The Consequence of Seduction (Consequence 3)

I was too busy trying to get the ice out of my bra to look up.

“Wow, that’s new. Can’t say I’ve ever caused a woman to dump ice on her own shirt before.” The voice just got sexier by the minute, didn’t it?

“Aha!” I pulled out the almost completely melted cubes and dropped them to the floor, then looked up. I blinked to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. And then I turned around like a complete loser.

Nobody sat behind me.

Damn, I guess I’m back to the gay thing.

“Sorry.” I turned back around and forced a smile. “Long day.”

The man had crazy hypnotic eyes. They were an aqua blue that I could have sworn full-on shimmered after I stared at them too long. Note to self: don’t look directly in his eyes for fear that clothes will spontaneously pull themselves off my body. I cleared my throat and narrowed my gaze.

His wavy auburn hair fell perfectly parted to the side, revealing a shaved section on the left right above his ear. It was trendy, sexy.

Full, bow-shaped lips curved into a smile. “That’s all right.” He pulled out a bar stool next to me and sat.

What was I supposed to do with my hands? Panicking, I grabbed my empty glass and clenched it so tight I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if it shattered in my hands.

The bartender finally made his way over. Bastard.

“What can I get you?” He placed a napkin in front of the hot and mysterious stranger.

“What she’s having?” He pointed a long, gorgeous finger in my direction.

A confused frown marred the bartender’s face. “Er, you just get here?”

I fought back a growl. “No. Been sitting here for a half hour now.”

“You sure?” Did he really have to press the issue?

I gritted my teeth. “Pretty sure.”

“Hmm, maybe Keith helped you then.”

It hadn’t been Keith.

“Rum and Coke,” I grumbled, wanting him to go away so I could stare at the pretty man candy next to me.

“Diet?” the bartender asked.

“What?” I felt my face flush. “No, regular Coke.”

He paused, giving me a once-over, and then shrugged and made my drink. In that moment, I had a very vivid daydream that involved a malfunctioning nutcracker.

“Double,” said Handsome on my left. “Make both of ours doubles. Hell, maybe give her a triple.”

“Ha.” I tapped the counter with my fingertips. “Getting drunk on a school night is frowned upon.”

The mesmerizing aqua eyes darn near bugged out of his head.

“Relax.” I smirked. “I have a fake ID.”

He clearly didn’t understand I was joking. With a curse, he stood to leave.

I burst out laughing. “I’m kidding. I’m thirty, I promise. I’ll even show you my ridiculously obnoxious photo on my driver’s license.” I nodded. “There was a storm that day.”

He flashed a smile and sat again. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“I call chicken,” I announced, then jerked my ID from my black Coach clutch and thrust it in his face.

“Damn.” He shuddered. Yup, I’d just made a hot stranger shudder in disgust. That’s how awesome I was at picking up men. Then again, he was gay, so the poor guy was probably horrified at the sweatshirt I was wearing in the picture.

“Yeah, well.” I put the ID back just as our drinks arrived.

Handsome Stranger paid for them, then took a large sip.

“So.” I twisted the two straws in the drink with my fingers. “Where’s the lucky guy?”

“Lucky guy?” His eyes narrowed as he took another drink. “I’m confused.”

“You’re gay,” I announced in a defeated voice.

Rum and Coke sprayed all over the counter. Handsome Stranger proceeded to choke on what I could only assume was an overly large tongue as he continued to cough and then finished his entire drink, slamming the glass back onto the countertop.

“Did Max put you up to this?” he rasped.

“Ah, lover boy has a name.” I winked. “Max. Sounds . . . flimsy. He the chick in this relationship?”

“Holy hell, I’m going to kill him.” He shook his head. “See, this is what happens when he tells me to take a chance!”

“To be fair”—I gave him a polite nod—“he was probably trying to encourage you to live a little.”

He glared. “I live just fine . . . in a penthouse.”

“Didn’t ask.” I held up my hands in defense.

“With floor-to-ceiling windows.”

“Awesome.” I started to scoot slowly away.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Mr. Handsome hooked his foot into my stool and jerked it toward him. I nearly collapsed into his lap. “What did Max tell you?”

“Is this a game?” I whispered. “Because I don’t think I know how to play.”

“Game.” He bit down hard on his full bottom lip. “If it was a game, I’d be losing.”

“O-okay.” I tried to inch away again, but this time his hand came down on my arm, holding me still.

“I’m not gay.”

“Then who’s Max?”

“My brother.”

“Whoa.” I laughed. “Okay, that’s a little too much crazy for one night. Thanks for the drink, but I think I’ll . . .” I held up my hands and waved into the air. “I’ll pass on whatever game you and your lover are playing. Have a good night.”