Page 28 of Sparks
I shook my hands, wishing I’d applied more deodorant, and glad it was so cold out. “Listen, thanks for getting the cab. Next time we go out it’s on me. Or I’ll be DD.”
“Enough talking.” She linked her arm through mine. “Now or never.”
‘Never’ sounded good.
Was it normal to be this nervous to meet a guy? I felt like I was going to vomit as we pushed open the pub doors and were hit with warm air. Four scary looking dudes sat at the bar, turning to face us at once. A quick glance around made me realize these were the only freaking people in the whole bar, which meant…
I looked them over and my stomach sank. There at the end were those hazel eyes, drooping with probable weed consumption, but that wasn’t what bothered me. He’d gotten a few more tattoos since the pictures he’d posted. He now had tats up his neck and two tiny symbols on the side of his face.
Look. I loved me some tattoos. Full sleeves, even. But when they crept up onto the neck and face, a certain stereotype kicked in, screamingfelon!And/organg member!I silently berated myself for the unfair assumption. These could be new-age business professionals or award-winning chefs for all I knew. Beth squeezed my arm and let go. When she moved forward I forced myself to follow.
“Hey, fellas,” she said in a voice that managed to be both sweet and sultry. She stuck her hand out to the first guy, who nodded and looked her over from head to toe before taking her hand and introducing himself. I shook his hand next and we went down the line. When we got to Rick, he shook my hand and gave me the sexy, slow smile from his profile picture. It relaxed me a little.
“Nice to meet you,” I told him.
“Likewise. What are you ladies drinking?”
I glanced to Beth, who gave me anI told you sosmile.
“Lemon drops?” I asked. “Or just vodka cranberry.”
“Same,” Beth said.
She left us to saunter down and chat with the other three, two of whom also had the face tattoos. I really did not want to stay long. I’d give this one hour max and then I would drag Beth out if I had to. Rick ordered six lemon drop shots and two vodka cranberries. Then he pulled out the hugest wad of cash I’d ever seen to pay for them.
Drug dealer.
I really had to stop doing that.
When we received the shots we all held them up and threw them back. These guys were quiet and intense. No loud laughing or talking. Granted, they all seemed high, but not the giggly, munchy type of high. The type of high that gave off dangerous vibes.
“Thank you,” I told Rick as I set down my shot glass on the bar and climbed into the stool next to him.
“I’m surprised you came out,” he said. “I expected a no.”
“Why?” I asked.
This made him give a dry laugh. He gestured to me. “You seem like the careful type.”
I sucked down half of my vodka cranberry way too fast.
“I am. But I have fun too.”
He turned to face me, opening his legs and scooting closer. My heart picked up nervous speed.
“Tell me what made you swipe right on me.” His voice was low, kind of raw.
I mashed my lips together in thought, then took another huge pull from the straw. Rick met the bartender’s eye and nodded to my drink.
“You really don’t have to,” I said, but he waved it off.
“The question,” he said.
Oh, yeah, that. I cleared my throat. “To be honest, you don’t seem all that dangerous in your profile.” Aw, fuck, why did I have to be so honest?
He chuckled darkly. “But I do in real life?”
“Um…” My face heated, making him chuckle. Then I blurted, “What do you do for a living? Are you a chef?”
