Page 24 of Pit Stop

“What is this?”

“Something strong. To help you loosen up.”

I sip at it and shudder at the potent taste.

“Good gods, are you trying to get me to pass out?”

He grins at me. “I mean, not passed out, but at least smiling naturally.”

I roll my eyes and take another sip, turning around and scanning the heaving crowd. There are so many people here. So many. It’s making my head hurt.

I lean over and tell Rob that I’m going to stand over at the opposite end of the room, and he just rolls his eyes at me. But I don’t let it deter me. I’m determined.

I’m going to spend my time here pressed up against that lonely wall over there and then I’ll go home. I’ll let Rob have his fun and be a good friend while I’m at it. I know I’m lacking in this department, and that I’m lucky to have friends who really make an effort.

I sip at my drink as I finally make it through the crowd, and as I near the far wall, I meet someone’s gaze.

His gaze.

Maverick.

We both freeze, my lips around the rim of the cup, his slightly parted.

Everything seems to slow, and I can hear a ringing in my ears.

I’m suddenly growing wet.

Fuck. Fuck him for being here, for looking like sex and making me leak into my underwear. Why does he have this effect on me? Why am I all twisted up in knots over him?

Because you like him.

I force that thought away.

“Gods,” I murmur as I break the stare and move up against the wall, pulling the glass up to my lips once more and sippingon the strong alcoholic drink. I need to think of someone else, or anything else. Maverick is making me all sorts of crazy.

As I swallow down gulps of the bitter liquid, someone steps up next to me, bumping into me gently.

“Hey there, handsome,” a deep voice says, and I startle slightly, glancing up at a hunk of a man.

Geez, who made him? He’s not from here, I can assure you of that. He’s otherworldly.

“Hi,” I say and then turn my focus back out to the crowd. I don’t know how to have a conversation with someone. I really don’t. I can’t even pretend.

“What’s your name?” he asks, and I side-eye him.

“Skye.”

“Nice to meet you, Skye. Name’s Tater.”

I stare up at him and blink. “Tater?”

“Yup.”

I feel my lips twitch in amusement and then roll them between my teeth. I will not laugh at this man’s name. No siree. I was raised better than that.

“Cool,” I manage to squeak out and then look away, catching Maverick’s gaze once more. He’s near the bar now, his mouth turned down in a slight frown as he watches me.

“Want another drink?” Tater asks. I stare down into mine and shake my head.

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