Foreplay (The Ivy Chronicles #1)(17)

Digging in my heels, I looked back at her. “I don’t want to do this.”

“What? Why—”

I stepped closer and spoke into her ear so she could hear me over the din. “It’s just not my MO to chase after a guy. I’m sure he gets that I’m interested by now. If he’s such a player, why am I doing all the chasing?”

Emerson turned her mouth to my ear. “He just hasn’t had an opportunity yet. He’s been stuck behind that bar. With guys it’s all about opportunity. So give him an opportunity.”

Shaking my head, I resisted telling her that if a guy really likes a girl he creates an opportunity. But then what did I know? Apparently nothing. Why else would I be here on a mission to learn foreplay from a hot stranger?

I slapped the money back into her hand. “You do it. I’ll stand behind you so he can see me, but I’m not standing in front of him for a third night. I might as well have a sign around my neck. I think he gets the hint.” I flashed her a warning look. “And do not embarrass me again.”

Rolling her eyes, she took the money. “Fine.” She pushed to the front, getting there faster than I ever could. I couldn’t help noticing how much she used her elbows. I’m sure she never dropped a pitcher.

I hung back as Emerson leaned against the bar, holding up her money, the universal sign that she needed service. A few moments passed before he turned his attention her way.

When he saw it was her, his gaze skipped around, like he was looking for someone. My breath locked in my windpipe as his gaze landed on me. It was a split second, just enough to register my presence. Nothing more. No sign that he even remembered me.

He looked back at Emerson, inclining his head, communicating for her to go ahead and order. She waved her hands, obviously talking. She always talked with her hands.

Nodding, he turned to fetch the beer. I waited for his return, my breathing irregular. He handed her the pitchers, took her money, and returned her change. All without looking at me.

Disappointment flashed through me. I’d thought I’d get another glance, and then . . .

I exhaled. I didn’t know what then. I dragged a hand through my hair. My fingers caught in the thick mass, and I gave up, pulling my fingers free.

I didn’t know what I was doing here. Trying to be something I wasn’t so I could catch Hunter’s notice? I was kidding myself. If he hadn’t noticed me in all these years, why would that change now?

By the time Emerson reached me, I was feeling more foolish than ever before. And she must have seen some of what I was feeling on my face.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded.

I shook my head. “This is just crazy. I really don’t want to be here. Not again. I’m gonna head back—”

“Aw, Pepper, c’mon.” She stomped her foot, her pert features screwing tight in frustration. “Don’t go.”

“You stay. Ride back with Suzanne.” I edged backward in the crowd. A curse rang in my ear as I stepped on someone’s foot.

“Wait. I’ll go with you.” She looked around, searching for somewhere to leave the pitchers she held.

“No. It’s okay, really. I have a statistics exam on Monday anyway. I should go, and don’t give me that look. This is more than I’ve gone out in like . . . ever.”

She blew out a breath, nodding. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll see you later.”

I fluttered my fingers in a little wave and turned, pushing my way through the squeeze of bodies until I was outside. I lifted my face to the crisp fall air and sucked in a breath like I’d just emerged from a deep icy pool.

Walking through the parking lot, the soles of my boots crunched over the loose gravel. I almost turned back around when I remembered the burger I had wanted. Instead, I continued walking, thinking which drive-through I wanted to hit on the way back to the dorm. I was contemplating chicken strips and Tater Tots when a hand fell on my shoulder.

With a shriek, I whirled around, my fist instinctively flying, lashing out, making contact. My knuckles grazed off a shoulder.

“Whoa. Easy there.” Reece stood there, holding one hand up in the air while his other hand rubbed at the top of his shoulder where I’d struck him.

I covered my mouth with both hands. My words escaped muffled. “OhmyGod! I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I should have called out. Good reflexes. But you should work on your aim.”

My hands fell from my face slowly.

I stared at him, still trying to comprehend that he was here. In front of me. It was strange seeing him out of his element. Other than that first time, I’d only ever seen him inside Mulvaney’s. Here, outside, he seemed bigger, larger than life.

My head cocked to the side. “Are you”—I waved a finger between him and me —“following me?”

“I saw you leave.”

“So. That’s a yes.”

He was watching me? He noticed me. I wasn’t invisible after all.

He continued, “Look, you shouldn’t be out here alone at night. Guys get a few drinks in them, see a pretty girl walking by herself . . .” His voice faded away, his implication clear.

I only heard one thing. Pretty.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” he finished.

“Thanks.” I turned in the direction of my car. He fell in step beside me.