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Authors: Olivia Stephens
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if he’s left-handed?” I ask jokingly, and I see Jake’s lips quirk up in a smile that he can’t help but let spread across his face.
“Then I guess he’d give his left arm too,” Jake replies, letting out a low laugh.
Our eyes meet again and I recognize that sensation of being pulled towards him, like being close to him is the only place where things make any sense—the only place that I want to be.
I look down at what I’m wearing and suddenly feel very conscious of how short my denim shorts are, and just how much leg they expose. My little camisole top isn’t anything special but right now it feels indecent, like it’s showing a little too much cleavage. This is what being close to Jake has started to do to me—I feel like I have sex on the brain whenever I’m around him. I wonder absently if this must be what it’s like to be a guy.
“For you,” Noah says, interrupting my train of thought and making me blush on impulse. He pushes another beer towards me, winking and smiling like he knows something that I don’t. “From your friend at the end of the bar.” He nods towards the guy that was supposedly checking me out.
“Oh,” I say, surprised and, if I’m being honest, a little flattered. Strange men don’t buy me drinks in bars; it’s really not as if this is something that happens all the time. “Thanks,” I say, holding up the beer to the guy in a salute, giving him a smile.
“Smooth,” Jake says, his voice a little harsher than I’ve been used to hearing it. “The guy’s got a pair of balls on him; how does he know that we’re not on a date? I could be your boyfriend for all he knows, and he’s sitting over there buying you drinks. It’s disrespectful,” he says, shaking his head in disgust, frowning.
I’m surprised at his reaction. “Well you’ve changed your tune,” I comment, giving him a playful nudge that doesn’t seem to go any way toward wiping the moody look off of his face. “I thought you were all about me taking compliments?” I ask.
“I am,” Jake admits grudgingly, looking like he doesn’t really know what it is that he’s trying to say. “It’s just the guy should be careful who he’s flirting with when he doesn’t know the whole story,” he explains lamely, not really making much sense.
“Okay…” I say slowly, still not understanding what it is that’s got Jake so worked up.
“I need to take a piss,” he says abruptly, slipping off in the direction of the restrooms without a backward glance and I’m left feeling like I’ve done something wrong without having any idea of what that might be.
CHAPTER TEN
I sit staring at the beer in my hand for a little while, wondering what had happen to change Jake’s whole demeanor so quickly and seemingly without any reason.
“Did I get the drink wrong?” The voice comes from next to me and I start a little.
It’s the guy from the end of the bar, and close up, he’s actually better looking than I had given him credit for. Brown hair and dark hazel eyes, along with a charming smile, are a pretty winning combination.
“Should I maybe have gone for something a little more exciting? Maybe one of those cocktails with the teeny-tiny umbrellas in them?” he jokes.
“Oh, no,” I smile, shaking my head, trying to recall all of Suzie’s advice about flirting and failing miserably. “Beer’s good,” is all I can think to say, and I wonder if I sound like as much of a Neanderthal as I think I do.
“Sorry, I don’t want to bother you, but I just could help noticing you,” he says, smiling shyly, and I feel my own mouth smiling in reply. I don’t really know how to respond. “I’m Nic,” he tells me, sticking his hand out to shake.
Automatically, I respond with a firm shake that my dad had taught me was an important first impression. If you have a limp handshake then people will think you’re a walk-over, but too firm
“Then I guess he’d give his left arm too,” Jake replies, letting out a low laugh.
Our eyes meet again and I recognize that sensation of being pulled towards him, like being close to him is the only place where things make any sense—the only place that I want to be.
I look down at what I’m wearing and suddenly feel very conscious of how short my denim shorts are, and just how much leg they expose. My little camisole top isn’t anything special but right now it feels indecent, like it’s showing a little too much cleavage. This is what being close to Jake has started to do to me—I feel like I have sex on the brain whenever I’m around him. I wonder absently if this must be what it’s like to be a guy.
“For you,” Noah says, interrupting my train of thought and making me blush on impulse. He pushes another beer towards me, winking and smiling like he knows something that I don’t. “From your friend at the end of the bar.” He nods towards the guy that was supposedly checking me out.
“Oh,” I say, surprised and, if I’m being honest, a little flattered. Strange men don’t buy me drinks in bars; it’s really not as if this is something that happens all the time. “Thanks,” I say, holding up the beer to the guy in a salute, giving him a smile.
“Smooth,” Jake says, his voice a little harsher than I’ve been used to hearing it. “The guy’s got a pair of balls on him; how does he know that we’re not on a date? I could be your boyfriend for all he knows, and he’s sitting over there buying you drinks. It’s disrespectful,” he says, shaking his head in disgust, frowning.
I’m surprised at his reaction. “Well you’ve changed your tune,” I comment, giving him a playful nudge that doesn’t seem to go any way toward wiping the moody look off of his face. “I thought you were all about me taking compliments?” I ask.
“I am,” Jake admits grudgingly, looking like he doesn’t really know what it is that he’s trying to say. “It’s just the guy should be careful who he’s flirting with when he doesn’t know the whole story,” he explains lamely, not really making much sense.
“Okay…” I say slowly, still not understanding what it is that’s got Jake so worked up.
“I need to take a piss,” he says abruptly, slipping off in the direction of the restrooms without a backward glance and I’m left feeling like I’ve done something wrong without having any idea of what that might be.
CHAPTER TEN
I sit staring at the beer in my hand for a little while, wondering what had happen to change Jake’s whole demeanor so quickly and seemingly without any reason.
“Did I get the drink wrong?” The voice comes from next to me and I start a little.
It’s the guy from the end of the bar, and close up, he’s actually better looking than I had given him credit for. Brown hair and dark hazel eyes, along with a charming smile, are a pretty winning combination.
“Should I maybe have gone for something a little more exciting? Maybe one of those cocktails with the teeny-tiny umbrellas in them?” he jokes.
“Oh, no,” I smile, shaking my head, trying to recall all of Suzie’s advice about flirting and failing miserably. “Beer’s good,” is all I can think to say, and I wonder if I sound like as much of a Neanderthal as I think I do.
“Sorry, I don’t want to bother you, but I just could help noticing you,” he says, smiling shyly, and I feel my own mouth smiling in reply. I don’t really know how to respond. “I’m Nic,” he tells me, sticking his hand out to shake.
Automatically, I respond with a firm shake that my dad had taught me was an important first impression. If you have a limp handshake then people will think you’re a walk-over, but too firm
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