Page 163 of Girl Abroad

Me: All right. I’ll be there at 11.

49

AT ELEVEN O’CLOCK SHARP, IWALK INTO THE BAR AND FINDNATEstill working behind the long counter. He’s in a snug black T-shirt, dark locks of hair falling onto his forehead as he concentrates on mixing a drink. As always, my heart speeds up, because I’m a complete and utter goner when it comes to this man.

At the sight of me, his eyes flicker with pleasure, then regret as he explains that the other bartender was a no-show, which means Nate has to stay for another hour.

“It’s all right,” I assure him, hopping up on a stool. “We can chat while you work. Pour me something yummy?”

“You got it.” He returns a moment later and hands me a glass of wine with a raspberry on top.

“Thanks.”

“You look good,” he says, mixing drinks as he talks.

I smile wryly. “Is that your way of saying it’s been a while and you’d almost forgotten what I looked like?”

Nate just winks and pours a line of shots for another customer.

Watching him work is fascinating. He’s not one of those bartenders who flings bottles and shakers around, chatting up the crowd and hamming it up for tips. Or maybe that’s not a British thing. Either way, his slightly aloof demeanor attracts a crowd of admirers, women throwing themselves against the bar to get his attention.

Seeing it does strike certain chords inside me. It reminds me why I’d been in knots from the moment I saw him on that stage. How quickly I lost my mind the first time I got on the back of his bike and wrapped my arms around him while we sped through the streets of London.

A curvy woman elbows her way in beside me. She’s wearing too much makeup and her boobs are hanging out. She tries her hardest to flirt with him as Nate watches me attempt to not look annoyed, grinning like a cocky bastard.

“Point taken,” I tell him once he’s served her drink and sent her off.

“Didn’t say a word.”

Cheeky Nate does terrible things to my body. Accelerates my pulse and sends a tickle between my legs.

“So you called this meeting,” I remind him, forcing my head out of the gutter. “What did you want to talk about?”

Nate speaks over his shoulder while ringing up credit cards. “Budapest.”

“Like the city?”

“Exactly like the city.”

“Not my area of expertise, I’m afraid.”

He returns to lean against the bar as I take a sip of my wine.

“This wine is good,” I say, running my tongue over my bottom lip to lick off a lingering drop. “Really good.”

His gaze heats as it tracks the movement of my tongue. “It’s my favorite one we sell. Nobody ever orders it because it’s also the cheapest and these assholes think the price tag has anything to do with how it tastes.”

“So Budapest,” I repeat. “Any particular reason?”

Nate tips his head in that sexy way he does. “Want to go?”

I blink. “Tonight?”

“I mean, if you’re game, I was thinking next week. That’s your break from school, yeah?”

Holy déjà vu.

If I was the suspicious type, I’d think these guys planned this. Conspiring to test my affections.

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