, I swear.”
My lip twitches. And he sees it, his eyes bright with shared humor.
Jake Ryder takes the moment to make himself know. “Chess!” He bumps into both Finn and me. “Can you believe this coincidence?” He says it with such obvious exaggeration, that I give Finn a look.
He’s got a good poker face, but the fact that he’s even wearing one makes me wary.
“Is it now?” I drawl.
Again, Finn flashes a quick smile meant to charm and evade. But when he leans in a touch, his voice rubs over my skin. “I was just nowhere near your neighborhood.”
My heart gives a little kick. “I’d never imagine you’d quote Singles, Mannus.”
A strangled sound to my right snags my attention. Evan is gaping at us like he’s seen a ghost. Right. Evan. I’d forgotten he was there.
“Finn Mannus,” he says in an awed voice. “Seriously?”
Finn gives him an easy, ah, shucks grin. “Yep.”
“Wow.” Evan’s gaze pings from to me to Finn and then back to me. “You didn’t say you knew Manny.”
“I don’t. Not really.”
Jake slings an arm around my shoulders. “Oh, come on, Chess. You’ve seen us naked. I’d say that counts as knowing us, don’t you, Manny?”
Little shit. I roll my eyes as Evan’s mouth falls open again.
Finn glares at Jake. “Keeping it classy, Ryder?”
“You…” Evan looks at me. “They?”
“Naked,” Jake confirms with a nod.
“They were in the studio for a photoshoot today,” I explain, pursing my lips at an unrepentant Jake.
“Cool,” Evan says, then does a double take. His eyes go wide. “And Jake Ryder too? Fucking awesome play on fourth and ten last week, man.”
Jake grins. “Thanks. I try.”
“I can’t believe you know these guys.” Evan turns to the bartender. “You see who’s here? Finn Fucking Mannus and Jake Ryder.”
The bartender, who had been down the bar, pouring drinks perks up. “No shit.” Soon he’s leaning in, wide eyed as a kid in a toy store.
I roll my eyes again, and my gaze clashes with Finn’s. He’s not paying his fans any attention, but is watching me. Amusement lightens his expression, and for one strange moment, it feels as though we’re sharing a secret joke. “Bet you didn’t know my middle name was ‘fucking’,” he murmurs as the bartender shakes Jake’s hand.
“I’d have guessed ‘asshat’,” I tease.
Finn presses his big hand to his chest, now sadly covered in a white t-shirt. “You wound me, Chester Copper.”
Shaking my head, I incline my head toward his. “The fact that you keep calling me Chester might have something to do with it, Finnegan Mannus.”