“What do I say to that?”
“Is that a real question? You say yes in all caps. With a thousand exclamation points after it,” she demanded, completely serious.
Never in a million years would I type a text in that way. And especially not to Frank Fisher.
Claudia: I’d love to stop by. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.
“Boring.” Britney glanced at my text and pretended to snore, and I pointed at the door behind her.
“Out.”
“Fine. I’m leaving. But don’t forget who drove you to work today, and who can forget how to get back to our apartment when we get off.” She stuck her tongue out before disappea
ring from view. She’d never do anything to stop me from seeing a Fisher brother, and we both knew it.
Frank and I texted a couple more times throughout the day, but they were mostly polite messages in response to the others, which I appreciated.
I spent the next few hours swinging between being excited and wanting to throw up. It had been a long time since a guy had piqued my interest. But here I was, counting down the minutes until I could clock out, go home, and change into something comfortable.
There was no way I was showing up at Sam’s in my work clothes.
Not-so-Nice Guy
Frank
What the hell had I done? I’d successfully managed to get through the entire weekend without texting Claudia once. It hadn’t been easy; I had fought off the urge to text her more times than I could count. Thankfully, the bar was packed on Saturday and we had a private party Sunday afternoon, so I could pretend my mind wasn’t stuck on her as I distracted myself with work.
But when Monday rolled around, I couldn’t resist anymore. Mondays were slow as it was, but when Ryan asked if I had talked to her or not, my mind went into overdrive. Once he mentioned her name, it was all over for me. I found myself texting her before I could talk myself out of it. And not only had I initiated conversation and given her my phone number in return, but I’d also asked her to stop by the damn bar. Tonight.
What the hell was I thinking?
At least it was Nick’s night off, so I’d only have to deal with the wrath of Ryan, which wouldn’t be too bad considering he was a Disney princess and all. I stood behind the bar, mentally scolding myself, when the door opened.
I knew Claudia was about to walk through it, sensed her presence before I even saw her. Not wanting to read into that any more than was necessary, I buried the thought.
She walked in, wearing jeans slung low on her hips. The tight top she wore hugged her ample breasts, showcasing them like they were a work of art. Everything about this woman should be displayed; she was that beautiful. All rational thought, good sense, and logic escaped me with just one look at her.
Tamping down my inappropriate thoughts, I watched as Ryan greeted Claudia before turning to look me in the eye. He’d noticed that she was alone, and it didn’t take long for him to put two and two together. Shaking his head, he looked away, pretending not to have an opinion on the matter, when I knew he damn well had one and I’d hear all about it later.
Claudia headed to my side of the bar, wearing a beautiful smile. “Hey,” she said as she neared, her tone a little nervous. It was fucking adorable.
“Hey, yourself. I’m glad you made it. Do you want anything to drink?”
I knew I should care more about what the hell I was doing in this moment, but all I could think about was spending a little time with her. I wanted to get to know her better, and even though my head kept blaring warning signals, my heart was clearly taking the lead.
My heart. I was starting to sound like Ryan.
“Do you have soda? Like Sprite? Or are you going to force me to drink alcohol?” she asked with a laugh.
“I’d never force you to do anything,” I said a little too seriously. “One Sprite coming up.” I moved near Ryan to pour Claudia a Sprite and myself a Coke. If she wasn’t drinking, then neither was I.
“Did you invite her?” Ryan whispered, and I nodded. “We are so discussing this later.”
I looked at him. “I’m well aware.”
“Good.”
With the two drinks in hand, I walked back to Claudia before tipping my head toward the back of the bar, which was pretty much empty. She followed as I led her toward one of the high-top tables. I could have led us to the couch, but figured that sitting at a table might discourage my inappropriate behavior.