He shrugs. “Then don’t drink it.”
The bartender regards us like we’re wayward teenagers before leaving to fulfill our order.
I lean back on my stool. “I guess you never read The Second Sex.”
“Honey, I don’t have a doubt in my mind you have a five-point argument as to why accepting a drink feeds the everlasting disappointment of women.”
Oh my god, does he…read?
I study my manicure with meticulous attention. “Did your How to Pick Up Women in the Twenty-First Century audio program have a women’s study chapter?”
He laughs. “Starting to get a little nervous, are you?”
“About what? Your passing knowledge of feminism?” I gasp, clutching my chest. “How terrifying.”
He raises his drink, sips, then licks a stray drop of liquid from his lower lip. “Who’s gaslighting whom here?”
The words feed my growing lust. “Your arrogance is stunning.”
“Sure it is.” He gives me an amused smile.
People rarely surprise me, and that goes double for men. Smart men who can give me a run for my money are my kryptonite, but I’m not sure I’ve ever come across one.
I retrieve my fresh bourbon, raising it in a toast. “Even though you’re insufferable, I’ve decided to take your drink.”
He clinks his glass against mine. “Shocker.”
This shouldn’t be working, but it is. “Just so you know, smugness isn’t all that attractive.”
He shifts on the stool, facing me more fully. There’s something about the way he moves, the way he kind of slides into the space, like it’s been waiting for him to fill it. “Since you’re a no, why would my attractiveness matter?”
Obviously, I’ve warmed. A fact not lost on him, but he’s so cool and confident I’m not about to start swooning. Men swoon over me, not the other way around. “I’m multitalented. I can be uninterested and crush your ego at the same time.”
“I bet you crush men’s egos on a daily basis.”
“You’re right, I do.” I lean back, arching, stretching like a cat, before running my hands through my dark hair. A little tacky and slinky, but men are easy, and I go with what works. “Just so you know, it says something about you that your only reason for being attractive is to get me into bed.”
He shakes his head, those dark eyes of his really eating me up. “It’s entertaining how it never crosses your mind I might not be trying to fuck you.”
“Give me a break. Do I look stupid to you?”
The air between us practically crackles.
He puts his elbow on the bar and rests his forefinger on his temple. “Do you honestly think I seduce women by telling them to shut up? Does that sound effective?”
Okay, that does sound a little ridiculous, but I’m creative, and crafting arguments is one of my special skills. I can make almost anything sound plausible. “How should I know? Maybe you’re one of those guys who gets off on being dismissive and punishing. You’ve probably grown bored with women dropping at your feet, so you’ve got to up the ante by being twisted.”
He studies me like I’m a rare specimen. “What does that say about you?”
“That I’m smart enough to see past your ruse.” I lean forward and smirk. “I know it’s confusing, but see, sometimes women aren’t swayed by your bullshit.”
He smirks back. “Yet, here you sit.”
“Someone has to take down the patriarchy.”
He’s the epitome of male amusement. “Is that what’s getting you so hot? Bringing down the patriarchy?”
“It’s cute you think this is working.” Oh, it’s working. My thighs actually clench when he talks, which has never happened in my entire history with the male population. “Guess that explains why you’re sitting in a dive bar all by yourself on a Friday.”