Page 3 of Breaking the Lawyer

"And how exactly do you plan to do that?" he asks, one corner of his mouth lifting.

Good question. I haven't thought that far ahead.

"I'll start by buying you a drink," I improvise. "What are you having?"

He hesitates for a moment. "Whiskey, neat."

I flag down the bartender and order two. As I wait, I rack my brain for what to say next.

"So," I begin awkwardly when our drinks arrive. "Come here often?"

Christian's laugh is deep and genuine. "That's your opening line? Really?"

My face heats up and I straighten up in a desperate attempt to appear taller. "I'm new at this, remember?"

"Clearly." Christian takes a sip of his whiskey, eyes never leaving mine. His gaze is intense, almost intrusive. "But I appreciate the effort. It's... cute."

"Cute?" I frown. "I wasn't going for cute."

"What were you going for?"

I lean in, lowering my voice."Irresistible."

Something flickers in his eyes. His pupils dilate slightly, and for a second, I feel a rush of satisfaction at having caused that reaction.

"Bold of you to assume you could be irresistible to me," he says, but there's a new edge to his voice, a slight roughness that wasn't there before.

"Am I wrong?" I challenge, feeling a strange thrill at the back-and-forth. Maybe I’m not that bad at this game after all.

He studies me for a moment, his eyes tracking over my face like he's memorizing it. I find myself holding my breath, waiting for his verdict.

"You're nice enough, Brooks," he finally says. "But I'm here for a reason, and it's not to entertain straight guys trying to win childish bets."

The words shouldn't sting, but they do. I guess it is kind of childish. Maybe even slightly inappropriate. But if I’m about to spend the rest of my productive life in trenches of corporate world, with my shirts always crisp and my hair always tamed, then fuck it—might as well be a little chaotic for once. Besides…

"I'm not just doing this for the bet," I hear myself say. “I’m having fun, actually.”

Christian inspects my face again, but doesn’t speak, one raised eyebrow doing the talking for him—I don’t believe you.

And so I continue. “I think you’re…interesting.”

"Interesting," Christian repeats, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "That's a new one."

"What do people usually say?"

"Hot. Sexy. Fuckable." His eyes are challenging, daring me to look away first. I don't. "Notinteresting."

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. "Well, I guess you're those things too. Objectively speaking."

"Objectively speaking," Christian echoes, his smile growing. "How scientific of you."

"I'm just saying I can see why someone would be attracted to you," I clarify, feeling my face heat up again. "You know, if they were into... that."

And now I’m rambling. Great.

"Into what, exactly?" Christian's voice has a teasing lilt to it now, like he's enjoying my discomfort.

"Men," I say, the word feeling strange on my tongue in this context.

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