Page 48 of The Player in New Zealand
Me: So old-school.
Iris: I’ll even use glitter.
Me: Maybe we can do it together when I get back to the US.
“Who are you always texting?” Tane tipped his chin at my phone.
“My sister, Iris. She lives in Chicago with her boyfriend.”
“You two close?”
I sighed and leaned back in my seat, putting my phone down. “We talk a lot, but rarely see each other. I miss her.”
I told Tane about her job in Chicago and her boyfriend and how supportive she’d been of me. “She’s actually the bubbly customer-service one. I love bartending, but sometimes my personality gets in the way.”
“Like with me?” Tane shot me a side glance.
“Ha. Yes. Foot in mouth with that.”
He shifted and changed lanes on the highway. “You love bartending, but you don’t drink alcohol much.”
It wasn’t a question, but I knew what he meant. “Nah, most of the time I don’t like the feeling of being drunk. Especially because I’ve seen bad things happen when people are drunk. Or even questionable things. As a bartender, I always worry when customers get drunk. Do they know that person they’re leaving with? Are they safe?”
“What is it about bartending, then, that you do like?”
I studied the countryside, thinking. “It’s a bit like Goldilocks.”
Tane snorted and I grinned again. “Bear with me here. Some drinks are all alcohol, super strong and burn your throat. Some drinks are all syrupy sweet and you can’t taste the alcohol.” I paused for a minute. “You sure you want to talk about this?”
“It’s fine,” he said quickly, “but thanks.”
“Okay, well, the good drinks, you can taste the alcohol, but it complements the flavors. It’s not just masking the booze. It’s complex and creative. A good mixed drink is really good.”
Tane nodded, looking thoughtful. “You do seem to have a way with it. You’ve done a great job.”
“Thank you.” I beamed.
“And I know you won’t like this. But I’m going to put it out just once and then I’ll never do it again.” He looked at me, a teasing sparkle in his eye. “I think you’re hot as shit. Your legs, the nose stud, your hands. They do it for me.”
“My hands?” I held them up in front of my face. “I think you can compliment my hands all you want.”
“I like how they feel in mine.”
All right,thatmade my cheeks nice and rosy and gave me warm flutters.
“And I do think you’re hot, for the record. You’re big and thick. Have you seen your ass in your little rugby shorts? It’s like a big, juicy peach.” I bit my lip, trying to picture it underneath his clothes.
That earned me another snort.
“How far up does that thigh tattoo go anyway?” I peered over into his lap like I’d be able to see it.
“You’ll find out tonight, it sounds like.” He grinned and I squeezed my thighs together again. The tension was getting thick and I needed to channel it somewhere else before I self-combusted.
“You’ve got the grumpy thing going on. Your sister’s right—you scowl. It’s hot.” The corner of Tane’s mouth flickered up. “On top of that, I did have a really good time this weekend. Your family is fun, and I loved watching you with them. And you’re a good dancer. And, hey! You had a great sober weekend, right?” I smacked his arm with the back of my hand. “That’s something you should be really proud of.”
“Aw, ya know. My family’s supportive. No one pushed me or nothin’.”
“Don’t downplay it.” I poked him in the side. He jerked away and captured my finger before I could poke again.
