Crazy Stupid Love (Crazy Love #1)(3)
His deep gray eyes study me for a long moment, the air so thick between us I feel like I might suffocate under the weight. I open my mouth, feeling like I need to say something. Before I can even muster up the courage to speak he breaks the connection, turning his eyes forward as he pushes away from the bike and heads back inside the bar.
I sit glued to the sidewalk for several long seconds before reality seems to resurface. What was that all about? Trying to shake off the feeling the sexy stranger has left me with, I decide it’s time get back inside and find my friends so I can get the hell out of here.
The moment I re-enter Deviants, I head straight towards the dance floor catching the eyes of Harlee as I approach who throws her hands up in excitement at the sight of me.
“It’s about time, bitch!” she slurs, wrapping an arm around the back of my neck.
“Can we go?” I push up on my tiptoes and yell into her ear over the music pounding from the speakers just feet from us.
“Why?” She pulls back and hits me with sad puppy dog eyes.
While Harlee may be a bit of a wild child, she also has a huge heart. I know if I insist on leaving, she will agree; even if it is reluctantly. She’s gone way out of her way to make me feel welcome and to include me, and I know she wouldn’t go through the trouble if she didn’t care.
“It’s nearly midnight,” I shout, tapping my wrist to indicate the time.
“Thirty more minutes,” she mouths, pouting out her lip for good measure.
Not wanting to be the person who ruins her good time, I sigh and nod, knowing that if I want any chance at reinventing myself, I’m going to have to suck it up every now and again and deal with situations I don’t want to be in. I never dreamed how different life would be in Oregon versus West Virginia. It’s almost like living on a different planet entirely.
A wide smile cracks across her pretty face, and she pulls me into a tight hug, causing me to have to turn my head to avoid my face going directly into her chest. Harlee towers over me, standing around 5’9” which puts her about a full head taller than me.
Managing to squiggle out of her grasp, I point towards the bar, mouthing that I’m going to be there. She nods and then spins towards Angel, throwing her hands up above her head as she resumes bouncing around the dance floor.
I keep my gaze down as I cross towards the sleek glass bar that stretches almost the entire length of the left side wall, purposely wanting to avoid another encounter with the gray eyes that still have my stomach twisted in all sorts of knots.
I slide into the first open stool I can find, which happens to be squeezed between a large bald man and an older woman clearly trying to appear younger than she actually is. I wave my hand trying to catch the attention of the bartender who appears to be looking in every direction but mine.
He crosses the length of the bar sliding drinks to various customers as he goes. I can’t help but be impressed by his skills. It’s almost like he was bred to tend bar, as ridiculous as that sounds.
He’s an attractive man: dark hair that’s shaved underneath and a little longer on top, wearing ripped jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clings to his clearly muscular body, and just the right amount of facial hair covering his handsome face; pretty much the exact opposite of my type. The type I usually date anyway; well the one I dated.
I guess considering I have only ever dated Garrett, I can’t say I really have a usual type. Just the type my parents’ deemed acceptable. I guess that’s why I spent three years of my life dating a man I’m not even sure I liked.
I make one more attempt to snag the bartender’s attention before finally settling back into my stool, deciding to wait until he comes my way to ask for a glass of water. Pulling my cell phone out of the small purse draped over my shoulder, I unlock the screen and double check my messages, sighing loudly when I see Garrett has called twice despite the fact that I have asked him repeatedly to give me some time.
Locking the phone I shove it forcefully back into my bag, not feeling up to dealing with his antics at the present moment.
“Let me guess, your boyfriend is upset that you’re out with friends.” A smooth deep voice pulls my attention forward.
I freeze the moment my eyes lock on the gray ones that held me so completely captive outside just a few short minutes ago. I take in a ragged inhale, not prepared for how incredible he looks looming just across the bar from me.
I knew he was attractive, but seeing him like this— shrouded under the dim lights— he’s more than just another handsome face. There is something so haunted behind those incredible eyes.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this man is trouble. It seeps from his very pores like an invisible warning label. He’s exactly the type of man I know with complete certainty would break any girl who was foolish enough to offer him her heart.
“I... Um...” I stutter over my words, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” I breathe, the words barely audible over the loud music and busy chatter of the crowd.
“No?” He cocks his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in on my face. “Surprising.” He sets an empty glass in front of me, proceeding to fill it with ice and then water.
“How did you...” I start, but he doesn’t allow me to finish.
“You’ve been drinking virgin daiquiris all night, and from what I can tell, you’re dying to get the hell out of here. I took a guess.” He gestures to the water.