Page 18 of Her Possessive Daddies

"That thing where you look like you're about to explode with gossip but you're trying to play it cool." Tessa tosses her book aside and pats the couch. "Spill it. Now."

I flop down next to her, kicking off my shoes. "So Lacey called out, right? She had an emergency. And I'm working the bar alone?—"

"Scary."

"Terrifying. But then this guy comes in and—" I bring my hands to my burning cheeks. "Fuck, Tess, he was gorgeous. Like, illegally gorgeous."

"Details!" She bounces in her seat. "Height? Hair? Body? Give me everything."

"Tall. Salt and pepper but not old-man silver, you know? Distinguished. And his eyes..." I fan myself dramatically. "I made him the worst bloody mary of his life and he still asked for my number."

Tessa squeals and grabs my hands. "Tell me you gave it to him!"

"I did! I actually did!" I laugh, the giddiness finally breaking free. "What am I doing? He's definitely older than me. Like, way older."

"So what did Mr. Silver Fox say exactly?" Tessa leans forward, her green eyes sparkling deviously. "Give me the play-by-play."

I sink back into the couch cushions, my skin tingling as I recall our conversation. "He asked if I was new, and when I said yes, he got this smile that made my knees weak. Then he ordered that bloody mary—which was awful, by the way—but he drank the whole thing."

"Of course he did. He was totally into you!"

"Then he started asking about my studies, and when I mentioned psychology, he got really interested. We talked about different theories and?—"

"Nerd alert!" Tessa throws a throw pillow at me. "Please tell me you didn't spend the whole time discussing Freud."

"No!" I laugh, hugging the pillow to my chest. "He asked about my goals, my interests. He actually listened, Tess. Like, really listened. Not that fake listening Chandler used to do while checking his phone under the bar."

"And?" Tessa wiggles her eyebrows. "Did he mention what he does?"

"Something in business I would assume. He was wearing this suit that probably costs more than our rent." My cheeks flush remembering how it hugged his broad shoulders. "When he asked for my number, I almost dropped the glass I was cleaning."

"Girl!" Tessa jumps up and does a victory dance. "This is exactly what you need! A sophisticated sugar daddy to show you what you've been missing with that frat boy ex of yours."

"Tessa!" I exclaim, but I can't stop smiling. "Don't call him that!"

"What? I'm just saying, get you a man who can discuss psychology AND afford a decent suit. When's he gonna text you?"

"I don't know if he will?—"

"Oh, he will." She drops back onto the couch with absolute certainty. "Trust me, that man is definitely going to text you."

I chew my lower lip nervously. "Tess, it's been three years since I've dated anyone new. I barely remember how this works." I twist a strand of hair around my finger. "What if I'm rusty?"

"Please. You're twenty-four, not dead." She snorts. "Though speaking of being dead—or nearly there—how ancient is this silver fox anyway?"

"He's not ancient! Just... distinguished." His confident stride, the way his suit jacket stretched across his shoulders, sends heat crawling up my neck. "And trust me, I have a feeling that age won't be an issue."

"Oh?" Tessa's eyebrows arch upward. "Do tell."

"You should have seen him move. The way he carried himself." I warm at the thought, remembering how his fingers brushed mine when he handed back that terrible bloody mary. "Let's just say he's got this... energy about him."

"Energy?" Tessa cackles. "Girl, you are thirsty."

"I am not!" But my face burns. "It's just... the way he gazed at me. Like he could see right through me. And his voice?—"

"His voice?"

"Deep. Smooth. Like aged whiskey." I fan myself with the throw pillow. "When he asked for my number, it wasn't awkward or fumbling like most guys. He just... knew what he wanted."

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