Conviction (Consolation Duet #2)(82)

It was the kiss heard ‘round the world. Well, ‘round the bar, anyway.

Other than a few audible gasps at seeing Angel’s pink tongue dart out of her mouth, Dive was completely silent as she flicked my upper lip before pulling away. The two guys before us each wore amused grins that screamed of lustful possibilities.

“Oh, hell yeah!” Craig exclaimed, breaking the deafening silence and smacking Blaine’s chest with the back of his hand. “Lesbians! Now that explains it!”

“How are you, baby?” Angel cooed, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear while gazing at me adoringly.

I matched her soft smile and placed my hands on her narrow waist. “Better now that you’re here.”

“Wow! Can you believe this, B?” Craig still rambled excitedly.

I turned back around on my barstool to assess Blaine’s reaction, which was unreadable if not indifferent. Good. Better for him, and everyone else, to see that there’s no chance with me. Not that I thought he was thinking that.

“Can I ask you ladies a question?” Craig chimed in. For once since meeting him twenty minutes before, I was glad for his intrusion. I had to stop looking at Blaine. I had to stop giving him the impression that I was interested. Because I wasn’t. I couldn’t be.

“Sure!” Angel piped up, sliding her arm around my shoulders and leaning into me.

Craig took a hefty gulp of beer and cleared his throat before leaning closer. “Ok. I know you gals are gay, and all, but lez-be-honest . . . you gotta miss that full, thrusting feeling,” he snickered in a mock whisper.

“CJ, dude!” Blaine scoffed, smacking him upside the head.

“Ever been with a guy?” Craig continued, ignoring Blaine’s pleas to knock it off. “Because I’d love to be the meat in your sandwich.”

With that, Angel and I rolled our eyes before making our way to an empty table. Blaine was still scolding Craig for his comments, and I honestly had to refrain from laughing. Craig was certainly an asshat, but I had to give it to him-he was a funny asshat.

“So what happened?” Angel asked once we were settled.

I shrugged and looked down at the table, digging my fingernail into a nick in the tabletop. “Same thing that always happens. I hurt him, he cried, then I came here.”

“He cried?” Angel grasped my hand, her sparkly black fingernails a drastic contrast to her pale complexion. “You wanna talk about it, babe?”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. I hated that part of the game. Each time, I told myself I wouldn’t get involved-that I would be better off without the trouble. Yet, each time, I somehow let myself break the rules. Then came the pain.

Before I could delve deeper into my own self-inflicted misery, Blaine strolled up, giving me a clear view of the rest of his body. Worn blue jeans hung from his hips in that way that showed off his chiseled frame without being too tight. His plain white tee clung to his torso and, if I looked closely, I could see the outline of eight perfectly hard mounds, comprising his midsection. And, I could tell that there was more ink, arousing my interest even more. I forced my eyes back up to his, silently cursing myself.

“Hey ladies, sorry about my cousin. He was dropped a lot as a baby,” he said with a smile before crossing his arms in front of him and leaning against a nearby table. The movement caused those luscious biceps to bulge and, once again, that lucky-ass t-shirt stretched.

“Oh wow, you’re related to that tool?” Angel snickered. “My sincere apologies.”

“He’s an ass, but he’s harmless,” Blaine replied with a one-shouldered shrug and a crooked grin. The combination was incredibly adorable, and I had to squelch a rising swoony sigh. “So is there anything else I can get you ladies?”

As always, Angel commanded attention. “Well, handsome, we will have two shots of tequila to start.” She peered at my melancholy expression through dramatically long eyelashes. “Actually, make that four shots. Maybe I’ll get lucky,” she winked.

Blaine smirked knowingly before scraping his bottom lip with his teeth. Something inside me clenched. “Was I right?” he asked, suddenly directing his attention to me.

I frowned, completely caught off guard. “Huh?”

He uncrossed his arms and took a step forward, causing me to take in a sharp breath. “About your nationality. I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Um uh . . .” I stammered. I wasn’t entirely sure why I had suddenly lost my train of thought, but all I could focus on was that pesky lock of hair that was slowly easing its way from outside of his ball cap once more.

“Oh, Kami’s nationality?” Angel piped up, her eyes darting between Blaine and me questioningly. “Her mom’s from the Philippines.”

With his eyes never straying from mine, Blaine smiled crookedly and nodded. Then he turned away from the table, stealing my breath and taking it with him back to the bar to retrieve our shots.

“What the f*ck was that about?” Angel squeaked in her high-pitched soprano. The crude comment was a direct contrast to her bell-chime tone.

After regaining the usage of limbs and brain function, I turned to Angel. “Nothing. He and his cousin were trying to figure out what I was.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that . . . I’m talking about the obvious Take me, take me now stares. I mean, seriously, did it just get hot in here or what? I thought he was about to ask you to grab your ankles!”