Our gazes lock again, and this time he’s wearing a full-blown smirk, one that says he knows very well we’ve been talking about him—and that he’s totally okay with that fact. My cheeks start to heat, along with the rest of me, and I don’t know whether I’m going to die of embarrassment or spontaneously combust from unrealized desire right here in the middle of the bar. And when he raises his beer in a silent toast that’s obviously meant for me, I almost swallow my tongue.
As does every other woman at my table.
“Do something!” Autumn hisses out of the corner of her hugely smiling mouth.
“Do what?” I demand just as Skye kicks me.
“Strip naked. Dance on the table. Who cares?” chimes in Karen, the receptionist at the yoga studio. “Because if you don’t, I definitely will!”
“I’m pretty sure I’ll get arrested if I do either of those things,” I answer, but my heart is beating more quickly with every second that he continues to look at me.
Suddenly, I’m thinking of breaking my own rules.
Thinking of going for it since I have nine women telling me that he’s very definitely interested.
I’m a little tipsy, a little aroused and there doesn’t seem a better time or a better reason to just go for it.
And that’s when he turns away, not only breaking our eye contact but going so far as to swivel his stool around to face the other direction.
And just like that he’s another missed opportunity. The story of my damned life.
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