“I’ve changed my mind,” I call back to the bartender while I spring from my seat and chase after the gorgeous brunette.
“Hey, Sierra! Wait up,” I yell, catching up with her.
Her steps momentarily falter, and her eyes quickly widen, just before that wall she’s an expert at erecting flies up.
“I’m off, but Monica is running the bar. She can take your order.” She doesn’t stop walking.
“Unless you’re on the menu, she can’t help me.” Cheesy as fuck, I know, but at this point, I throw that shit out to get her attention. Like a five-year-old boy who messes with the girl he likes at recess.
I know it works when she snorts under her breath, then covers her mouth and nose to cover it up—too late. “I really have to get going,” she says. “The bus will be here in a few minutes, and unless I want to wait an hour for the next one, I need to grab it.”
“Get a drink with me.” I rush forward and block her path. “Please. Just one drink.”
She stops in her place. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”
“Who said anything about being your boyfriend?” I joke. “I just asked you to get a drink with me. If I buy you food, will you assume I’m going to ask you to move in with me? Oh, shit.” I widen my eyes in mock surprise. “If I throw in an appetizer, will you expect me to propose?”
The cutest fucking blush creeps up her neck and cheeks. “I… I didn’t…”
“I’m just messing with you.” I step toward her. “In all seriousness, I have every intention of becoming your boyfriend one day.” Her eyes bug out in shock. “And one day, you will move in with me… Or I can move in with you.” I shrug. “And then, when I know you’re going to say yes, I will most definitely propose.”
“Kolton!” She gasps.
I ignore the beginnings of her freak-out. “You and me… it’s inevitable. But don’t worry. I’m okay with taking things slow… for now.” I playfully wink. “All I want to do is take you somewhere to buy you a drink and have a conversation. So, what do you say? One drink? Anywhere you want.”
She sighs, and her face dips, her gaze dropping to the ground. She’s thinking, contemplating. I’m wearing her down…
“Please,” I murmur, moving into her space.
Her hair is fanned over her face, so I lightly pinch her chin, forcing her to look up at me, so she can no longer hide behind her curtain of hair. “If you really want me to stop pursuing you, I will, Sierra. But I don’t think you want me to stop. I think you’re scared of what you feel between us, and I get it because I am too. I’ve never felt the instant connection with anyone the way I feel it with you.”
She sucks in a harsh breath, and a wayward strand of hair falls over her eye. I use it as an excuse to touch her by tucking it behind her ear. As my fingers glide down the side of her face, she shivers.
“Kolton,” she breathes, leaning her face into my palm and closing her eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You take a deep breath, you open your eyes, and then you agree to have a drink with me.”
She swallows thickly, then does what I say. “Okay. One drink.” She steps backward slightly, out of my reach, and my hand drops. I want to pull her back so I can touch her some more, but I can tell just agreeing to have a drink with me was hard for her. I need to remember to take shit slow so she doesn’t feel overwhelmed.
“Do you want to walk to someplace close, or do you trust me to drive us somewhere?”
She glances around. “You’ll need to give me a ride home anyway, so I guess we can drive somewhere. Just… if you’re planning to murder me, can you at least leave my body somewhere the police can find it so my sister will know I’m gone?”
I chuckle at her dry sense of humor. “I promise.”
I guide her around back to the parking lot and over to where I parked my bike. I only have one helmet, but we won’t be going far, and technically, they’re not required here.
“Wait, you drive a motorcycle?” she says, coming to an abrupt halt when we arrive at my bike.
“Is that a problem?” I grab my helmet and hand it to her.
“No… I don’t know…” She groans. “It’s just…I dated my fair share of bad boys in high school, and it never ended well. And the past couple of years I’ve tried to become someone better… Someone my sister and nephew can be proud of and—”
“Whoa there. That’s a whole lot of stereotyping and assumptions in one breath. Yes, I have tattoos. Yes, I drive a motorcycle, but I’m also in college getting my master’s, and I’m a mama’s boy through and through. Sometimes riding a bike is just that… the love of riding.”