Gentleman Nine(20)
“Oh, boy.” I laughed. This sounded crazy but kind of fun at the same time. “I guess I should take advantage of the opportunity to practice with a true expert.” When he suddenly got up, I asked, “Where are you going?”
“I need to enter the bar, pretend like I’m just meeting you.” He winked. “Just wing it, alright?”
“Alright.” I took a long sip of my drink.
Channing exited the building then reentered.
He was apparently not fooling around. He actually went to the bar and ordered a beer before his head slowly turned toward me. When his gaze met mine, his mouth curled into a sly smile. I covered my mouth in laughter before he gave me a scolding look with his eyes. He was silently reprimanding me for not taking this seriously. It was in that moment that I vowed to get my shit together and actually play along.
The only problem was, I couldn’t stop laughing and worse: I got the hiccups. Whenever I laughed really hard, I would always get the worst case of them. Channing was cracking up now, too, because he remembered my hiccup issue. It used to happen to me all of the time when we were younger.
When the laughter died down, the sexy smirk returned to Channing’s face as he once again moved into character, playing the role of my mysterious suitor.
Flirtatiously twirling my hair with my index finger, I returned his smile.
When he began to walk toward me, I actually got goosebumps. My physical reaction was no different than if this was actually happening.
“Are you alone?” he asked.
My heartbeat sped up. “Yes.”
“Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.”
He pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’m Channing.” He held out his hand, and when I took it, his touch felt electric. My nipples hardened. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.
“My name is Amber.” Hiccup.
“Well, excuse you. You okay there?”
“Yeah, I just get the hiccups when I laugh too hard. You made me laugh earlier.”
“Is that so?” His tone was so flirtatious.
“Yeah.”
“You know, I used to have a friend who hiccuped whenever she laughed too hard. You know what I would do to her?”
“What?”
“I would scare the living daylights out of her when she least expected it. That’s supposed to make them go away.”
“Please don’t do that to me,” I said seriously. It used to annoy me when he’d startle me.
“Well, what’s a beautiful, hiccuping girl like yourself doing alone in a bar anyway?”
“Just relaxing, having a drink.”
Over the course of the next thirty minutes, Channing stayed in character, asking me question after question about my job and personal interests—as if we were meeting each other for the very first time. Honestly, it was freaky how real it felt. I found myself getting lost in the experience, almost forgetting who we were and the purpose of the skit. He was so engaging and easy to talk to. Something told me that this wasn’t exactly how it would be with most guys I’d pick up in a bar. I wasn’t going to admit this to him, but if this were real, I’d be totally sold on him right now.
My hiccups still hadn’t waned, though. At one point mid-conversation, Channing grabbed my glass of water and drank a sip before suddenly splashing it in my face. The surprise impact of the water hitting my skin caused a rush of adrenaline.
Drenched, I yelled, “What was that for?”
“For your hiccups!”
Wiping my face with a napkin, I said, “I told you not to scare me.”
“I bet they go away now, though.”
“Sure…now that I look like a drowned rat.”
“No, you don’t. You look beautiful.”
After that comment, it was necessary to remind myself that he was still in character.
Sure enough, the hiccups never returned as we continued our little roleplay game. Channing gradually pushed his chair nearer to me. His face was close to mine whenever he spoke. I could smell the beer on his tongue mixed with his cologne. There was likely no sexier scent on Earth than the combination of those two things. I was trying to ignore the fact that my panties were wet just from the closeness of his body and from the feel of his breath on my face. That made me realize how hard-up I was.
God.
After several minutes of talking, he leaned in and spoke directly in my ear, “I’m not far from the bar at all. How about we get out of here. Go back to my place.” His lips actually touched my skin, and his breath felt like it travelled through my ear canal and down to my vagina. It nearly did me in. This game was starting to play serious tricks on me. The urge to lean in, grab him by his hat, and bring him to my lips was enormous.
My heart started to pound. What would have happened if I said yes? Would I really go to his apartment—well, actually, my place?
Would the game continue beyond the bar?
Would we roleplay our way all the way into his bedroom?
Wishful thinking, maybe.
Finally, I answered him, “I would love to.”
Channing just kept staring at me. He was stuck. I’d totally stumped him.
He suddenly fell out of character and flashed me a look of warning. “You wouldn’t actually respond that way, would you?”
If we weren’t us, and you were you? I probably would.