Page 16 of Face Off
“Well, nonetheless,” I begin to say before a few employees interrupt us.
I quietly excuse myself, taking the interruption as my cue to leave, making my way over to the bar where I find Cassidy inall her glory. I pop a squat next to her, ordering a jack and Coke and then downing half of it as soon as it’s set in front of me.
Cassidy raises an eyebrow at me curious as to ask what’s going on. “So, wanna talk about it?”
“Talk about what?”
She smiles before taking a sip of her own drink. “Being here with your parents.” She takes another sip. “Brooks Miller.”
“What about him?”
“Oh, come on. I see how you two act around one another. You like him, and he likes you. I mean for goodness sake, you left with him the other night from the bar.”
I chug the rest of my drink, narrowing my eyes at her over the brim of the glass. Brooks Miller is exactly the type of man I need to stay away from. Sure, he’s had his moments where I think he’s more than the self-certified playboy he is, but even Hansel and Gretel had the wool pulled over their eyes. He’s everything I can’t stand, and I loathe him for it.
“I’m pretty sure he stole a pair of my panties when he dropped me off the other night,” I say, gesturing to the bartender for another jack and Coke.
“I KNEW IT!” Cassidy yells as loud as she could, some guests glancing in our direction.
“Nothing happened!”
She narrows her eyes at me suspiciously. “Liar. Why would he have stolen a pair of your panties if you didn’t do anything?”
“I don’t know… to be a creep?” I sigh, taking a sip from the fresh glass. “He went to use the bathroom, then acted all weird and rushed out.”
A devilish smile plays at her lips as she sips her wine. “Well, why don’t you just ask him about it?”
“Yeah… not something I can ask him at work, now is it?”
“You could always ask him now. He’s coming this way,” she says, standing from her seat at the bar to walk away. My face is shocked as I search the room for him. “So, what if he did take a pair? Gives you something to fuck with him.”
I watch her walk away from the bar, drink in hand, whispering in Brooks’ ear as she passes by him. I steady my breath as he walks toward me. His navy suit fits him like a glove, showing off all the muscles hidden beneath perfectly. His beard is manicured as always, while his unruly dark hair is somewhat tamed. I turn back to the bar, releasing the breath I didn’t know I was holding as he pulls out the stool next to me.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he states as if this was completely unplanned.
I watch as he orders a beer from the bartender. A woodsy scent and fresh soap fill my senses as he leans closer to me. His warm breath on my neck ignites my senses even further as he whispers in my ear.
“Mr. Richards invited a few important players on the team tonight as well. How lucky did I get that I get to see you.” He stares at me, taking a long draw of his beer.
I turn my head to look at him, my brows furrowing as a smirk forms at my lips. “Are you sure about that? Or did you come here tonight so you could return the pair of panties you stole from my house the other night?”
He stares like a toddler who has gotten caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. Maybe Cassidy is right. This could be fun, fucking with Brooks’ head. Just when I thinkI have the upper hand, his demeanor changes to something seductive. He’s glancing out at the couples dancing to the music.
“Come dance with me,” he says, standing and holding out his hand toward me. “You want those panties back, don’t you?”
I shake my head in protest, but my body has other plans. My hand grips his palm, as I stand from the barstool. There’s no way he brought those with him here only to use them to his advantage and dance with me. We walk out to the dance floor, joining the others, my right hand gripped tightly in his as my left arm rests on his shoulder. His left hand moves to my hips, gripping it ever so gently, pulling us close as we sway to the music.
“So, where are my panties?” I murmur low enough for him to only hear me.
He chuckles at my adamancy. “You think I’d carry them around with me?”
Yes. No. Maybe?
“I don’t know. It could be some sort of weird fetish you have,” I say with a smirk. “Do you do that often? Steal women’s unmentionables?”
He pauses for a moment, contemplating his response. “You really think I stole a pair of your panties?”
“Yes, and I would like them back; they’re part of a matching set,” I state, matter of fact.
