Page 13 of The Chance
"I'm not. There wasn't a connection, Linda. You can't force these things," I chided feeling unsatisfied in the men department.
"You missed your chance. I'm never helping you again."
"Hallelujah! You got the hint." I palmed my brow and laughed. The girl would never give up forcing men on me. "I met a guy, but it's complicated.”
"For goodness sake, Lexi. What's the complication this time? Are his lips stitched shut?"
"He lives in Dublin."
"And... are you planning to marry him?"
"No!" I protested.
"Well then?" Her frustrated rasp was bordering on angry.
"What's the point?" I sighed into the phone, thinking of his thick hair like black velvet and those eyes that glistened with all things wicked. He left me longing for more, much more.
"You're a lost cause. Don't be all doom and gloom tonight, or I'll have to get a new friend."
"What are we doing again?"
"We're hitting up that new bar in Belfast."
"Oh yeah. I have just the outfit!"
"A nun’s tunic?"
"Don't be snide, Linda."
"Don't be picky, Lexi."
* * *
The bar was packed. A standard for Saturday nights in the city. As with every new venue, the spotlight shines bright until another new hip and happening bar opens.
I was feeling locked and loaded since the interrupted incident with Seb. Getting dolled up was my way of forgetting how thrilling it was. Well, I tried to stop thinking about him, but it wasn’t easy.
My honey coloured curls bounced when I coated them in fixing spray. They toppled to my cleavage and tickled the skin. Even that didn’t feel as good as those manly lips I’d lost myself in earlier.
Applying my favourite lipstick of the week, Devil’s Heart, a shade redder than red, I then checked the new set of mink eyelashes that were stuck down to my lash line. I bet if I blinked fast enough, I could move things, whether that would work on Seb's dick was another matter. And to top it all off, I was wearing black skinny slacks with a fitted blazer. It looked like I was naked underneath, which I would be if it weren't for a simple Noir bralet that left my belly exposed behind the silky lining of the jacket.
"Shots or champagne?" I asked Linda who was texting her boyfriend, Brody, with a super scowl on her face.
"Champagne," she said flatly. "This guy is pissing me off."
I ordered a bottle of champagne and glanced at my phone. Why Blake thought it was appropriate to message me was unknown – but he did.
"Ugh! Blake wants to know if we're out tonight."
Her frustrated frown turned upside down and she grinned from ear to ear. "Did you tell him we're here?
"Nope. I don't want to give him mixed signals."
Her tongue clucked, loudly. "Again, with the fucking boring."
I was getting a little riled at her constant need to push me. "Again, with the control freak vibes. Or do you want to see Blake more than your current boyfriend?" Take that piece of honesty pie to the face, Linda.
The corners of her bright pink lips sloped down to the table. "Is it that obvious?"
