Page 35 of Both Sides Now

Keegan.

He came.

I motion to the row of empty seats at the bar with a dry laugh. "They're all free."

"This one suits me just fine." He settles onto the stool and motions to the bartender. "A vodka gimlet, please."

I quirk my brows at his order. Not standard fare in this local haunt. “What are you, Bond or something?"

"Eh, eh, eh. Bond drank vodka martinis, although I do possess all his other qualifications.” He blows on his fingers, dusting them across his chest with a smirk.

No doubt he does. In spades.

"You have his humility on lockdown, at least,” I tease. “Likely have scores of adoring women, too, Baby Maker.”

Keegan laughs and takes a pull from his drink, but he doesn’t deny my claim. "Dare I ask how your date was tonight?"

A guffaw flies from my lips. Where to begin? “How do you think? I'm alone in a dive bar downing whiskey. It was not a banner evening."

“You’re not alone now.”

"Not anymore." I tear tiny pieces off the bar napkin, feeling a bit foolish that I begged him down here to keep me company. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything important."

He shrugs and maintains his focus on the television, but a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Eh, I finished up and sent her home."

"What a guy," I croak, although my dinner—and whiskey dessert—threaten to make a reappearance.

Keegan laughs in earnest now, pushing a lock of my hair behind my ear. "I'm joking, Calli."

"You sure?"

"Quite positive, although you do owe me for this rescue. You interrupted a Fawlty Towers marathon, right in the middle of one of my favorite episodes.”

Now it's my turn to chuckle. "You watch Fawlty Towers? I call crap on that answer.”

Keegan rests his glass on the bar and fixes me with his azure gaze. “How is it easy to fathom me screwing some nameless woman but impossible to believe I watch Fawlty Towers?"

"Like you said, you're a player. Remember?"

"No, my words were thatyouthought I was one. I'm actually a gentleman."

Deep down, I know his words are true, even though he was anything but gentlemanly the other night, when his mouth and hands claimed me.

Those incredible hands sliding against my skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. How much further could it have gone?

I know how much more I wanted … and how much more I want still.

I fan myself as warmth floods my body from the memory. When Keegan shoots me a look, I snicker and shake my half empty whiskey glass. “The alcohol is getting to me.”

It’s a lie, of course. Keegan is getting to me, just as he has since the first moment our eyes met across his office space.

But, he’s off limits. He’s beautiful and talented—holy hell, he’s talented—but he’s also a celebrated bachelor.

And I’m the resident hot mess currently in his care.

Talk about a tricky situation, although the more whiskey I imbibe, the less insurmountable the obstacles between us seem.

Maybe it’s just my hormones talking.

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