Page 4 of Unwritten Rules
Talk to him, my subconscious screams at me.This is your last night in town. You should make the most of it.
I want to scold her for being so brazen in her approach to the mystery man, but I stop myself when piercing blue eyes meet mine. The air in my lungs evaporates at the sight of them. They’re like a calm ocean just before dusk—deep and endless with a hint of mystery. I’m drawn to them like a bee to the hive,desperate to keep them locked on mine even if it’s to admire them for a few seconds longer.
“Do you have a staring problem?”
His deep voice snaps me out of my trance. I shift my weight on the stool and clear my throat, hoping he can’t see the steam of embarrassment coming off my cheeks.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to stare at you like that.”
The man’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, accentuating the sharp curve of his jaw. He’s clean-shaven and tanned like he has spent countless hours in the sun. Every inch of his strong features has my core heating up and my stomach rolling with anticipation. A scar slashes through his right eyebrow, only adding to the mystery he alludes to. I want to reach out and drag my finger along the healed skin, but quickly refrain from making a fool of myself.
A lazy grin turns up his lips, fuelling the fire simmering beneath my skin. “I don’t mind.” He brings the glass he’s drinking from to his lips and swallows the liquid. I’m mesmerised by the curve of his throat and how it moves effortlessly.
Jesus. What is wrong with me?
It must be the alcohol making me think these unhinged thoughts.
He clears his throat and places the glass on the table. To my surprise, he turns his body to give me his full attention. “What’s your name?”
The dryness in my throat is unbearable, like thousands of cotton balls have been shoved inside my mouth. But somehow, I clear my throat and utter, “Tatum. You?”
“Sinnett, but my friends call me Sin.”
“Sin…” I murmur, testing his name on my tongue. “What an interesting name.”
He tilts his head to the side, intense ocean eyes roaming over my face, down the base of my throat and stops at the plunging neckline of the little black dress I threw on before I left the house. It was one of the last things I had yet to pack; I was considering leaving it behind since I didn’t know how often I’d get the chance to go out on the town in Sydney. But the longer Sinnett continues to stare at my chest, eliciting a burning ache in my core, the more thankful I am that I haven’t packed it yet.
I clear my throat for what feels like the tenth time and gesture behind me. “Are you new to town?”
He shakes his head. “I’m just visiting for the weekend.”
I want to ask who the subject of his visit is, but Sinnett doesn’t strike me as the type of person who willingly shares information about himself. Maybe it’s the overwhelming I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude wafting from him. He might be giving me his full attention, but I can tell by his stiff shoulders and clenched fist on his thigh he is reserved.
“Well, welcome to Barrenridge where there is literally fuck all to do.”
Sinnett chuckles, the deep sound like music to my ears. It does nothing to ease the tension building in my core. “Yeah, well, if it has a pub then I’m easily occupied.”
“Then you’re at the right place,” I respond, turning to sip on my drink.
I take the pause in conversation to consider what the hell I’m doing. It could be my drunken state or the fact that he’s the most handsome man I have had the privilege to lay eyes on, but all I can think about is what it would feel like to kiss him—among other things I can’t bring myself to dwell on. He’s a stranger, so I shouldn’t be thinking this way, but it’s hard to ignore when my body is craving his touch.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Forever Young” by Youth Group sounds through the pub, drawing my attention. I drum my fingers on the bar, intent on listening to the lyrics and not focusing on the man beside me, intense eyes fixed on the side of my face.
“So, Tatum, what doyoulike to do for fun around here?”
My heart slams into my throat as I drag my eyes to meet Sinnett’s. He’s looking at me with curiosity, but I catch the slightest hint of mischief. The side of his mouth tilts up in a smirk, and I’m seconds away from melting into a puddle at his feet.
I need to get a grip. I don’t know this man.
“I, uh… n-not much,” I answer, stumbling over my words. “I-I mean, there isn’t much to do here other than work or come to the Barrenridge Pub for a schnitty and chips and a slap on the pokies. Maybe if you’re lucky, the local pool won’t be inundated with children and you can actually enjoy the water without wondering if you’re soaking in piss.”
My eyes flutter close as heat races up my throat. I need to stop drinking alcohol because it’s making me talk far too much, and in front of a man like Sinnett, it’s basically social suicide. Maybe I need to stop talking to him in general to avoid making myself look even more like a fool.
Sinnett drags his tongue over his teeth, nodding slowly. “Uh-huh. So you’ve never done anything…crazy?”
I tilt my head to the side, searching his face. The cheeky smile indicates he’s referring to a hidden agenda, but I’m clueless as to what. It isn’t until he leans forward, rests his elbow on the bar, and glances down at my body do I realise what he’s referring to.
