4th & Girl

“Works for me,” I said with a smile before handing her my phone. “Go ahead and punch it in, and we’ll just GPS it.”

Her eyes went wide, and I paused.

“What?”

She laughed a little and shook her head. “Sorry. I just…I guess it just surprised me that you handed me your phone so easily.”

I chuckled and clicked on the engine with a flick of my wrist. “Don’t worry. I cleared all of the incriminating stuff off of there before I left home.”

“Ah,” she said through a cute little giggle. “Naked pictures?”

“Tons,” I confirmed teasingly. “Loads of numbers too. Maybe even a text or two from women tonight.”

She narrowed her eyes, and I laughed outright. “I’m kidding. I’m a little too busy to have women all over the place.”

“I’m sure that’s what all the pro football players say.”

With one last laugh, I shifted into drive and pulled out as she set the navigation to play, and a comfortable silence settled over us.

Both of us were nervous, I could tell, but the little bout of banter had at least eased the tension.

When we pulled up to the address listed in the phone, all the anxiousness had left her smile.

At least…until she saw the sign on the building.

“What the hell?” she yelled, and I looked up to follow her gaze.

Bright pink and neon, the letters of the sign glittered and glistened the name of the restaurant. Drag.

Not to mention, a seven-foot-tall Barbra Streisand standing beneath the hot-pink awning of the establishment put out her cigarette on the brick of the building and went back inside. Instantly, Gemma sank into her seat and covered her eyes.

“I’m going to kill Abby.”

Somehow, the level of her frustration just made me feel at ease.

Hell, it even made me grin a little. I’d thought she was cute when she was bumbling and awkward, but fuck, that cuteness multiplied by ten when frustration took over her pretty little face and furrowed her brow.

My chest expanded with excitement, and I exited the vehicle and rounded the hood to get to Gemma’s door.

I opened it with ease and then asked the question of the night.

“Shall we?” I asked with a little smirk.

She uncovered her face, and despite the uncertainty that still remained within her pretty blue eyes, she accepted with a quiet “Yes.”

It seemed we shall.

I took a sip from my vodka martini and tried to wrap my brain around the chaos.

Not only was I out with a guy I’d met under the most incredibly awkward circumstances, but I’d also inadvertently brought us to a drag show for our first date.

And, Lord Almighty, Leo Landry was a sight inside the glittered-up establishment.

He stuck out like a dick in a pair of panty hose, and that was saying a lot considering our current location.

Confused and slightly concerned, I snuck my phone out of my purse and sent Abby a text message.

Me: So…uh…just out of curiosity…have you ever been to this restaurant?

She responded a minute later.

Abby: Oh yeah, I go there all the time.

Internally, I sighed at her words.

Fucking hell, I should’ve known…

Me: So you’re 100% aware you sent me to a drag show? For a first date? With a guy I’ve already incurred one too many awkward encounters with?

Abby: Completely aware, and in my personal opinion, it’s the most brilliant thing I’ve ever suggested. First dates shouldn’t be stuffy and boring. They should be fun, Gem. And trust me, you’re going to have some fucking fun tonight.

Either she was an evil genius, or she’d just set me up for disaster.

I honestly didn’t know, but I knew spending my night distracted and texting with my best friend wasn’t going to help the situation.

But before I slipped my phone back into my purse, she sent one final message.

Abby: Have fun! And, btw, if you see Asia, tell her Abby says hello.

I rolled my eyes. Oh yeah, I’d be sure to tell Asia that Abby said hello, you know, once I figured out how in the hell I was going to explain to Leo how I managed to drag—pun intended—us into this situation.

He took a sip of beer and his Adam’s apple bobbed when the liquid went down his throat. I’d never really thought an Adam’s apple could be sexy, but somehow, Leo proved otherwise.

Between his blue as the Caribbean eyes and his perfect lips and his incredibly toned and fit body, I was damn near overstimulated. It was like stepping inside a bakery on a Sunday morning and trying to pick out a goddamn pastry.

Cinnamon roll or glazed twist or strawberry-filled or…? Son of a sugar rush, just give me one of everything.

Obviously, Leo looked a lot different from a glazed donut, but I had a feeling he probably tasted just as flipping good.

When I caught myself with my mouth hanging open wide enough to catch flies, I curbed my randy thoughts and focused on taking a sip from my martini. The liquid stung as it slid down my throat, but the distraction was much-needed.