Page 5 of For the Win
Not yet.
I take him in, studying the light-brown skin and sandy-brown hair pulled tightly back, highlighting strong features that look Italian or Middle Eastern. He has thick eyebrows, a permanent furrow to his brow and his jaw is shadowed with darker stubble. I bet his chest is hairy too. I wonder if he’d like me to help him out of his expensive clothes so I can find out and he can be free to wreak some fiery havoc on the nearest village.
I’m the village in this scenario.
Lucky for me, I’m nobody’s role model tonight. Just a guy who wants to get to the end of this song so I can introduce myself to the man I’ll be propositioning.
What about Val and Connor?
They’re grown men who can take care of themselves.
That almost shakes me out of my lust-induced haze, because it’s not something I’ve ever thought before. Taking care of my friends is my thing. Part of my identity, along with loving musicals and telenovelas, and knowing odd facts about thefounding mothers and fathers of our nation. It’s this insta-obsession with a complete stranger that isn’t normal for me.
Still, I can’t stop staring. He seems so out of place here. It’s not only the way he’s not dressed for the Christmas party—in tailored dark-gray slacks and a formfitting white dress shirt that he’s wearing with the sleeves rolled up like a tease.
(Who doesn’t love a good forearm?)
It’s how he’s standing, as if he’s ready to repel any comers. The tightness in his shoulders. He looks more uncomfortable than Val usually does, so I bet he’s not a regular at any bar. At least, not any around here.
Maybe that’s part of his allure. I doubt I’ve ever run into him at the grocery store or that he has a kid in my school, which makes him more enticing. The way he’s focusing entirely on me doesn’t hurt either. I’ve always wondered what passionate and potentially aggressive sex would feel like. I get the sense that I could experience that with him tonight.
And now I’ve turned a wholesome song raunchyandI have a hard-on. More firsts for me. Thank goodness for drunk audiences and oversized sweaters.
As I belt the last bridge, he reaches into his snug pants pocket for his phone without looking away from me and says something to Seamus, who nods and gestures toward the back. The stranger gives me one last blazing look, subtly tilts his head, and then disappears down a hallway.
Does he want me to follow him? Just like that? Without buying me a drink and having the kind of conversation I usually require to make sure my hookup can speak in coherent sentences? (A guy has to have a few standards.)
My mind is so preoccupied with his presumption I barely realize the song has ended until the music stops and the crowd starts shouting for an encore. I meet Kate’s eyes briefly and shake my head, leaving the stage.
“Incredible,” Kate says into the microphone behind me. “This man needs to come to every bash from now on. Our own personal bard. What do you think? Should I twist his arm?”
The audience goes crazy again, and everyone I pass pats me on the back or shakes my hand as I walk back to our table.
“Great song,” Val says with a genuine smile. “You sounded fantastic, as usual.”
“Are you okay, Win?” Bex’s smile disappears as she hovers at my side. “What happened?”
I huff impatiently. “I’m fine. It was a nice surprise and I had fun, so thank you. I saw someone I need to talk to, that’s all. I didn’t want you to worry.”
She lifts a knowing brow. “Is it someone you know or someone you’re never going to give your number to?”
Sometimes having friends who get you that completely is irritating.
“No comment. I’ll be back soon.” I ignore her smirk and follow the stranger.
Like a fool.
That head tilt could have meant anything. He had an ache in his neck. He was offering a silent acknowledgement of my vocal stylings or admitting defeat in our staring competition. He could really have a phone call, and I just misread the cues. But the tilt gave me some serious come-hither vibes.
Who says come-hither anymore?
Oh right. People who teach history and want to jump on the junk of guys that remind them of fictional dragon assassins. Also, it sounds classier than “probably wants a blowjob” vibes.
This isn’t the spot I would have picked for that kind of meeting. Frankly, I’m not sure why Seamus allowed him back here in the first place. It’s for employees and family members only, a fact I know because Connor occasionally gets lost on his way to the bathroom after he’s had a drink or two.
There’s a door that leads down to the in-house brewery and another to the owner’s office. That one is partially open.
“No trouble. But I haven’t seen anything interesting here tonight,” drawls a voice that instantly makes me think of sweaty sex and cowboys. I wasn’t expecting an accent like that.
