Page 13 of Jaded

“Wow. My God, that’s probably the most flattering thing anyone’s ever said to me. Anita.” I lean over the counter. “Are there cameras in here? Did anyone catch that?”

Scowling again, he tugs me down into my seat. “We do not need to involve Anita.”

“Oh, no, you two are very cute.” Anita slides over to our end of the bar, smirking. “Though, Nat, I think JB’s looking for you.”

The hottie beside me sighs, returning to his serious and surly demeanor. “All right. I guess I’m gonna go have a smoke then. While Anita brings me another drink?”

He throws the last comment over the counter in her direction, and she responds with a mocking salute. “Aye, aye.”

“I’ll be back in a few.” He slides off the stool, nearly brushes my arm with his rounded shoulder as he passes, headed towards the rear of the building. Which gives me a mesmerizing view of wide, muscledshoulders leading down to a narrow waist in a V delicious enough to make me drool.

“Okay, who . . . is . . . that?” The words trail out of my mouth in a whisper, thankfully not accompanied by any actual drool. The man’s out of sight now, disappeared into the darkened back hallway, and that means the rest of the world surges in.

I’m at a bar.

Surrounded by people talking, laughing, drinking, eating. Some surly longtime locals flying solo—

“Oh, Nat?” Anita’s gaze trails after him. The man who’s way, way too beautiful and edgy for me. “He’s hot, huh?”

“Gorgeous.” I dab at my mouth, just in case the drooling’s started.

“Yeah.” Anita smiles as she turns back to me. “He’s trouble, too.”

“Trust me. I know.” Disappointment still blooms inside my chest at the affirmation—but no, this is good.

Romance is . . . not ideal for me. I mean, aside from the fact that I have zero time for dating, I have relationship anxiety like nobody’s business. It’s like Grand Central Overthinking Station.

Which means amorous entanglement is a definite distraction from my dream—one I cannot afford, no matter what a spicy set of shoulders is trying to tell me.

I sigh. “Lucky you.”

“Yeah, lucky me, once. And lucky every hot girl in Day River.” She shakes her head. “He’s a flirt, and more heartbreak than happiness.”

“You hear that, Olli?” I slap at my cheek. “No-no.”

Anita laughs. “Exactly. Steer clear. There are—okay, well, no. Day River is shit for dating. But maybe there are better gay men?”

“I’m not looking for love anyway,” I assure her. “I have way more than a full-time job, trust me. Which means I guess I should be asking for my bill.”

I swipe the last of the salad off my plate, set my fork down, and accept the check. Kinda sad for this night to end, but I should leave before I decide to do something stupid, like have a drink. Keep flirting with thehottie. Exchange numbers, make drunken appointments for matching tattoos, that kind of thing.

Not that I’m liable to do any of those things on a normal day, but he’s finer than most guys I dare to strike up conversations with. So I slap some bills onto the table and slide out from behind the bar.

“It was lovely to meet you,” I assure Anita.

“Likewise.” She hesitates, her mouth popping open like she’s got something else to add. “Don’t suppose you’ve heard of the Ice Out?”

“Not in whatever context you’re referring to.”

“Thursday nights. At the old subway station. It’s like . . . a Day River rite of passage.”

I cock my head in question. “And what is it, exactly?”

“You’ll just have to see it for yourself.” She winks. “Nat goes.”

“I think we already decided I’m not interested.” And I’m not. Definitely not. No way am I remotely interested or taking notes.

“Sure, sure.” Her grin widens to cover most of her face. “Don’t be a stranger, now.”

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