Page 6 of Entangled

Present Day

I’m in the midst of sipping down the last dregs of my now watery vodka soda when the tempting bartender reappears from the back with my burger in hand. I keep my elbows on the bar and lips lowered to the straw, watching with narrowed eyes as he swaggers toward me, the easy confidence in his stride screaming that he’s all kinds of trouble.

He sets my plate in front of me with a flourish and a grin, flashing those dimples. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, lips still around my straw.

He stares at me with an amused expression for a moment before flashing those dimples again and swaggering down to the other end of the bar, greeting a few people who’ve arrived in his absence.

What the hell kind of bartender is actually that cheery? The only bartenders in LA that are that cheerful are either coked up or baked. But considering the fact that he’s not talking at a hundred words per minute and that he hasn’t fucked up my order up to this point I’m guessing he’s neither. That only leaves two options. He’s either one of those people who shits unicorns or he’s trying to get in my pants. And from the spark I’ve seen in his eyes when he looks at me… I’d bet a whole hell of a lot on it being the latter.

I turn to my plate with a sigh of frustration and begin to pick at my fries. My mood circling the drain right along with my appetite as I try to ignore his presence at the other end of the bar.

Normal me, or normal for me, me. A year ago me. Well, that girl would have been totally on board with the idea of spending some time between the sheets with the tempting bartender. I mean, the guy is rocking a sexy man bun and that ink flowing up his right arm is just plain lickable. The problem is… well, the problem ishim.

And my self-imposed celibacy.

I tried. I really did try to move on like a normal person. About six months after I left that beach in Costa Rica, a more than respectable amount of time to wait before forcing yourself to move on in my opinion. I tried to sleep with this guy I met in Norway, Joaquin.

Joaquin should have been the answer. He was good-looking with an accent, had brown eyes and was nice in a rich party boy kind of way. Pretty much everything about Joaquin was the polar opposite ofhim. I should have been jumping at the chance to get under his foreign body and put the past to rest. But much to both mine and Juaquin’s horror, after numerous shots and a hot and heavy car ride back to his place… Well, I ended up in my bra and panties, sobbing over him in his bed and blubbering on about stars and oceans.

I woke up the next morning after that decidedly mortifying night and decided two things. One, me and the guys were getting the hell out of Norway, and two, my vagina was officially shut down. Indefinitely.

That’s what you get for falling in love, El.

I really should’ve known better. Like… really.

All of which was why I was now avoiding the bartender like he was a rattlesnake as opposed to a man. I couldn’t afford to have another semi-naked breakdown before I got what I came here for. Or well, ever. Breakdowns just really weren’t my style… and neither was self-pity or cowardice, for that matter. My brows drop at the thought and I allow myself to sneak a peek toward the other end of the bar.

Screw it.

I definitely needed another drink before going back to Gram’s house tonight, and at the very least my year of celibacy had earned me some eye candy to go along with that drink. Who knows, maybe the bartender was so cheery because he really was magical. He was the first guy to really spark something in me since he who shall not be named and at this point, my vagina was growing cobwebs.

I could just pretend his eyes were brown.

Problem solved.

Raising my empty drink, I catch his eye from where he stands chatting with customers at the other end of the bar and earn a nod of understanding along with a slight lift of his lips. I take advantage of my view and his distraction to skate my eyes down his body to where his faded jeans sit low on his hips, totally checking him out. He reaches up to grab a bottle from the top shelf and his shirt lifts just enough for me to see that slice of skin above his jeans. Dear Lord, I didn’t thinkVcuts like that existed in real life. My stomach gives a little flutter right before his shirt drops down and I jerk my eyes back up to find his amused gaze on me. I see him hide a grin before swaggering back toward me, bottle in hand.

“I thought I’d break out the good stuff for an out-of-towner such as yourself.” He comes to a stop in front of me with eyes full of mischief and places a bottle of Belvedere on the counter. “Unless something else caught your eye, that is?”

Tilting my head to the side, I cock a brow and pause in purposeful consideration. “To be decided,” I quip.

He braces his hands on the bar, leaning in toward me. “I always have loved the satisfaction of a hard win.”

Our eyes lock and playful energy winds through the air between us, making me feel lighter than I have in a long while. I lose the fight against the twitch of my lips and shake my head in reluctant amusement.

“Fine.” I nod at him. “But if I’m drinking the nice stuff, so are you. So pour two.”

“Done.” He grabs two shot glasses from below the counter and pours the vodka for us.

“So tell me.” I bring the vodka shot to my lips and throw it back before continuing. “What gave me away as being an out-of-towner?”

“You mean, besides the fact that I know the first and last name of every girl I’ve gone to school with since kindergarten?” He lifts his own shot to his lips and follows my lead in throwing back the whole thing.

“Yeah, besides that,” I drawl sarcastically, rolling my eyes and using an elbow on the bar to prop my head up in my hand.

“Well.” He braces his hands on the bar again and leans in toward me. Creating an intimate atmosphere despite the fact that the bar is beginning to fill up. “No one around here has quite the same look in their eyes as you do. We’re all pretty friendly, have known each other practically since birth, but you…”

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