Page 18 of Don't Call Me Sweetheart

“Hey.” Luke was back. “Want another?”

“Maybe.” I glanced up at him from beneath my mascaraed eyelashes, hoping I looked sultry and not tired, and tried to find the straw with my tongue. I succeeded only in stabbing myself in the cheek. Sexy.

Luke handed me a napkin. “Are you okay?” His brows knit as he looked at me more closely. “You’re not drunk, are you? I only put half a shot of vodka in.”

I grimaced. I wasn’t drunk. Not even tipsy. I was just very, very bad at flirting apparently. “No, I’m not drunk, and yes, I’ll have another. Thank you.”

“And for you?” Luke asked.

I froze, the skin on my neck tingling. Because, with a premonition that made a kaleidoscope of butterflies take flight in my stomach, I knew exactly whose voice would answer.

“A beer, something local and on tap. Surprise me.” And then, “Hello, Kate.” There was the slightest tinge of irony as he said my name.

I turned slowly on my stool. And there he was, looking dangerous and dorky all at once in a gray sweater with leather elbow patches and a dark shadow of unshaven scruff along his jaw. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, increasing my agitation. He had no right to look so hot doing something so stereotypically nerdy. My throat felt dry.

“Max.”

Chapter 8

Max

It was her. Again. Always her.

It was the third time I had not expected Kate, and I was beginning to think I simply never would. I had not expected her that first night in Goat’s Tavern. I had not expected her to be waiting for me in my office. And I sure as hell had not expected her tonight, smiling at the bartender. Looking like that.

I felt sucker punched.

Personally victimized by the bare skin of her shoulder and the pretty line of her collarbone.

She is the mother of a student, I reminded myself sternly. That student might even be here tonight, ready to reappear at any second and catch me in the very un-principal-like act of salivating over her mother’s shoulder.

“Where is Jessica?” I asked, with a quick glance behind me to make sure she wasn’t standing there already.

Kate’s eyes narrowed on me. “At a friend’s house.”

I blinked at the sudden defensiveness in her tone. “Okay.”

“I am allowed to have a drink at a bar, even though I’m a mom. I’m allowed to have fun.”

“Right,” I agreed, because she seemed to be under the impression that we were having an argument.

“Did you think I should just stay home and sulk when Jessica is out with her friends?” she demanded.

“That didn’t even occur to me.”

“Then what did occur to you?”

I pushed my glasses up and frowned at her. “It occurred to me that Jessica might be here tonight, with you, in the same room where I also happen to be. And I didn’t know how I was going to get through it pretending I’m not attracted to you.”

“I—what?”

“You heard me.”

“You’re…attracted to me?” She said it like she couldn’t quite believe it.

I blew out an exasperated sigh. “Come on, Kate. I took you back to my room the first night we met. Obviously, I’m attracted to you. Wait.” A terrible idea occurred to me. “Are you not attracted to me?”

Vibrant pink bloomed on her cheeks. “No.”

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