Page 26 of The Wild Card
No dancing on tables.
No dancing on the counter.
***Please don’t make me goFootlooseand ban all dancing.***
No outside alcohol may be consumed (or added to your order).
No spontaneous singing, especially of musicals, especially ofHigh School Musical.
No streaking.
I snort at the last one. This guy’s outfit comes pretty close to violating that one.
Kalli sighs. “I guess I’ll have to add a rule about chaps needing to be worn over actual pants. You do realize this will make three rules added specifically because ofyou, Wolf.”
“But no one’s even here!” He looks around, and his eyes brighten when they land on me. “Pardon me—I stand corrected. You’ve got one customer. I will wait outside—in a minute.”
I find myself straightening in my seat as the man strides over, chaps flapping. I hadn’t even noticed the carefully coiffedmustache, curling up at the ends. Probably because I was distracted by his clothing. Or lack thereof.
“Wolf Waters,” he says, holding out his hand. I glance at Kalli who rolls her eyes and nods as though signaling he’s odd but harmless. “Did I see you earlier with Collin Graham?”
Neither his tone nor his handshake are flirty—just friendly—which puts me a little more at ease, his wardrobe choices aside.
I do my best to keep my eyes on his face. “You did.”
“Collin Graham is good people,” he says. “About time his luck turned around.”
I wonder whatthatmeans.
“WhereisCollin?” Wolf says, glancing around like he expects to find Collin hiding under a table.
“I don’t know.”
When Wolf arches a brow, I realize that not knowing Collin’s whereabouts doesn’t sound very girlfriendy. But does Wolf even think Collin and I are together? He seems to. And I guess he’llneedto.
Before we parted ways Collin and I really should have talked about more than just the fact that we’d come clean to our families.
“I mean, I think he’s with his brothers right now,” I add quickly. “I just don’t know where, specifically.”
And without his phone number, I can’t find out. Considering the complicated things we need to discuss, not getting his number was a definite oversight. Especially now that regret and panic are setting in about the whole fake boyfriend thing.
What was I thinking?!?!
All I know is that I miss him. Which is totally ridiculous given the limited amount of time we’ve spent together. Does this afternoon somehow count as trauma bonding or something? Because I feel like I’m in Collin Graham withdrawal, and my head is less clear than it was before I left him.
“You know,” Wolf says, stroking his mustache like a cartoon villain. The twinkle in his eye—and the chaps—make it funny, not threatening. I’m not sure how much wax or product he has in his mustache, but it doesn’t lose shape as he touches it. “I’m headed to my bar now, if you want to hitch a lift.”
“You want to take me to your bar?” I know I sound dubious—and I am—but I’m equally intrigued. I didn’t ask so I wouldn’t appear rude, but this guyownsa bar?
Wolf studies me. “You and Collin must be a very new thing.”
“We … are. I mean, we’ve been mostly long-distance. Until now.” I wish I could call upon my acting skills to save me from my fumbling. If I can pretend to be a whole other person, I should be able to lie better.
But as today has proved, my lies are just shovels digging a deeper hole for me to fall into.
“Well, the Grahams just so happen to spend a lot of time at my bar. You might just find them there.”
I shouldn’t be considering this offer. Not when it comes from a stranger wearing chaps and little else.
