Page 21 of Bound

Need to stop thinking about him.

I wait for the bartender to notice me then order my drink.

He smiles, starts mixing, and I lean against the worn wood, my mind drifting to work.

There’s the new social media coordinator to help train, several meetings with Luc about team maintenance—marketing, press, contracts, and the like, and?—

“Hey.”

For a second, I think it’s the bartender and start to thank him, but then I realize as I’ve been thinking about work, a man’s come close.

A very attractive man with a nice smile, striking blue eyes and medium blond hair. He’s in shape and several inches taller than me. And he smells nice.

Too bad my body goes…meh.

Because I’m too focused on the fact that my nerves are on fire from having sat next to Jackson all night, our thighs occasionally brushing, his spicy scent in my nose?—

Jesus. Just stop, Claire.

I want a family.

I want someone who’ll like me for me, not play jerk because he’s too scared to let anyone in and?—

The man next to me flicks his brows up, and I realize I’ve been staring at him for far too long.

“H-hey,” I stammer back.

He sticks out his hand. “I’m Matt.”

My cheeks feel like they’re on fire as I shake it. “H-hi, Matt.”

His smile widens, his brows flick up again, warm fingers wrapping around mine. “What’s your name, baby?”

That feels…

Strange.Wrong.

But I still say, “Claire. I’m Claire Jones.” I shrug. “Pretty much the most boring name in history.”

He chuckles…

And, heaven help me, but Operation Word Vomit commences.

“I actually come from a long line of Joneses, or am adopted into that line, anyway. But Joneses—that’s plural for Jones and without the dreaded apostrophe or worse, the apostrophe and the extra s that people seem to default to on addresses. J-O-N-E-S-E-S. Anyway, my grandmother is a stickler for grammar and punctuation, so I try to make sure I don’t cause her extra undue pain, you know? Because grandmothers are the coolest women around—or at least mine is. She knows how to properly use skibidi Ohio rizz like all the young kids and I swear, even they don’t know what it means, and then she can go and make some of the best chocolate chip cookies you’ve ever tasted. She’s super fun to hang with. Mostly because she adopted me and because we like to solve word puzzles while chowing down on ice cream together. Talk about the best kind of night, especially when there’s bingo?—”

“You know what?” Matt says, slipping his hand from mine and holding up his phone. “This is actually work. I have to take this call.”

I only have a second to frown at the blank screen, indicating no incoming call, before he’s gone, walking away and hurrying out of the room.

“That’ll be twelve dollars.”

“Here.”

It’s a familiar voice, same as the familiar hand that reaches forward and passes the bartender a twenty. “Keep the change.” Then Smitty pushes the mule into my hands and orders, quietly—thank God, he somehow mastered how to be quiet for a few minutes, “Drink that. Christ. I’m dying of secondhand embarrassment over here.”

My cheeks flare and I wince before I guzzle down some vodka. “I suck at dating.”

“And talking apparently,” he says lightly.

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