Page 5 of Unsure in Love

The night I met him, I was so intrigued that I spent hours playing a lone game of Guess Who Damian Is? He had the look of someone who might be called President of a motorcycle gang. However, Nic said Damian was ex-military, so maybe he wasn’t a biker. I assumed that his strong, silent demeanor was a military thing. It bothered me that I was still obsessed with him.

My inexplicable fixation on Damian aside, he was a man I’d appreciate a one-night fling with. He looked like he could make me forget all about my problems. One night, that’s it. After that, I bet I’d be over his strong, silent charm.

“Cass?”

My eyes snapped back to Marco’s face. I’d completely zoned out of our conversation and had to wrack my brain for what he last said.

“I’m especially interested in one.”

If only I could return the interest. He seemed like a great guy, but I wasn’t attracted to him. During our first interaction, he expressed interest, and I’d actually waited for the spark of attraction. However, it never came. Because Marco was such a cool guy and I liked him, I waited for the spark to appear a few times again after. Still, nothing. The only person I felt the spark with was Latin L—

Damn it.

I wasn’t happy that Damian kept creeping into my thoughts. He was probably back in New York, whispering sweet nothings in Spanish in his lover’s ear. The thought made me jealous, and I was officially convinced that I’d lost my mind. Jealousy over a guy was never my thing. How long would the mysterious Damian occupy my thoughts?

I studied Marco for a moment. “Are you coming on to me for bigger tips, Marco?” I joked.

Humor was always my method of thwarting his flirting without being rude. He was obviously disappointed but played it off with a little laugh. I bet he wasn’t accustomed to being turned down time after time.

“Hey, it was worth a try,” he murmured. Giving me a small smile, he moved on to serve another customer.

My phone buzzed on the bar where I’d haphazardly thrown it down. It had to be one of my sisters, asking where I was. I ignored the many message alerts. Sighing heavily, I threw back my drink and slammed the glass down.

“Marco, another.”

He turned around to look at me with amusement. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to your usual?”

The fruity concoctions? Hell no. I wanted the strong stuff. “Go hard or go home, right? I’m not going home.”

He quirked an eyebrow, handed a cocktail to the woman who’d been drooling over him, and sauntered back in my direction. The woman gave me a dirty look, and I shrugged my apology. I’d been stealing his attention all night, and she probably wanted me to disappear.

As I waited for my drink, I felt a strange tingling sensation on my skin, like I was being watched… The awareness wasn’t uncomfortable. The heat on my skin was strangely pleasing. My eyes darted left and right, but I saw no one watching me. I wasn’t drunk yet, so it couldn’t be my mind playing tricks on me.

Marco refilled my glass. “Looks like you have a fan club,” he announced.

I knew it. Someone had eyes on me. I hoped it wasn’t someone from Oakland… or some creepy guy looking to make trouble. Eyebrows snapping together, I followed Marco’s gaze to the other side of the massive semi-circular bar. Four guys had walked up to take seats. They were Nic’s friends from New York who had all played the role of groomsmen. I thought they’d all left Nebraska right after the wedding.

They watched me with curiosity. Of course, they recognized me. The dress was a dead giveaway. Hopefully, none of them would mention to Nic that they saw me in a bar way out of Oakland at this ungodly hour. I didn’t want to have to explain to my older sister what I was doing here. She always went into mom mode. My eyes traveled to the man who, somehow, from a distance, made my skin heat and my heart dance.

Latin Lover.

He sat, seemingly at ease. But I got the impression that despite his relaxed posture, he was on high alert. He held a beer bottle in his hand. Even the way his long fingers wrapped around the bottle was attractive. Ridiculous.

Damian’s gaze was unabashedly steady on me. He didn’t take a peek and look away like the others did. He was bold with his interest, and I liked it. My heart fluttered again, and I felt a flicker of annoyance. Since when did my heart do that?

I’d been having these irritating reactions since I laid eyes on him. Out of a mixture of defiance and potent attraction, I held his gaze. Angling my chin upward, I lifted an eyebrow in challenge. I silently asked: Are you going to sit there and stare at me or are you going to come over and buy me a drink? Maybe after that drink, we could indulge in a little after-hours fun and then I could rightfully call him Latin Lover.

As if he received the message, his lips curved upward at the corners. He had to have had the sexiest smile ever. I could tell he barely smiled because it was only the second one I’d seen in days. Surprisingly, he didn’t get up. Instead, he took a swig from his bottle, all the while holding my gaze as if issuing his own challenge.

I huffed my disappointment. The man was frustratingly mysterious, and I was beyond intrigued. He had me hooked since the rehearsal dinner and that was no easy feat. No man held my interest for longer than five minutes since getting too emotionally involved just wasn’t on my agenda.

Damian still held me in his stare, and he lifted one eyebrow. The guys sitting next to him watched the two of us with silly smirks. Eyes narrowing, I got up. If that was how he wanted to play it, fine. I was never afraid to make the first move. Emptying my glass, I sauntered toward Damian with a little smile.

Then a serious case of nerves kicked in and my steps faltered. That was new. Getting nervous about talking to a guy never happened to me before. Damian was different. I didn’t know what to expect from him. He wasn’t easy to read. The man gave nothing away with his expression, and it was infuriating. Still, my interest in the mysterious creature overrode my anxiety and propelled me forward.

3

DAMIAN

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