Maybe for him, but not for me. Never for me.
I’m the queen of fumbling.
What doesapproachableeven mean?
“The chances of someone coming up to me are very slim, Cillian.”
His brow furrows, and he shakes his head. “Why? You’re a hot college girl. Someone’s going to talk to you. Go on. Stop wasting time.”
Wait, Cillian thinks… I’mhot? A guy like him, thinks I’m hot? Well, that was unexpected, but okay.
Using his words as encouragement, I nod and exhale a shaky breath, releasing my shoulders while I work on internally hyping myself up.
I got this. I can do it.
When this is over I’m going to be the most confident, smooth, badass bitch ever and it will all be worth it. Every embarrassing moment.
Once I’m seated at the end of the bar, and I’ve ordered a double shot of vodka and Red Bull, my nerves are going haywire, a flurry of energy dancing in my stomach. It’s one thing to make a fool of myself flirting with a random guy at a random bar when I’m alone, but an entirely different thing to know that someone’s going to bewatchingas I do.
It makes me even more anxious about the task Cillian’s assigned me. Like there’s more pressure on me knowing that I’m going to be judged on this.
I’m already thinking about the disastrous outcome, and nothing’s even happened yet. Something that I tend to do when I get nervous.
The bartender slides my drink across the bar to me, and I smile, thanking him. And then, I wait.
And wait.
And… wait more.
Sneaking glances at Cillian every few minutes because I can practically feel the weight of his stare on me.
God, this is mortifying.
I told him that no one is just going to randomly come up and talk to me because that’s just how th—
“Hey.” A smooth, velvety deep voice comes from beside me,and I’m so lost in thought that it startles me, causing me to nearly knock my drink over.
I turn toward the voice and see a tall guy with dark hair, a short mustache, and a lazy, boyish grin wearing a hockey jersey.
He’s… cute.
Which sends my stomach in a flip and my heart battering against my rib cage.
Okay, this is it. I can do this. This is exactly what is supposed to be happening, I remind myself. Exactly why Cillian sent me over here.
My gaze darts to where he’s sitting in the booth, catching his eyes. He nods as he lifts a brow.
I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.
I’m just going to keep gaslighting myself into believing it.
CHAPTER 10
Rory
Well, that was actually a complete, utter, disaster,” I huff as I slide back into the busted leather seat of the booth, dropping my head into my hands. “A category five disaster. Catastrophic, if you weren’t aware.”
When I finally lift my head from my hands, I find Cillian gaping at me like I’ve grown two heads.
