"It snuck up on her, huh?" I asked, smiling at the way Savvs gave me a glass-eyed grin.
"I miss Hannibal," she informed me. "He's home all alone."
"You gave him a pile of bones to hold him over until we get back," I reminded her, tucking her dark hair behind her ear.
"Where's your hot biker man?" she went on, words getting slow and sleepy.
If you were looking for an all-night drinking partner, Savea was not your girl.
"I'll take her home," Jamie offered, meaning Savea's home. Where she would crash. Because Jamie possibly knew me better than anyone else. And because she knew me, she knew that I wasn't going home alone tonight.
"Good idea. She's gonna want her own bed for the hangover she's gonna have tomorrow."
"You good here?" she asked, taking a look around the bar.
"I'm good anywhere. Don't worry about me. I will text you before I go to sleep."
"I'll wait up," she agreed as she led Savvy away.
And she would.
She wouldn't sleep if I didn't text.
And if it got late enough without word from me, she would drive over to check on me.
Good friends, I had them.
"I owe you a night at your lady-on-lady club," I told her. "I will be a great wing woman, I promise."
"Be safe," she told me, half-carrying a half-asleep Savea out the door.
"Well, now you can't be drinking alone," Sugar's voice said from right behind me, close enough that I could feel his body heat through my thin dress.
"Oh no? Who do you suggest I drink with?" I asked, turning, but not to face him, just so that he wasn't behind me anymore. "How about that one?" I asked, raising my drink to indicate a guy at the end of the bar, head tilted up to watch the TV.
"With a backward baseball cap? What, is he eight? He'll give you a ten-pump disappointment, and claim he rocked your world."
I smiled at that because, well, he was probably right.
"Alright, how about him?" I asked, nodding toward a back corner where a group of mechanics, still in their blues, but with the tops folded down around their waists were having some drinks.
"Colt?" he asked, making my head turn to him.
"Yes, Colton. He fixes my car. He's sexy. And don't try to tell me he won't get the job done. His pores seep sexual satisfaction."
Sugar smirked at that. "Got it on good authority that Colt isn't exactly as free as he has always been in the past."
"Oh, really? All the hot ones are getting locked down. It's hard out here for a lady who wants some satisfying non-commitment." I looked around, finding a tall, strong, dark-skinned man who was wearing a cut like Sugar's. "What about him?"
"Oh him? He can't get it up," he said, not even able to keep a straight face through the obvious lie.
"Well, that is a damn shame," I agreed, shooting Sugar a smirk. "So, you're saying you are my only option?"
"The only one who'd surpass your expectations," he said, moving in a step closer, his breath warm on my neck.
There was no denying the tightening between my legs at that. And it was right then that I knew he wasn't blowing smoke.
Some hot guys could talk a good talk, but you'd get them in bed, and they sucked. They weren't good at sex because they never had to be. They were good-looking enough for girls to ooh and ahh just so they could have them on their arms in public.
Sugar, it was clear, was not one of those guys.
"You seem so sure of yourself."
"Take me for a ride, baby," he suggested, lips nearly touching my earlobe in a way that made my belly swirl. "See for yourself."
"Tempting," I said, bringing my drink up to take a long sip. It was very, very tempting.
"But not tempting enough," he mused, head dipping down, pressing his lips into my neck in a way that made my stomach drop, something I hadn't felt in longer than I could even remember.
"Not yet." It was a lie, plain and simple.
"Alright," he agreed, hand pressing into my lower back, then sliding lower, just barely grazing over my ass before it was gone completely. By the time I could even turn my head to look at him, he was gone.
I didn't see him again.
Not after another two drinks that finally got me floating again.
Not as I tried to pay my tab, getting turned down as I always did, so throwing a good fifty-buck tip at Brodie who informed me that there was already a cab waiting for me.
"Want an escort out?"
"I think I will make it the five feet from the door to the cab, you sexy beast you."
"Killing me, angel. Killing me."
"Oh, you'll survive," I told him waving over my shoulder as I made my way to the door, only mildly disappointed at not finding someone suitable to take home.