“I’m sitting in a dive bar by myself for peace and quiet, something that’s proving impossible with you around.”
I wave my hand across the expanse of the dark, dingy bar. “As previously stated, there are plenty of other places for you to sit.”
Now it’s his turn to lean in and crook a finger in my direction.
I don’t even consider not moving closer.
Those midnight eyes lock in on me. “Be honest, how disappointed would you be if I failed all your little tests?”
The words surprise me, and my whole body flushes.
He…sees right through me. “Just admit you want to fuck me.”
“Of course I do. I said I respected your wishes, not that I didn’t want to.” His voice drops, and it brings out those delicious Southern undertones. “I would very much like to shut you up.”
Smug satisfaction races through my blood. I lean back in my stool, crossing my legs. “See? I was right all along.”
He contemplates me for long enough I squirm in my chair. “I see being right is a big deal to you. But unlike you, I understand victory is relative.”
“Said like a man who knows he’s lost.”
“Said like a woman who doesn’t know how to talk herself out of the corner she’s in.”
Oh dear god. He’s a unicorn.
Before I can respond, an evil grin slides across his lips. “I’m going to be a nice guy here and give you an out.”
“I don’t need an out.” I swallow hard to clear the dryness from my throat.
“Uh-huh.” He swipes his phone from the counter and taps away before setting it back on the bar top and pushing it toward me.
I peer down to see the timer app has been set for thirty minutes.
When I shift my attention to him in question, he says, “You seem like a woman easily distracted, so let’s see if I can focus your attention.”
“I can assure you, anything that includes a timer won’t change that.”
He rolls his eyes at me like he finds me ridiculous. “In that case, I’ll cut to the chase.”
I shift in my seat again as my skirt rides high up my thighs. “Please do. The faster we get this over with, the faster I’ll never have to see you again.”
Instead of being insulted, he does the most despicable thing in the world. He reaches over the empty stool and chucks me under the chin. “You’re adorable.”
I slap his hand away. “You didn’t!”
“I did.” His gaze flickers down my body. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I want to slap you across the face.”
“Play your cards right, and maybe I’ll let you.” He shifts his phone toward me. “Who knows, maybe I’ll come up with other, more creative ways to burn through all that agitation.”
“You underestimate me.”
“I can assure you, I don’t.”
My body believes him, but my brain insists he can’t possibly be real.
Without waiting for my retort, he holds up a long index finger. “Option one—since you’re unwilling to move and love being right, I’ll be the gentleman you’re lying about wanting and concede. I’ll leave you with the pleasure of your well-fought victory. I’ll pay my tab and find another place to drink in silence. You can sit here and congratulate yourself on running off another weak male.”