I paid off my parents’ mortgage, but that’s really it. Oh, and everyone in my family makes out pretty nicely for their birthdays and at Christmas.
“True, but it would be nice to never have to worry about it, you know?” She smiles at me and I stare at her in return, dumbfounded by her beauty. “I bet you meet a lot of guys like that, what with your job.”
My job? Wait a minute…
Oh right. I’m a trainer.
“Yeah,” I say, glancing around the room, wishing for a cocktail waitress to appear. I need a drink. Desperately. “We don’t really discuss money when we’re together though.”
“Of course not! You’re too busy working on their fitness.” She smiles and reaches for me, settling her warm hand on my arm. “Wow. Your bicep is, like, rock hard.”
She presses her fingers into my skin, essentially feeling me up. If she keeps touching me like that, there will be something else that’s rock hard too.
I really, really need to get my sexual appetite under control. Nothing like that is gonna happen tonight. In my dreams will we get naked and get busy.
“I work out a lot,” I tell her, trying to think of other things. Like my grandma. Like math. Or cauliflower—I hate that shit. Or our defensive coach, who’s an ugly son of a bitch and yells a lot for no good reason.
Anything to get my mind out of the gutter.
“I bet you do,” she murmurs. She’s petting me now. Her fingers are trailing down my arm, touching my bare skin, and a jolt runs through me, making me achingly aware of her closeness. “Like every day, huh?”
“Especially during—” I clamp my lips shut.
I was going to say during football season.
“Hello! Can I get you two something to drink?”
Eleanor drops her hand from my arm, and I immediately miss her touch. We both turn to find a tall, thin brunette standing in front of our table, a friendly smile on her face. Our server is a knockout. She’s wearing a lot of makeup, though. And the top she’s wearing is so low-cut, her tits are ready to spill out. I discreetly check her out, but don’t feel anything.
I glance over at Eleanor, and feel…
Everything.
Damn, I am in big, big trouble with this girl.
“Ooh, hold on. Let me look at your drink specials.” Eleanor grabs the tiny menu propped on our table and starts scanning it, squinting so much, she moves the menu closer to the candle so she can see. “Do you know what you want, Mitch?”
Realization dawns in the server’s eyes and she points at me. “Aren’t you…”
I shake my head once, my expression like stone as I meet her gaze. I’m doing my best to communicate with just my eyes, and I have no idea if it’s working. Thankfully, Eleanor is still looking over the menu and doesn’t notice. “I’ll take whatever beer you’ve got on tap.”
The server frowns. “Do you have a preference?”
“Surprise me,” I say nonchalantly.
“Okay.” She sends me a look that says whatever, weirdo before turning her attention to Eleanor. “What about you, hon?”
“I’ll have the blue hawaiian.” She smiles up at the server before she turns her attention to me. “I love blue alcoholic drinks. They’re always so delicious.”
“I’m not one for frilly blue drinks,” I tell her.
“Most guys aren’t.” She smiles. “They’re not macho enough.”
“Are you calling me macho?”
“You’re very, very manly,” she says with the utmost sincerity.
Damn, this girl is cute. “And you’re very, very…girly.”
She raises her brows. “Is that a compliment?”
“Of course,” I practically scoff.
Eleanor laughs. “I’m teasing you. Isn’t it a little surreal, that we’re sitting here together? Only a few days ago we FaceTimed.”
“If we lived in the same city, we’d have already met,” I point out.
“You think so?”
“Oh, I know so.” It’s my turn to touch her, and I do, settling my big hand over hers. I skim my thumb over her knuckles, my gaze never leaving hers. “I’m glad your friend is having her bachelorette party this weekend.”
“Me too,” she breathes, her expression borderline dazed, like I’m putting her under a trance.
I can relate.
The server makes her appearance, depositing a giant mug of beer in front of me and a tall glass of electric blue liquid in front of Eleanor. “Anything else, guys?”
“We’re good,” I tell the server with a tight smile.
“Oooh, this looks delicious.” Eleanor scoots the drink closer to her and dips her head, wrapping her plump lips around the straw. My imagination runs fucking wild, thinking of all the things she could do with those lips wrapped around a particular body part of mine.
As discreetly as possible, I readjust my junk, praying I don’t sport a boner for the rest of the evening in this bar.
“It’s so good,” she says once she’s had a few swallows. I check the glass to find a quarter of it already gone.
“Great.” I clear my throat and take a sip of my beer. “Mine’s good too.”
“I’ve never been a big beer drinker.” She wrinkles her nose. “I prefer vodka.”
I laugh. “I’m not a picky drinker. Well, I used to drink just about anything I got my hands on, especially when I was in college.”
“Where did you go to college again?” she asks before she takes another sip.
“Texas A & M.” I hesitate for a moment before I decide to tell her the truth. “I played football there.”
“Really? What position?”
“Defensive lineman.” Another hesitation. “I got a football scholarship when I was in high school.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. You must’ve been really good,” she says.
“I was all right,” I say with a casual shrug.
I was amazing. I broke all the high school records in my position. We went to state three times out of four during my high school career. We won two, including during my senior year. That’s what got me the scholarship. Helped that my parents rode my ass about school and I got decent grades. I wanted to make something of myself, and my grandparents encouraged me every step of the way.
“I can only imagine you out on the field, mowing everyone down.” She starts to laugh. “I’m sure you were really intimidating.”
I have a bit of a reputation out on the field. I growl. I curse. I come for them with an intensity that scares the shit out of some players on opposing teams. I want them scared. It means I’m doing my job.
We talk some more about football. About her job and how much she loves it. About Las Vegas and how she hasn’t been here in a while. About her friends, and when the wedding is. She gets a little melancholy, and I don’t know if it’s because of the alcohol—she stuck to only one drink, but it’s a big one—or the fact that her friend is getting married.
Women get weird sometimes when their friends get married and they’re still single. I remember my sister acting this way. But now she’s hitched with a toddler and another one on the way, soooo…