Page 42 of Most Likely to Fear Love

I smiled awkwardly as both men turned their attention to me. Eddie gave me a friendly nod. “Nice to meet you, Cassidy. How’d you end up stuck with this lumberjack?”

Oh, you know, hired him off Craig’s list for his jizz.“Um, well, we, uh…”

“Met through my friend Craig.”

I gasped, staring at Harle when he winked at me again.

“Craig? Is he from around here?”

“Do we know him?”

“Yeah, you might have heard of him. He’s pretty good at getting people together.”

The two guys frowned in confusion and honestly, I wished the floor would open up and swallow me.

Joe said, “Well, um, anyway, you guys have a good night, you hear. Try the wings, Cassidy, they’re to die for.”

“Already on it,” Harle said with a smile.

As Eddie and Joe walked away, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. A giggle burst out of me, and I punched Harle in the arm.

“Craig’s List? Really?” I snorted, shaking my head. “You’re terrible.”

Harle grinned. “What? It’s not technically a lie.”

“No, but...” I trailed off as Pete set two frosty mugs of beer in front of us.

Harle lifted his mug. “To good beer and killer wings?”

I clinked my glass against his. “To Craig and his magical list of connections.”

We both took long sips of our beers. The cold liquid felt good going down, washing away some of the tension I’d been carrying all day. I set my mug down, licking the foam from my upper lip.

“So, do you know everyone in this bar?” I asked, glancing around at the crowded room.

Harle shrugged. “Not everyone, but it’s a small town. You tend to run into familiar faces.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling a bit out of place. This was Harle’s world, not mine. But before I could dwell on it too much, a plate piled high with golden, crispy wings appeared in front of us.

“Holy crap,” I breathed, inhaling the spicy aroma. “These smell amazing.”

Harle smiled, already reaching for a wing. “Told you they were worth the drive.”

HARLE

Well, this was nice. Just two friends, hanging out at the local bar on a Friday night. It was also a terrible idea. Squished into two tiny stools, people crowded around, so I couldn’t avoid inhaling Cassidy’s intoxicating scent, or feeling her thigh pressed against mine.

I leaned back, savoring the last bite of my buffalo wing. The tangy sauce lingered on my tongue, a perfect match for the cold beer in my hand. Cassidy wiped her fingers on a napkin, her cheeks flushed from the spice and alcohol.

“These wings are addictive,” she said, licking her lips and making my pulse leap. “I can see why you come here.”

“Told ya. Best wings in Plymouth.”

The door swung open, and a gust of laughter swept in. A group of women stumbled inside, their voices rising above the low hum of the bar. They tottered towards us, clearly having started their night elsewhere.

“Oh my God, Harle!” one of them squealed, spotting me. “What are you doing here?”

I recognized her as one of the servers from the local coffee shop. “Hey, Jen. Just grabbing some wings.”

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