Page 83 of Secret Obsession
My gaze drops to the table. That’s a no to getting away with it, then.
“Look at me,” he growls.
I do. My eyes snap to his without a thought.
Why do I do that?
And a better question—why does it release some of the stiffness in my shoulders? They sag, without warning, as I lean forward and justwatchhim. As if that would be enough. As if anything I ever do will be enough.
It won’t, remember?
“How much did you drink?”
I tilt my head. “All day? Or just here?”
He blinks. “All day?”
“Four here,” I breathe. “Maybe five.”
“There’s five on your bill.”
Fuck.
“Okay, five,” I agree.
He presses his lips together for a moment, then leans back. A second later, his foot is running up the inside of my calf. “Here’s what you’re going to do, wild girl. Are you listening?”
I nod. My skin prickles. I don’t like the sensation, little bees buzzing under my skin. But I want to know what he wants. To set things right?
No, that’s not it.
“You’re going to buy a round of shots for everyone in the bar.”
My brows furrow. I cast a glance around, relieved to find that there are only a dozen people in Haven. I wave the waitress over and tell her.
“Your best whiskey,” Miles adds.
Oh, my wallet is going to hurt after this.
Her eyes widen, but she nods quickly and heads back to the bar. She passes out the drinks slowly, seeming to need to explain to everyone that I’ve bought them a shot. Their gazes swing toward me one by one, and heat licks across my face.
Finally, she brings back two shots for us.
I lick my lips.
“Go on,” he says.
I shiver and lift the shot glass. I shouldn’t mix liquors, but it goes down easy enough. I set it down and lean back, groaning at the feel of it. It adds to my floating feeling. I’m untethered, except for Miles’ foot running up and down the inside of my leg.
He slides his glass toward me.
“Be a good girl and take that,” he says. “I’m driving you home, after all.”
I lift it and stare at the amber liquid.
“Maybe after that shot, you’ll decide that you want another round for the bar,” he continues. “Or maybe you’ll get up and go to the bathroom, where you’ll pull your pants down and put your hands on the wall in the handicap stall. And you’ll wait for me there, with your head bent and your heart pounding out of your chest.”
His words hang between us.
