Page 38 of Text Appeal

“Why don’t you go ahead and put yours in mine,” I say. “She’s going to hate seeing it, but sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. The sooner we establish our coupledom, the sooner we can all move on.”

“Okay.” His free hand, the one not holding a beer, slides carefully into the left front pocket of my jeans. A bit intimate but fine. All the fidgeting from his fingers, however, is unexpected. “There’s not much room. What have you got in here?”

“Um. Yeah. A few things.”

“Just a few?”

“I didn’t want to carry a purse,” I say in the same low voice. We don’t want anyone overhearing us. “My stuff has to go somewhere.”

“What’s this? Lipstick?”

“Tinted lip balm. But close enough. Maybe we should—”

“What else is in here?” he asks with amusement.

“Just the necessities.”

The way he continues to feel his way around the close confines as he tries to guess at the contents is distracting to say the least. It’s been a while since anyone but me has had their hand in that area. Then there’s the part about us being in public.

Instinct tells me to step back. To shut down the sudden ache he’s awoken. However, he is standing right behind me, and common sense suggests bumping him with my butt is not the answer. No. It’ll be fine. Him wiggling his fingers in the vicinity of my vagina caught me by surprise. But hey, at least he’s distracted and happy now.

Nicole finishes her second song to much applause. Next up is an acoustic version ofIrreplaceableby Beyoncé. Another interesting choice. Still no comment on the music from Connor. Though I catch a brief frown on his face out of the corner of my eye. Curiouser and curiouser.

Connor whispers in my ear, “Don’t forget to smile.”

“Right. Smiling. I am very happy and not anxious at all.”

“No one’s judging you.”

“A good ninety-nine percent of the room is judging me.”

He does a quick survey of the bar. “Yeah. You’re right. I don’t know why I said that.”

“It was sweet if misguided.”

“Thanks. This feels like some sort of pill,” he says, getting back to his pocket game.

“It’s Advil for when you give me a headache.”

“Me giving you a headache is a definite? You wound me, Riley.”

“Just speaking my truth. Do you want me to lie?”

Holy shit.The man actually grins. While standing in the same room as his ex-girlfriend and the greater sum of town gossips. Amazing.

“What?” he asks when he catches sight of my smile.

“Nothing. Just nice to see you relax and enjoy yourself for a second.”

His smile eases. But it doesn’t disappear and that’s what matters. He sets his empty beer bottle on the edge of the bar and gets back to business. One hand returns to my pocket while the other rests on my other hip. Holding me in place for all intents and purposes.

This really isn’t good. There’s the whole issue with the way my body lights up at his touch. But my panties are also a problem. Moisture levels are on the rise. I can’t relocate his limb to my other front pocket since it’s stuffed full of tissues in case of allergies. This, however, cannot continue.

“Connor, why don’t we hold hands instead?”

“Hair tie,” he says, ignoring my sensible suggestion.

“You’re just a regular Sherlock Holmes, aren’t you?”

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