Playing It Safe(39)

“Is he here?” I discreetly ask them.

Sarah’s attempt at a low voice fails spectacularly when she yells, “He’s over there talking to some guy, and he’s totally eye f*cking you right now.”

She raises her arm to point in the direction behind me, and I clasp my hand around her wrist to bring it back down. “Dude, what the hell?! Don’t point at him!”

“Julia, he was already looking over here,” Sarah says, defending herself. “Relax, let me buy you a drink.”

Lisette moves aside to make room for me at the bar as Sarah tries to get the bartender’s attention. When he finally notices us, Sarah proceeds to order a round of tequila shots, which Lisette politely declines, leaving me to drink two in quick succession. Nobody put a gun to my head, but you can’t just leave free alcohol lying around. It’s bad luck or something like that. With the effects of the tequila coursing through my veins, making me feel all warm and fluffy—for now, because if I do another two or three of those shots I’ll be feeling all gross and want to vomit—I order myself a beer and plant myself on a barstool. The three of us hang out for a while, chatting it up about nothing in particular. About an hour and another couple of beers later, I’m officially tipsy but not sloppy just yet. It’s that really good stage where I’m not going to get sick, but I’m not feeling any pain either. Either way, there is no chance I can drive home. So while I still have my wits about me, I dive into my purse and hand over my keys to Lisette. Meanwhile, Sarah, as usual, is being approached by a couple of guys. Poor bastards, they have no clue what they’ve just signed up for.


After Lisette grabs my keys, she leans in a little closer with a questioning look on her face. “So?”

“So.”

“Please, Julia. You know what, ‘so.’”

“No, I don’t know what ‘so,’” I answer with a sly grin.

“What are you going to do about Alex?” she asks.

I push some of my hair off of one shoulder while pretending to adjust myself in my seat. I sneak a glance to where Alex is still staring at me from across the bar. Holy hell! If you could see the way he’s looking at me right now. You know how Dracula can do some freaky shit with his eyes that make you want to offer him your neck so he can suck your blood? Well Alex’s stare makes me want to stand up and grab him by his loosened tie and lead him into the nearest darkened alley. It’s an entirely effective look that I’m seriously considering when Lisette taps me on the shoulder.

“I’m very disappointed in you,” she says in an annoyed voice.

“Why? What did I do?”

“This is not like you, sitting over here and hiding like a scaredy-cat from some guy.”

Dammit, she’s one hundred percent right. I do not sit and hide from anyone—usually. The only problem is that this isn’t just anyone we’re talking about. Even after the other night on our date I’m still not sure how to act around him without feeling as if I can’t find my footing. Come to think of it, why hasn’t he come over here to me? Unless he’s trapped under something heavy all of a sudden, there is no reason he can’t walk over to me and at least say hello. A little something is all I’m looking for, for f*ck’s sake! I don’t think that’s asking for too much.

Gah! I need to stop this hamster-spinning-on-a-wheel crap. I will not turn into a full-on neurotic crazy person because of Alex. Nope. At least not today.

Screw this waiting around and trying to psychoanalyze the hell out of this situation. I’m going in.

“You know what? You’re right.” I take another swig of my beer before waving the bartender over again and ordering myself another shot of tequila.

“What are you doing?” Lisette asks.

Sarah, who was temporarily detained by flirting with yet another guy, notices the shot glass being readied in front of me and claps her hands together. “Oooh, more shots! Can I have one?”

Lisette and I answer her with a resounding, “No.”

She frowns. “Bummer.”

“Julia needs some liquid courage,” Lisette explains to Sarah.

“For what?”

I toss the shot back without a second thought. It burns going down my throat, but after a few seconds I’m okay and I stand up. I take a second to steady myself in my high heels before wiping my hands nervously on my jeans. My dad used to say if you want something bad enough, you have to fight to get it. So here I go, fighting for what I want and hoping that I don’t make a complete jackass of myself in the process.

“For this,” I tell her as I grab my beer bottle off the bar. “Wish me luck.”

I get as far as two steps away from them when I hear Sarah start chanting behind me, “Work it, own it, work it.”

God, she is the worst wingman ever, but bless her heart, she means well.

Maneuvering through this crowd is a pain in the ass. Sweaty people bumping into you by accident and on purpose are annoying as hell. The on-purpose ones are the ones you have to watch for. They try to be all Fonzie smooth about it, but it’s usually a tool looking to hit on you. But all of it is worth it when my eyes feast upon my intended destination. He’s casually leaning against the back wall of the bar by himself like he hasn’t a care in the world. The corner of his mouth curls up in a sexy grin with every step that brings me closer until I’m finally standing right in front of him.