Page 4 of Breaking the Lawyer

Christian leans in slightly. The movement brings his face closer to mine, close enough that I can see the faint stubble on his jaw, the tiny flecks of amber in his otherwise dark eyes. "You know, most straight guys who find themselves in a place like this are either terrified or overcompensating. You're doing a bit of both."

"I'm not overcompensating," I protest.

"No? 'I'm going to seduce you'?" Christian mimics, his voice dropping an octave in imitation. The sound sends a strange shiver down my spine. "That's not overcompensating?"

I bite down on the inside of my cheek, trying to stop the smile that threaten to make itself visible. "Maybe a little."

"A little," he agrees, his eyes crinkling at the corners. The expression softens his otherwise sharp features, makes him look younger, more approachable. "So tell me, Brooks-who's-definitely-not-overcompensating, what do you do when you're not making bets in gay bars?"

"I just landed a job at a law firm," I say, feeling on safer ground. "Start Monday."

"A lawyer?" He raises a brow and studies me for a few moments. "Should have guessed. You've got that argumentative streak."

"Says the guy who's been arguing with me since I bumped into him."

"Touché." Christian clinks his glass against mine. The sound is crisp, like the breaking of a spell. "So what kind of law?"

"Corporate, mostly," I say, then grin. "Boring, I know."

"Oh, I don't know," Christian replies. "There's something to be said for a man in a suit who knows how to argue his case."

The way he says it—low and suggestive—sends a strange tingle down my chest. I find myself imagining what he'd look like in a suit, all sharp lines and confident posture. The image is...not unpleasant.

"What about you?" I ask, eager to shift the focus. "What do you do?"

"This and that," Christian says vaguely, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

"Now who's being evasive?"

His smile is enigmatic, a small quirk of his lips that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Maybe I like being mysterious."

"Or maybe your job is embarrassing," I tease. "Are you a professional clown? A telemarketer? Oh god, you're not an influencer, are you?"

"Would it matter if I was?"

"Depends. What would you be influencing? Fashion? Fitness?" I let my eyes drift over his well-fitted shirt, the wayit stretches across his shoulders. "You could probably pull off either."

"Was that a compliment?" Christian ask, expression unreadable.

"Just an observation," I say, but I can feel my face warming again. What is it about this guy that keeps making me blush like I’m sixteen all over again?

Christian checks his watch, a sleek, understated timepiece that probably costs more than my rent. "Well, as fun as this has been..."

"You're leaving?" I ask, surprised at the disappointment that surges through me.

"I told you, I'm here for a reason." His tone is casual, but there's something slightly rigid in his features.

"Right. A hot date?" I try to keep my tone light, but it comes out sounding a bit bitter. Why do I care who he's meeting?

"Could be," Christian says with a shrug that does interesting things to the muscles in his shoulders. "Or I could just be trying to escape your terrible pickup lines."

"My pickup lines are excellent," I protest. "You just haven't heard my best material yet."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

I lean in, close enough that I can smell his cologne again, stronger now. "If I told you, I'd have to use it on you. And then you'd be powerless to resist me."

He laughs, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. "You're something else, you know that?"

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