Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Closer and closer, the woman’s dark gaze drifts toward me until finally landing on my face . . . and then staying put. Hello. When our eyes lock, I feel an insane jolt of adrenaline shooting through me, a tidal wave of energy that sends electricity shooting across my skin and causes a massive, dopey grin to involuntarily unfurl across my face.
She doesn’t react to my puppy-dog smile but instead turns her head and nonchalantly takes a dainty sip of her martini. Oh, come on, sweetheart. Must we play games? Surely, a random woman on the receiving end of a smile that big and goofy would react in some way, if only to look at the customer next to her to discern if my greeting was perhaps aimed at them. At the very least, a random woman would return my smile, if only half-heartedly, or flash me a “Not a chance, buddy!” look, since it’s beyond obvious this goddess is out of my league.
But nope. In the face of my over-the-top grin, this particular woman didn’t do any of the things I’d expect but instead chose to do something unnatural. Nothing. Which strongly suggests she’s Hot Teacher and for some reason doesn’t want me knowing that yet.
I continue staring at her profile, willing her to look at me and confirm what my gut already knows. But no dice. For a full two minutes, she continues sipping her martini while glancing anywhere and everywhere but toward me.
“Grayson!” a male voice says. A second later, I feel a nudge on my shoulder.
I peel my eyes off the curvy goddess at the bar and discover my work buddy, Max, standing before me.
Shit.
Instantly, I regret inviting Max to join me tonight. When I texted him, I figured it’d calm my nerves to have a buddy with me in case Hot Teacher showed up with friends. Or, if she didn’t show up, I thought it’d be nice to have some company while I drank myself into oblivion until closing time. But now that Max is here, standing mere feet away from the hot brunette I’m dead-ass sure is Hot Teacher, I realize it was pure stupidity to invite him.
What if Hot Teacher decides she likes Max better than me? Max is thirty after all, which is old enough, if only barely, to be her thirteen-year-old’s father. Also, Max is a corporate lawyer making six figures, not some lowly IT minion who spends his days exorcising malware from lawyers’ laptops. And worst of all, Max has the kind of bad-boy good looks and swagger women can’t resist.
Thankfully, I didn’t tell Max about the Hot Teacher situation when I texted him earlier, or he’d probably flirt with that brunette simply because he’s a competitive guy who’d enjoy showing a newbie like me how it’s done.
“Find us a table while I grab us some drinks,” Max commands. That’s what we usually do when we go out together since Max makes a shit-ton more money than I do.
But this time, as grateful as I am for Max’s generosity, there’s no way I’m letting him anywhere near the bar. Not when that curvy, charismatic goddess is sitting at the far end of it, and I’m almost positive she’s the woman I came here to meet.
“Nah, drinks are on me this time,” I say, grabbing Max’s arm to stop his movement.
We go back and forth for a bit but ultimately agree I’ll buy the drinks while Max finds a table. As Max disappears into the packed crowd, I turn around, eager to make my way toward the brunette. But after only a couple steps, a rowdy group of young women appears in front of me and blocks my progress.
“Excuse me, ladies,” I say. “Coming through.”
Rather than stepping aside, one of the women grabs my arm like I’m her long-lost friend and shouts, “We’re celebrating my bestie’s twenty-first birthday!” She indicates another woman in the group—a pretty blonde wearing a sash that reads, “I’m 21 & Hot! Buy me a shot!”—and yells above the din, “Will you buy her a shot?”
“Uh, sure,” I reply, partly out of politeness and partly because saying yes seems like the easiest way for me to get past this roadblock. “Do all of you want shots? I’m headed to the bar to place an order, anyway.”
The women cheer and thank me profusely—and then quickly part like the Red Sea to let me pass, now that I’m doing their bidding.
At the bar, I tell myself not to smile at the brunette this time, but instead try to smolder the way Max always does . . . But shit! When I glance down the length of the bar, the hot brunette isn’t there anymore.
I turn around and scan the place, my heart racing, and, to my relief, discover the curvy brunette walking with a group of women around her age toward the back of the bar.