Page 14 of The What If Guy (The Guys Who Got Away 3)
The elixir spreads to every molecule in my body, setting off a buzz. I love that he’s confident enough to pull back the curtain, to let me see the details of how this date came to be. “You’re normal. Human. Hey, I didn’t ask for your number either, and I should have. But look on the bright side—you have terrific friends.”
“I do.” He leans closer, shaking his head almost like he’s surprised at something. “You have gorgeous eyes, Bryn.” He holds up a hand helplessly, like he can’t quite believe those words came out of his mouth. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”
My skin tingles. My stomach flips. “Like many people, I enjoy compliments, and I especially enjoy them from men that I really wanted to see again.”
“Good. Then let me add that you look absolutely fucking stunning tonight, and those boots are incredible.” His gaze roams over me, and I embrace the compliment, kicking one high-heeled leather-clad foot back and forth.
“And you look as good in jeans and a Henley as you did in a suit.”
“Thanks,” he says with a grin, pushing up the sleeves of his Henley the slightest bit.
My eyes pop when I catch sight of his skin. “Nice ink.”
His gaze drifts down to a lotus flower design on his forearm, as if he just remembered it was there. Running a thumb across the pattern, he grins. “It’s sort of new. I got it a year ago. Always wanted ink though.”
“It’s beautiful and manly at the same time. I love it,” I say, reaching to touch his arm. His breath hitches when I run my finger along the intricate curved lines. “It looks good on you. Really good.”
Who is this bold woman inhabiting me? This woman hasn’t come out to play at night like this in some time. But this daring woman is me. This is how I am at work, and it’s thrilling to be this way with a guy too. To be direct, to tell him what I like.
That voice of worldly wisdom chimes in.
Don’t be afraid to go after what you want.
Oh yes, Mama, I am going after it. I don’t need a man, but do I ever want this one.
He hooks his thumb toward the door. “Would you like to just go home with me right now?” He’s laughing, but I can tell he means it. I can tell, too, that he’s not pressuring me—that he’s simply putting his cards on the table, and I like that.
But while I kind of do want to go home with him, I’m not ready to strut out of here yet to do the horizontal tango. “Why don’t we have that drink first, and maybe a little later you can ask me that question again?” Gently, I kick the toe of my knee-high boot against his leg, exposing more of my thigh thanks to my short skirt. “We’ll see if you still get the answer I would have given you now.”
He mimes grabbing a pencil, writing something down. “Note to self: ask Bryn a very important question in a little while,” he mutters as if to himself.
I set my chin in my hand, and I meet honesty with honesty. “I told my friends about you too.”
The corner of his lips curves up. “Is that so?”
“One of them called you Mr. Lunch Box.”
He laughs, dragging a hand through his hair. “Nicknames are good.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. We didn’t know your real name. We had to call you something.”
“Fair enough. We called you Snoopy Lover. That was my sister’s nickname for you.”
I straighten my shoulders, preening a bit. “I like that you told them about me.”
“It didn’t take much for me to serve it all up. They knew the whole tale an hour or so after I met you.”
“You mean, right after we nearly pummeled each other for the lunch box?”
He shoots me a wry grin. “You did look like you’d be fierce in a fight.”
“I’m terrifying.” I hiss and brandish my nails as if they’re claws. “I’d have broken out all my street-fighting skills to take you down.”
He shrugs playfully. “I probably wouldn’t have objected to that. What other fighting styles do you know, just so I’m prepared?”
I press my finger to my lips. “Shh. Don’t be silly. A woman doesn’t give up all of her secrets. But yes, I do have my arsenal. And maybe someday I’ll tell you which ones.”
“First off, I love that you can fight. Second, I’m glad you didn’t try to take me down, because those boots are sexy as sin but look lethal as hell, and third, I’m psyched that my buds called me pathetic and made me get on the app, because I’m having a great time with you tonight.”
Those tingles? They sweep faster through me. They race along my skin. “Me too, Logan. Me too.”
