Page 86 of Three Bossy Boyfriends
That makes me chuckle softly under my breath. “My cock is getting hard just thinking about how we’re going to celebrate.”
Finley glances down at the front of my jeans. “Oh, well. Hello there.” She raises her gaze to meet mine and flicks her tongue over her bottom lip in a way that only increases the blood flow to my dick. “Buy me a drink.”
I realize I’m trailing after her, and I don’t even mind.
Jesus. This girl…
“Vodka tonic,” she tells the bartender.
“You’re not even easing in,” I comment.
“It’s been a week…or two.”
“I can imagine. How are you doing?” I ask. “For real? As a friend.”
“We’re friends now?” She leans against the bartop. “I had you more in the fuck- boy category, if I’m being honest.”
That annoys me more than it should. She’s clearly just trying to get under my skin or stay in control. Or both.
I edge into her space. I half expect her to push me away, but she doesn’t.
Finley holds her ground.
When I brush her leg with mine, forcing her to widen her stance a little, I lean forward.
Her breath hitches. Her lips part.
She thinks I’m going to kiss her.
Which I want to do.
But not yet. I shift right past her and grab a handful of nuts out of the bowl on the bar. Normally, I would never eat these fucking nuts, but I don’t have any other excuse for my reach, so I toss them in my mouth.
“Sorry.” I step back. “I’m hungry.”
Finley’s cheeks are a little pink, and she turns away from me with a huff.
“Hastings! Hey, Hastings!”
My friends are calling over to me. “Mike says you’re up.”
“Gotta go,” I tell Finley. “Time to dedicate a song to you.” I tap her nose because I suspect she’ll hate that.
I’m right. She instantly bristles.
But before she can respond, I say, “Be right back.” Then I move to the makeshift stage in the center of the bar and accept the microphone from Mike, the emcee. He’s been hosting karaoke since the dawn of time, and he looks surprised to see me up there.
He should be surprised. I hate singing in public.
“‘She Hates Me’ by Puddle of Mudd,” Mike says jovially. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of this one, but it sure doesn’t sound like a love song.”
Finley’s jaw drops.
Every ounce of embarrassment I’m about to feel is worth catching her off guard.
“I want to dedicate this to Finley Anderson.” I clear my throat and start singing. The actual lyrics include words stronger than the title would suggest, and just a few lines in, Finley is laughing her ass off and swaying back and forth. She gives a whoop and puts her fist in the air.
I stop singing and gesture to Mike to cut the music. “Stop, stop.”
