Page 3 of Shortcake
“Nowthat’san impressive costume,” I said, noting the very real looking helmet and pants. Jim went without a shirt, highlighting bronzed skin that must have been sprayed on since it was already freezing in New York for late October.
“It’s not a costume. He’s really a firefighter.”
Huh. “Does that make you a firefighter, too?”
His gaze stilled, throat working a swallow before he shook his head. “Nope.”
“But I’m close?”
When he didn’t answer me, our attention shifted back to Jim who full-on had his tongue down Megan Fox’s throat. “How do I know you’re not lying about that guy being your friend? How do I know you didn’t just point out the first guy you saw across the room?”
His brows lifted. “You seriously think that if I had to choose a random person in this bar to be my ‘friend,’ that’s the person I’d pick?”
“It’s who I’d pick. He’s clearly busy. Probably not willing to chat or be disturbed. And most people wouldn’t question it, too embarrassed to interrupt him mid-tonsil hockey tournament.”
“Go ahead. Go ask him.”
I squinted my eyes in the low light as drunken voices pulsed around us from all sides. “Maybe I will.”
We stayed there, locked in each other’s challenging gaze for several heated breaths. Something in my belly trembled as his tongue darted between his lips, wetting them. Finally, his smile inched higher, one side higher in the most endearingly crooked way. “You won’t do it.”
Challenge officially accepted. I’d had just enough tequila and heartbreak to be reckless. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I shouted Jim’s name as loud as I could. “Yo! Jim!”
It wasn’t even about not believing him that he had friends anymore. It was about the dare. The bet. The direct challenge of my spontaneity.
As soon as his name left my lips in my booming voice, the firefighter pulled back from Megan Fox and looked in our direction, utterly disoriented and confused.
“Yeah?” he called back.
Megan Fox looked rightfully annoyed by the disruption, shooting me death glares from across the room.
I pointed down at Brawny Man whose name, I just realized, I didn’t know. “Does this guy belong to you?”
Jim’s mouth curved into a beaming smile. A real smile. Not the breadcrumb smirks Brawny had been giving me. “You could say that. Is he giving you trouble?”
“More like I’m giving him trouble.”
“Good,” Jim laughed. “That goody-two-shoes could use some laughs and a good time tonight.”
With that, Jim dipped his head back down to Megan Fox’s neck, going back to ignoring us.
“Told you,” Brawny said.
“That you’re a goody-two-shoes? I didn’t need anyone to tell me that.”
“Yet, you were going to write me a ticket.” He paused, his gaze meandering across my face before trailing over my shoulder, searching behind me. “Wait a minute… where areyourfriends?”
Well, there it was. The elephant in the room I’d not only been trying to avoid, but forget. I swallowed. “I proposed to my boyfriend yesterday. And instead of celebrating, he left to go home to his wife. And kids.”
Brawny whistled long and low. “Did you know?”
I gasped and shook my head. “No. Of course not. I found out yesterday. So now, I’m here in New York City, alone, on a vacation that I can’t afford and had booked entirely on my maxed out credit cards. But maybe someday karma will do me a solid and give me that big airport proposal I always dreamed about.”
“You always dreamed of being proposed to in an airport?”
“Where better?” I asked. “You’re either going somewhere exciting or coming home from somewhere exciting. And there’s a big crowd to get excited with you. Lots of people to take photos and videos.” I sighed. “Not that it matters anymore.”
Why was I spilling so much about what happened to this stranger? Was there truth serum in that stupid shot I took?
