Page 50 of How You See Me
“We’re not—we’re just—” Josielooks to me for help.
“Friends,” I manage, but the word tastes sour on my tongue. My system doesn’t react to my other female friends the way it does to Josie. And it certainly hasn’t responded like this to any woman I’ve ever touched.
“Could’ve fooled me.” Jules strolls away, leaving us alone.
That’s the last thing we need.
“Ready to go shake it on the dance floor, Cowboy?” Josie asks, completely recovered like no sparks passed between us. Maybe all I sense from her comes straight from my deprived lower section’s imagination.
“I’m ready to eat, not do whatever you just said.”
“Guess I’ll have to do all the shaking for the both of us.”
Never mind. I don’t want to go anymore.
???
When we reach the restaurant or bar or whatever they’re called here, she stops with her hand on the door handle. “I was being serious earlier. You do look good in that hat.”
“Thank you, but you shouldn’t have.”
“It’s the least I can do. I’m buying dinner, too. No arguing.”
“We’ll see.”
The second we step inside, the atmosphere slaps us in the face. It’s loud and dark, but blinding at the same time, a stark contrast from the soft sunset and hum of activity outside.
We snake through crowded tables to reach the bar and claim the last two stools, facing the rest of the large room. I have a better chance of relaxing when I can keep an eye on my surroundings, not the other way around. While Josie reads the menu, I scan the tables and designated areas.
There are two exits within eyeshot of here, along with the dance floor, and restrooms. Almost every male is wearing a hat like mine in varying colors with a pistol or blade holster on their belt, some females too. Everyone has on boots, a large, decorative belt buckle, and Wrangler jeans. It’s like we’re on the set of a country movie where the costume designers got lazy and made everyone the same outfit.
I feel out of place but not the least bit sorry about it. This hat is as far as I’ll go with the designated line of attire. And that’s only because it came from Josie . . . and she said I was hot.
“You ready to order?” the bartender asks, but he’s only addressing Josie. He leans both tattoo-sleeved arms on the counter when she smiles at him.
See that, I remind myself.You’re nothing special. She makes everyone feel seen, and appreciated. It’s just who she is.
“I am. What about you, Hayes?”
She places a hand on my arm and the guy backs up. I shouldn’t be so thrilled about that, but my blood is two-steppin’ to a peppy tune inside my veins despite knowing it. “Do you need more time?”
“No. I’d like a steak and baked potato.”
“Don’t you want to pick it out? There are lots of options.” She points at the menu.
“I got you,” the bartender says before giving his attention to Josie. “And for you, beautiful?”
The compliment makes her blush, and I realize that I’d been too consumed by her to tell her the same thing.
Damn him.
But she’s more than beautiful. That overused word is too simple for her. Too common.
She’s captivating.
“I’ll take the Caesar salad wrap, and a Mai Tai.” She tilts her head at me. “He’ll have a beer.”
“Whatever’s on tap.” I hand him my credit card for the tab.
