Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 86596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
The blonde turns up her nose. “How do you know?”
I nudge him.
“I’m not interested,” Eli dutifully deadpans, drinking his drink and watching the little show unfold. Behind us, the bartender wipes and wipes and wipes the countertop in the same darn spot.
“See? He’s not interested. Have a good night, ladies.” I raise my glass in a toast. “Thanks for the memories.”
They’re still standing there, the three of them unsure what to do or where to go.
I’d be embarrassed if I were them. They waltzed over brazenly assuming Eli would toss me aside because they’re pretty? Big deal, this room is full of pretty people—and news flash, I’m no slouch!
After several more moments of awkward silence, there’s more nudging, more narrowed eyes, more pursed pouty lips before they wander off into the crowd, sparkles and displeasure disappearing.
I turn to Eli. “What. Was. That?”
I’m shook.
To my core.
“Is that how women behave these days? What in the actual…?” My head shakes.
“Yeah, that’s how women behave these days,” intones the bartender, his own look of disgust pulling his mouth into a frown. “That deserves a round on the house. What can I get you?”
I shake my head again. “I’m good—but thank you. In fact, I might need to head home and climb into bed with a gallon of ice cream and potato chips to numb my feelings.”
Honestly.
They had taken one good look at me and not found me a worthy adversary. Thought I would be easy to get rid of so they could have Eli all to themselves. I’m not a particularly self-conscious person, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt a bit—having other women judge me and find me lacking.
“Thanks, man, but I’ll pass too. Appreciate it, though.” Eli pulls out a wad of cash from his back pocket and sets a twenty-dollar bill on the counter, his hand now at the crook of my elbow, leading me away.
“Can you imagine if I was alone with those vultures?” Eli shudders beside me.
I groan. “No, I cannot imagine. Those girls were awful.” I shudder too. “I can’t imagine what it’s like for one of your players to have fans like that who don’t take no for an answer.”
“Well, to be fair, none of them actually asked me outright if I was interested.”
“Did they have to?” I glance down the front of my stained dress. “They purposely spilled wine on me so I’d disappear.”
“I still can’t fucking believe it. I am so sorry. I’ll pay for the dress.”
“You shouldn’t have to. You did nothing wrong.” The woman in the blue dress should be getting a dry-cleaning bill, not Eli. That is if the dress is even salvageable.
Should have worn jeans like I’d originally planned.
“Do you actually want to go home and put your pajamas on and eat chips in bed?”
“Kind of. It’s still early, and the whole front of me is…moist.”
Eli gags at the word moist. “I hate that word.”
“Everyone hates that word. It’s literally on every list ever created among words that make people cringe.” I run a hand down the front of my skirt. “Moist.”
Eli gags.
It takes us a good fifteen minutes to walk through the outside crowds and down the street to the parking structure to locate his car. Luckily, he has reserved parking, and it’s on the first level, with an easy exit from the place.
Sighing once I’m buckled in, I kick off my shoes. “I bought sour cream and onion chips on a whim yesterday—does that not sound delicious?”
He shrugs as he makes a right-hand turn. “Eh. I’d rather do barbecue.”
“I have those too. Couldn’t decide.” I laugh.
“Can I have some?”
I look at him.
Is he being a pervert, or does he actually want chips, and why do I turn everything into an innuendo?
“Are you being serious?”
“Molly, it’s not even nine o’clock. We cut the night way short. The party was just getting started. We did the thing, and now we can actually enjoy the rest of the night. Unless the chips are Zingles—those are gross.”
“They’re not Zingles.” I laugh, giving him another glance. As he drives, he loosens the pink tie around his neck.
Yes. The man wore slacks and a tie to a bar.
He could probably stand to loosen up a notch or twelve.
“Sure. You can come inside when you drop me off if you want. We can watch a movie or a series or something.”
I catch him smile. “Cool.”
Posey is not at home when I get there, and I direct Eli to the kitchen immediately, like a little drill sergeant, giving him a few tasks to complete while I run upstairs and peel off this damp dress. For the most part, it’s dry but sticky and super uncomfortable. I do a rinse-off in the shower, albeit a quick one, and slide into my favorite pair of sweatpants. It’s the pair I was wearing the night Eli and I met, so I have no qualms slipping into them again. Ha!