Page 3 of Love Is an Art
It’s not risk-free.
“Can’t you just go up to him?” William asks.
“Normally, I would,” I say. “But as you said, I’m dressed like I haven’t washed my clothes in days. If I walked up to you looking like this, when you were single, would you chat with me?”
“No.” William frowns. “I mean, I might.”
Another woman in a suit walks right up to Hot Guy and does the hair flip. He chats with her for a moment and then turns back to his friends.
“He does appear to be rejecting all the women who approach him,” Miranda says.
“Let’s try it,” I say. “If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.”
Here goes. I swish over to stand near Hot Guy. Our glances meet, and a definite awareness of each other shimmers across. He smiles. I look away. Even that brief glance … My pulse races.
But I ignore him. Luckily, there’s still a crowd two-people deep around the bar. I try to order a beer, but the bartender is busy and doesn’t see me. Granted, I’m only trying when the bartender isn’t looking.
I also don’t exactly look like someone who is going to tip.
William walks up and cuts right in front of me, grabbing the female bartender’s attention and ordering two drinks. I try to peer around William’s broad back to place my order, but it’s as if he’s blocking me out. The bartender shifts to the other side of the bar. William leaves with his beers.
The blond guy leans over to me and says, “That wasn’t fair. You were here first.”
And he’s a good guy—at least as far as this test shows.I shrug as if I don’t care. “It’s okay. I’ll get the bartender the next time around.”
“I’ll help,” he says.
The bartender returns, and I signal more vigorously this time. Hot Guy also raises his hand to help. She takes my order for a beer.
“Let me at least pay for it so you don’t think all guys are assholes,” he says.
He probably thinks I can’t afford it.
“I’m not that judgmental. I’m not going to discredit an entire sex based on one bad apple.” I bite my lip. Is that absolutely true? Some bad apples can really leave a sour taste. “I like to give each person a chance to prove himself. But I do appreciate the offer.”
I face him, and my heart flutters as our glances meet.
Why does he have to be so attractive? And why do I have to be wearing this paint-splattered shirt?
The bartender hands me my beer. I pay and leave a large tip in the cup.
Hot Guy smiles at me. “Well, I just wanted to help you out.” He turns around as if to return to his friends.
Not interested.At least I tried. And it’s not like I want to chase after someone who’s not interested. I turn to retreat to my friends.
His friend, a few feet away, is giving him a thumbs-up and has a huge, goofy grin on his face.
He sighs.
“Your friend seems incredibly happy that you’re chatting with a woman,” I say.
“He’s completely in love with his new girlfriend and wants everyone to experience the same bliss. Especially me.” Hot Guy smiles wryly and faces me.
“That’s a good friend,” I say.
“The best.” His eyes soften. “Are you here alone?”
“No. I’m here with my best friend and her boyfriend.” I have to raise my voice a bit to be heard above the din of the conversations. “She’s an artist and a lead singer for the band, The Tempest.”That was stupid.I wanted to impress him, since he’s now been compelled to stay with me to make his friend happy. But if he saw me with Miranda earlier, and now sees William with her, he’s going to wonder if we’re connected. I shift so I’m facing Miranda and William, forcing him to move so that his back is to them.
