Page 83 of Undressed In The Crease

Then he orders two more, as he winks at the bartender.

I roll my eyes and sit down on the stool next to him. He is totally eye fucking the girl right in front of me.

Unbelievable.

“Are you going to do this shot with me, Lenny Briggs?” He passes me the glass. “Nothing’s going to happen Lenny, we came in two separate cars with two separate drivers. Both of which are trying to set us up like a happy little couple.”

I take the shot from him, clink his glass, and down it in one gulp before waiting for him. I gag from the sweet tequila burning down my throat.

“Neither one of us will be like that.” He points to Layla and Greg.

“Speak for yourself.” I’m starting to feel the confidence from the slight buzz I have going on.

“I am, and I know you. I know your drive, your passion, and fuck is it good. But it’s your independence. Them over there, and the two over that way.” Nick points to another couple at the end of the bar sucking on each other’s faces. “Those kinds of couples are dependent on each other. They hate being alone. They don’t function without someone else to hang onto. That’s not you. It’s not me either.”

He ordered two more shots, with a lime wedge for me this time.

We say a silent toast and down our shots. I suck on the lime so the tequila goes down a bit smoother.

“I can be in a relationship. I’m independent, but I’m not loveless.” I point at his solid chest and brush my hand over it before letting it fall to my side.

Nick smirks at my touch.

“I never said loveless or that you couldn’t be in a relationship. I just meant not like that.” He waves his arm out and scrunches his face up, disgusted at what he sees. “They’re clingy.”

“Oh please. You love clingy.” I stand up with one hand on my hip and the other braced against Nick’s shoulder.

I should walk back to the table, but the floor feels uneven.

Shit, and now I’m drunk.

“You love all those girls hanging all over you, clinging to you. Don’t even lie.” I continue, ignoring the feel of his muscles beneath my hand. Seriously, who has shoulder muscles?

Nick stands up, towering over me. We’re only a mere inch apart. He places his hand on my hip as he leans down to speak.

“Wrong. I don’t love it. I tolerate it because I like to get laid.” He shrugs. “But, what I love? Is a challenge. What I crave? Is passion.”

Desire clouds his eyes. The heat radiating off of him is too much. My heart is racing. His words from the other night about how he“craves”me are ringing in my foggy head.

I want him to kiss me.

The car ride here I talked to Layla about how him and me is a bad idea. I texted him about going on a date thinking he’d back off.

I didn’t know he’d get jealous.

She should have told me he was going to be here. I think she hinted at it. She kept asking if we could be just friends, no benefits, and my response was of course we could. I like hanging out with him, and talking to him. I saw the pleading look on Layla’s face when she passed me her keys. She knows I can’t drive, but it was her grabbing my attention and begging me to stop and just be friends. To not ruin whatever, she and Greg have.

I can be just friends with Nick, right? He’s wrong. I can resist him.

But the foggy feeling from all those shots, I lost count, three? Four?

His proximity and teasing. God, this man is evil. When Nick Miller says let’s get drunk, boy do you get drunk.

Fuck me.

I feel his hot breath on my skin. We’re pushed closer together by the busy bar. People crowd around us to watch the playoff game and order more drinks from the bartender.

Nick pulls me in closer, his hands gripping my hip as someone tries to squeeze in behind me.

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