Page 20 of Spin The Bottle
“Are you serious?”
“I’m sorry?” Her face contorts.
I roll my eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you to pee before we leave? I swear, it’s like you’re my kid.” I sigh, pressing my fingers to my forehead.
She snickers. “Can I call you Mommy?” I let out a laugh, giving her a push. She presses her lips together, trying to stop laughing. “I’ll be quick. Just order me something.” She waves a hand. “Whatever will get me drunker.” She starts to walk into the bathroom but then spins. “Actually, just order me a Cosmo. I need to stay up late tonight.”
“Hot date?” I tease.
She smiles, then shakes her head. “Nah.” Her hip nudges the door open, and she walks in. I pat my jean pocket, making sure the money is still there. I turn, heading to the bar when I see—
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Aiden’s head lifts, one hand clutching a glass, the other around the beer tap. He grins when he sees me, then props the drink in front of a customer. He places his hands on the counter. “How I love to be the reason for your disappointment,” he says, his smirk letting me know he finds my attitude towards him amusing. “Are you stalking me again, Leila?”
I cross my arms, leaning my hip against the edge of the bar. “More like trying to forget you.”
He hums, leaning forward on the counter. “Hard to forget, am I?”
I’m not even going to dignify him with an answer. I bite my bottom lip, knowing he’s right. The guy is hard to forget, especially after that whole interaction at the party. I don’t know what I was thinking, daring him to chase me. I don’t want that. At least, I don’t think I do.
I blow out a breath. I don’t know what I want when it comes to Aiden. And therein lies the problem. “So you’re a bartender?” I ask him, sitting on the stool, visibly wincing. Fuck I hate barstools. They are not big girl friendly. They painfully dig into my thighs, not to mention my ass barely fits on the seat.
“You okay there?” he asks.
I peer up at him. “Peachy.”
He smiles, his tongue tracing his bottom lip.Don’t look at his lips.He moves over to the glasses, grabbing a tall one. “Beer, right?” he asks.
I furrow my brows. “Yeah. How did you know?”
“Lucky guess.” He fills the glass, staring down at the amber liquid filling it.
“You’re full of surprises.”
He lifts his head, eyeing me for a second before his head drops back to the task at hand, a laugh escaping him. A breathy, low laugh that has my stomach spinning. With a shake of his head, he says, “I’ve got to say, even though you seem to despise me for some reason,” he glances up at me, “I always seem to have a good time whenever you’re near.”
A full glass of beer gets placed in front of me. “You’re a masochist, huh?” I ask, taking a sip. “You like when people torture you?”
He laughs. “If torture is anything like you, then hell yes.”
A bubble of laughter escapes me, and I press my hand to my mouth, swallowing down the liquid. “Does that actually work?”
“What?” he asks.
I gesture to the—if I’m being honest—drop-dead gorgeous face of his. “The whole blue-eyed, cool guy flirting thing you do.”
He seems to mull it over, tilting his head. “I would say all the time. But lately, I’ve struck out.”
I eye him wondering if he’s talking about me. Hoping he’s talking about me. It’s a good feeling saying no to someone like Aiden Pierce. Someone that can have anyone, that everyone wants. “It won’t work on me.” Although as I say the words, I’m not entirely sure it’s true.
He shrugs, the big muscles on his shoulders lifting. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
I take another sip, the burn of the alcohol hitting my throat. “Have you forgotten I don’t like you?”
He shakes his head, a grin on his lips. “That’s not an issue.”
My brows furrow. “Why not?”
