Page 41 of No, You Hang Up

Something that really has me crossing my legs just a little bit tighter to soothe the needy ache that’s starting to tingle between them. But Eric doesn’t even notice.

He doesn’t notice when my phone buzzes again, or when I glance down at it in my lap to see what Hux wants this time. It’s sad that he doesn’t and it makes me wonder if he’s just pretending not to in an attempt to make me think he doesn’t care at all.

Do better. He wants you to like him.

Why do you want him to like me?

I hurry to shoot the message back, giving Eric some shitty little excuse about one of my friends probably going to puke in the bathroom soon. It sets off another anecdote about a friend or something; for all I know, his dog puked on his carpet instead of it being a real person.

Hux is quick to respond, though it starts with just an eye-rolling emoji that makes me want to frown.

Play along now, come on. Do him a favor and at least let him think you’re into him.

But I don’t want to. I don’twantEric to think I’m into him, when the person Iaminto is close enough to see me. It makes my body almost vibrate with tension, and it’s nearly impossible not to look around the bar for any sign of Huxley.

Somehow, he knows it too.

Be a good girl and do what I say. Stop trying to look for me without me noticing. Like I said, you really aren’t subtle.

He shouldn’t have this kind of effect on me when I can’t even see him, and the thought causes a rebellious streak of heat goes up my spine. He shouldn’t be able to do this to me, and I suddenly wonder if I can do it to him. If I can beat him at this game he’s started.

Letting out a breath, I casually put my phone on the bar and pick up my drink. Instead of using the straw, I lock eyes with Eric and down half of it before setting it back on the napkin. “Do you come here a lot?” I ask, scooting closer on my chair until my knees bump into his. I’m not really this confident. Especially with someone I don’t like.

But this isn’t for him.

He stammers for an answer while I smile indulgently, and once again I find myself absently picking up my drink. “Yeah, umm—Well not really. I don’t come here like, looking for anything,” Eric is quick to assure me. Not that I care. “And I don’t just like, creep on girls or whatever. God, this is not getting better.”

“You’re all good.” He is, and only because I’m not really focused on him. “I think you’re sweet.” The taste of my drink is sweet in my mouth, and it’s probably the only thing that keeps me from scrunching my nose in distaste when he leans toward me, close enough that I can smell the beer on his breath.

“You, umm. You’re really pretty,” he informs me, in a way that tells me he’s been drinking more than just beer. My phone lights up from the corner of my eye, but this time, I don’t look at it right away. If he wants to play this game with me, then Huxley doesn’t get to make up all the rules. Eric doesn’t pull away, and I give him my most charming smile when he places a hand on my knee.

His palm is sweaty, and it’s a real turnoff. My phone lights up again, and I finally glance over at it.

I didn’t tell you to let him touch you.

Are you really playing this game with me, pretty girl?

But this time I don’t reply. I am in fact playing this game with him to win, so I let Eric lean in further, his hand sliding up to my hip as he precariously lets himself get ever closer, as if he’s afraid I’m going to shove him away at any moment. Though honestly, it would probably be better for him if I did.

“Hey, umm.” I lean back just a little, biting my lip like I’m nervous. “Could we talk a little more? I think I sort of need…” I give him an apologetic smile and pick up my drink again, though the nervousness I feel is real instead of a put on show for Hux. I down the rest of my drink without thinking about it, and set it back on the napkin as Eric watches, his hand still on my thigh.

“If you need to go check on your friends or anything, I totally get it.” He nearly trips over his words in his desire to make me see him as understanding and patient. And as if on cue, my phone goes off again, though I don’t look at it this time as his thumb rubs the top of my thigh.

I wouldn’t like him anyway. He’s too nice, I realize. I’m not interested in the Boy Scout routine when it isn’t just a facade. “Do you need to look at that?” he adds, his eyes darting toward my phone.

“Maybe in a minute.” I shrug. “It’s definitely not an emergency. I like talking to you and my friends can wait a minute.” Even though I don’t want to make him wait a minute, not when I’m dying to know what he said. But there’s something incredibly satisfying about denying him this attention, so this time when Eric leans in, I let him.

His kiss is just as disappointing as the rest of him. I sigh into it anyway, trying to relax rather than pull away.

I try to imagine it’s Huxley kissing me instead, but I…

Can’t.

It’s not the same. His lips are too soft, too hesitant. He doesn’t move in to dominate the kiss. Hell, he barely seems to know what he wants.

Not to mention he tastes like beer.

I can feel my phone vibrate on the bar once, then twice, and I can’t help but smile into his mouth, though it’s not from Eric himself. Part of me feels bad, because I know this isn’t very nice of me. But when his thumb strokes closer to my inner thigh, suddenly my guilt dries right up.

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