Page 50 of Dashing for Love

“What are we going to do?” he whispers.

I press my lips together and shake my head, unable to answer him. Because it hits me that maybe he might want this. But maybe he doesn’t. That despite our weeks of getting to know each other as James and Dawn, it might not be enough. Maybe the only thing I’ll ever be to him is his best friend’s little sister.

He looks up at Anthony, who’s moved down to our end of the bar to check on us. “I think we need shots. Yes?” He glances at me.

“Yes.” I can’t say it fast enough.

“Tequila?”

“Again, yes.”

Anthony swivels his gaze between the two of us, probably trying to assess what’s going on. The good thing is, even if he were to somehow figure it out, he won’t tell his brother. And right now, I think we both need as much privacy as this town will give us. He must get whatever he’s looking for, because he nods and turns away to grab the bottle and shot glasses.

“Don’t bother with salt and lime,” I tell him, my eyes never leaving Matty’s.

The shots appear. We raise the glasses in a silent salute, then toss the tequila back. It burns going down, like always, and I welcome the familiarity. We slam the glasses down.

“Another.” We say it at the same time.

“Hand over your keys,” Anthony grouses. “I don’t know what you two are up to.”

Matty’s lips—the lips I’ve kissed and fantasized about every night since—tip into a grin. “He’s probably right.”

I dig into my purse and slide my Jeep’s key fob over to him, making sure to keep my house key. Matty pulls his truck key off the ring and slides it across the bar. Anthony takes them both and drops them into a jar behind him. Satisfied, he pours our second round.

By the third round, we’ve discussed our fake names, both of which are our middle names and both of which we can’t believe didn’t immediately give us away. By the fourth round, we’re babbling about anything and everything that doesn’t involve the two of us and our situation, completely ignoring the big ass elephant in the room and pretending everything is fine.

When I order a fifth round, Anthony shakes his head and holds his cell up. “I’ve called an Uber. Matty’s buying.”

“I am?” He hiccups. “I am. Of course I am. I’m a fucking gentleman.”

I snicker. “Yes, you are.” With a really thick dick.

He whips his head to me, eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

My own eyes go round as saucers. “WhatdidI just say?”

He leans forward and whispers. At least, I hope it’s a whisper. Who even knows anymore? “Did you just say I…had a thick dick?”

I lean away, my entire body heating up with a blush to end all blushes. “Um. Yes?”

His eyes widen as he breaks into a huge smile. “Really?”

I’m going to die.

“Uber’s here. I’ll walk you out.” Anthony is in front of us, gesturing for us to get off the stools and follow him. “I put a twenty-five percent tip on the card, Matty. For me and the driver. You’re good for it.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” His chest is puffed up as he holds his hand out for mine.

I take it. “He’s good for alotof things, Anthony.” May as well lean into it, right? If ever there was a moment to say ‘fuck it’ and just remove the filter, this is it.

Anthony glances at me, then at Matty, and shakes his head. “I’m sure he is, Goldie.” He opens the door and ushers us out and into the rideshare.

We’re silent in the car, but we sit close, each of us using the other to prop ourselves up. Tilting my head up, I take in his shaggy hair and full lips, and when they lift in a smile, I meet his eyes. They’re my undoing. They always have been.

“Goldie Dash,” he murmurs, reaching his hand up to cradle my face.

Thank God I’m sitting, because the man would have just brought me to my knees.

---