Page 3 of Forever Player

“Huh, don’t tell me that line works for you.” I chuckled.

“It’s not a line.” His gaze roamed over my body, his eyes scanning from my legs past my breasts and up to my face. “You have to know how gorgeous you are.”

“Compliments don’t work with me,” I warned. “In fact, they make me want to run in the opposite direction.”

“What will work? I’m not used to working so hard to get a girl,” he stated.

“Stop working. You’re setting yourself up for failure,” I shot back.

Brett laughed, dipped his head, and shook it from side to side. “I’m trying here. I like your feisty personality. If you’re trying to put me off, it isn’t working. It’s only making me want you more.”

“Maybe you need to see a shrink,” I suggested.

He laughed.

The bartender came up to us. “What can I get you?” He looked at me.

“Whiskey, double on the rocks,” I said to him.

“Me too,” Brett said from behind me. I felt the front of his body brush up to my back and I felt sparks erupt inside me. This was new. I hadn’t felt that kind of attraction before.

The bartender served us, and Brett passed him a bill and told him to keep the change before I could make a move to pay.

I turned and cocked my brow. “You may be used to getting what you want, but it isn’t happening tonight.”

“Fine, all our friends are on the dance floor dancing, so just hang out with me here.”

“Fine,” I conceded and he seemed surprised.

“Fine?” he asked, as if he didn’t understand my response.

“I wouldn’t mind being close to the bar,” I admitted.

“Are you always this standoffish?” he asked sheepishly.

“My father died last week,” I said, as if I told him the weather sucked. “We had a strained relationship. I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

“I understand that,” he said, surprising the hell out of me.

“You do?” I asked, intrigued.

“Not something I talk about, but my dad is an alcoholic. He would disappear for years and then suddenly show up. It’s been five years since I saw him last. I don’t know if he’s dead or alive, and I don’t know if I should be sad or angry, so I just don’t think about him.”

“Damn.” He left me speechless.

“Yeah,” Brett agreed. “Sorry about your father. What was the story with you guys?”

“I am not letting you in on my daddy issues. I don’t even know you,” I said.

“Fine,” he chuckled. “But I may understand you and it’s good to unload, especially to a kindred spirit,” he replied with a dry laugh, throwing me off. This had to be the world’s weirdest conversation to be having with a guy you just met.

“Not happening,” I replied, bringing my tumbler to my lips.

“Let’s just do some shots and say fuck off to the daddy issues for tonight,” he countered.

“Now you’re talking,” I agreed because I wanted to just not feel.

The bartender lined up some shots of tequila.

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