Page 20 of One More Round

She is not Simon’s type at all. I can’t stand it.

I turn to Morgan and tell her I’m going to get another drink. I ask the table if I can get anyone anything. I need to get away from here—away from Simon and his date.

By the time I get a seat at the bar, I’ve decided a shot would be a good idea.

“I’d like a shot of tequila, please,” I say to the bartender.

“Make that two,” a deep voice says from behind me.

I don’t turn around, I don’t need to. I can feel him behind me, his heat on my back. Like I said, it’s packed tonight. I sigh.

“What do you want, Simon? Can’t a girl get a little space?” I grumble. He leans in closer to my ear.

“Why do you need space, G?”

Shivers shoot down my spine, caused by a mixture of him being so close plus the use of the nickname only he has ever used. Damn it.

I roll my eyes even though he can’t see. If I ignore him maybe he’ll go away.

Two shots appear in front of me and, as if my luck could get any worse, the bar stool next to me opens up and Simon slides on in.

“My God,” I say defeated.

His responding chuckle is thick and low. It’s a welcome sound, one that I’ve missed for so long. But I’m a little concerned as to why he’s sitting here and not with his girlfriend. He seems amused with me tonight and I don’t much like it.

“What. Why are you here? Can I not take a shot in peace?” I huff, turning to him.

“Why do you want to be alone? Why not just have your shot back at the table?”

Is he goading me?

“Fine, whatever. Let’s take a shot.”

I lick the back of my hand, sprinkle some salt, toss back my shot and quickly bite into my lime wedge. I’m feeling that familiar burn when I look at Simon. He’s staring at me. With a slight shake of the head, he just tosses the shot back.

“Dang. You drink a lot?” I ask. No salt, no lime. Just poison.

He gets the bartender’s attention to order another.

“I’m not doing another shot with you,” I huff.

“Yes, you are.” He smiles.

“No, I’m not. If you haven’t noticed, I came up here to get away from you and your booth babe. So, you can go away.” His eyebrow quirks.

Damn, tequila works fast.

“Booth babe?” he questions.

I choose to ignore him. He knows what a booth babe is.

He laughs again. And I want to relish in it, but no! I will stay strong.

Oh, I hear the song overhead and try to focus on it, but my enjoyment is short-lived when he turns his body toward me, his knees bumping my leg.

“G, are you still salty about Lindsey taking your seat?”

Oh, there’s my next shot. I gesture to it and then swallow it down.

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