Worth It (Forbidden Men, #6)(53)

When she wiggled her eyebrows, letting me know she’d had one too many to drink, I snorted out a laugh. Aspen was adorable and hilarious when she drank.

She leaned into me and whispered loudly, “I think you should ask him if you can ride his disco stick. You know, to help you repound from Cameron.”

I snorted and slapped a hand over my mouth. “You mean, rebound?”

“Tha’s what I said.” Her brow crinkled with confusion. “Wasn’t it?”

“Sure,” I murmured, since repound seemed just as apt a term for what she was talking about.

“So?” She went back to nudging my elbow. “What do you think of him?”

I reluctantly returned my gaze to the new guy. He was half turned away this time. From the side profile, something about him rang strangely familiar, and it sent a zinger I wasn’t expecting through all my girly parts. I blinked, wondering where the heck that had come from. Then he turned fully away, and the bulkiness and breadth of his shoulders brought back a complete stranger’s profile, which knocked some reality back into me.

He really was a massive work of perfection, but I felt uncomfortable by the unexpected way just looking at him had made my body react. Guilt bit at my conscience because I’d only ever experienced such an instant physical craving for one other person in my life. So I said, “Meh. Too dark and brooding for my taste.”

“I don’t know.” Aspen chewed on her straw as she watched him. “I think there’s something hot about it. Like you just want to soothe his tortured soul.”

I snorted. “And what’s up with the overly tight T-shirt?” Okay, now I was just trying to find details to nitpick since I was done with men forever and ever, and maybe because I really didn’t like the way I kept envisioning myself ripping that tight T-shirt off him and just sinking my claws into his pecs before licking them. “I mean, yes, you’re built, buddy. We get it.”

As Aspen snorted out a laugh, the new bartender turned his head just enough to the side, as if listening in on something...like our conversation.

I gulped and flinched back, even though there was no possible way he could’ve heard me in this loud, crowded place all the way at the other end of the counter. Could he?

I decided to quit bashing him, even though man bashing had felt fun. But he was a stranger—not Cam—and he hadn’t done anything to deserve my scorn.

“I think I’ll leave his disco stick alone,” I told Aspen.

“Okay, whatever.” She shrugged, letting me know it didn’t matter to her. “I’m just saying, if he was good enough for Pick to hire, he can’t be half bad.” Then she sucked down the last of her drink.

Noel appeared in front of us and took Aspen’s drink away. “That’s it, ladies. No more alcohol for either of you. The bar’s about to close, anyway. And just so you know, you’re both riding back to the house with me. We’ll pick up whoever’s car you drove here in the morning.”

“Mine,” I said, lifting my hand.

He snorted. “Then it’ll be fine. No one would even think about bothering that hunk of junk.”

“Hey, that’s my baby you’re offending.” Even though he was right, it was the crappiest car ever. At least it got me where I wanted to go...most of the time.

“Oh, God.” Aspen moaned and slapped a hand over her mouth. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Shit.” Noel leapt over the bar and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I knew I should’ve cut you off sooner. Come on, baby. I’ll help you to the bathroom.” As he gently led her away, I sighed after them, jealous of their relationship. With a little moan of depression, I flopped my forehead onto the bar and tried to will my life to a better place.

When I reminded myself I wasn’t puking my guts out like my best buddy, I felt better. My life could be worse. But then I felt shitty because I shouldn’t be smug that I wasn’t sick and Aspen was. I didn’t realize I was still holding on to my empty glass until someone tried to ease it out of my hand.

“Oh! Sorry.” I sat up, releasing my grip. But the new bartender had already turned away and was walking off with my empty cup. I stared after him, curious, wondering how Pick had found him and what his story was. Then I wondered if he talked. I hadn’t heard him talk once tonight, had I?

I swear he had the slightest bit of a limp when he moved a certain way. It tugged at my inner healer until I could picture me running my hands up his strong, thick thighs and kissing them all better again.

And...what the hell? Why did I keep having these overly sexual thoughts about a complete stranger? I never had—crap! Had someone put something in one of my drinks? Maybe I’d been roofied.

But, no. That made no sense. Noel had served me all my drinks, and besides, no one had tried to take advantage of me.

“Hey, Felicity,” Mason called from across the bar. I glanced over and was shocked to see the place was empty, and the guys had already cleaned up.

When the hell had they done that?

God, just how out of it was I?

“Huh?” I called, waving at him and realizing I had been listening to Asher singing in the background of my consciousness. He always sang after hours during cleanup, which really should’ve clued me in to what had been going on around me.

“I’m taking off,” Mason told me, “but uh, there’s some lady outside, says she knows you.”