Bail on Jared Quinn? No way. “Definitely not. I guess I’d take one for the team.” Willow’s voice muffled as if she’d keeled over in hysterics, and Sheridan couldn’t help but join in. “I don’t mean I’d do the whole team, you pervert. Oh, God, you know what I mean.” She shouldn’t have had that other cotton candy cocktail Willow had pushed on her before she walked to the bar. It was right next door to the convention center, and she’d felt relatively safe darting over.
But what if Jared didn’t show? “You’ll rescue me if he doesn’t come, right?”
“Of course. I’ll be your knight in shining armor if you need me.” Willow sighed. “Sounds like he doesn’t know what he’s missing, though. What a prick he is, ditching you.”
“I’m early. You know how I am.” She was punctual to a fault.
“He should already be there, waiting for you. It’s the proper, gentlemanly thing to do.”
“From what I understand, he’s not a gentlemanly type of guy. Besides, the bar is dead. I don’t know why he chose it.” Maybe since it was convenient. Not where the trendy set hung out, that was for sure.
“I bet he planned on attacking you in a darkened booth or something.” Willow sounded wistful. “Maybe he was hoping to get laid.”
“Maybe you’re the one hoping to get laid. It’s, like, all you can talk about.” Sheridan mouthed a thank-you to the bartender when he set the glass of water in front of her.
“Sorry. It’s been a while,” Willow explained. “And I was talking to one of those Hawk players myself earlier. He was so hot, but sort of an ass.”
“Which one?”
“Nick Hamilton. I know him, of course. Daddy dealt with his team for something or other, I don’t remember.” Willow was completely unfazed by famous, beautiful men. Sheridan wished for once she were just as immune.
She so wasn’t.
The door opened, a blast of cool ocean air preceding whoever was about to walk in. Sheridan glanced toward the door, her eyes widening when she saw him. “He’s here,” she murmured into the phone, greedily drinking in Jared from her vantage point. His hair was ruffled by the wind, his expression grim as he scanned the room, those sharp blue eyes seeing everything.
A shiver moved through her, and it wasn’t from the cold wind blowing in the still-open door.
“Go get him, tiger,” Willow said, laughter in her throaty voice. “Have fun. And text me if you end up leaving with him. So I know you’re alive and won’t call the police to report you missing.”
“I will, I promise. ’Bye.” She ended the call and spun on her barstool to find Jared approaching her, his lips curved in the slightest smile. “Hi.”
“Sorry if I kept you waiting.” His eyes lit upon her, warm and inviting, and she noticed his extraordinarily long eyelashes, thick and dark. The kind that made many a woman jealous, including herself. “Want to go sit in a booth?”
“Um, sure.” She grabbed her water and slid off the barstool, and couldn’t help but notice the appreciative glance Jared sent her bare legs. Her skin warmed and she stepped closer to him, feeling awfully small even in her heels. He was just so big.
The image of a twenty-two ounce Pepsi bottle floated through her head and she forced the vision away. God. Thanks a lot, Willow.
They walked to one of the rounded booths in the back of the bar, Jared’s hand resting at the small of her back the entire way. Her heart pounded in her ears at his slightly possessive touch, and she fought the urge to lean into him. See if he was as hard as he looked.
He’s a stranger. And what did they always tell you about strangers in elementary school? Stranger danger!
Yeah. Well, she felt like she knew him, what with him being a celebrity. And he wasn’t a serial killer because, come on, he wouldn’t be able to get away with murder. Everyone would recognize him.
Besides, what was wrong with a little danger now and then?
Releasing a shuddering breath, she pushed the silly thoughts from her head. She was being ridiculous. She just needed to relax and go with the flow.
She slid into the booth, a secret thrill pulsing through her when he slid in after her, sitting extra close. He rested his forearms on the edge of the table, his gaze locked on hers before it dropped to study the glass of water she’d brought with her. “Not going for anything stronger?”
“I probably shouldn’t.” The more alcohol she consumed, the more of a risk-taker she became. What if she did something crazy, like throw herself at Jared?
Yeah, so what if you did?
Working so hard lately meant she’d rarely
taken time for herself. She didn’t know what the word “pampering” meant anymore, let alone remembered the last time she went out on a date. She flat out didn’t have time for any of that stuff.
The more she thought about it, the more she believed she deserved a little fun. Jared seemed nice enough. He exuded sex appeal, had a great smile, and well, he was hot.