“Hey, Kevin,” Callum greeted. “You alone tonight?”
“For now,” I told him with a hopeful shrug.
“What can I get you?”
“Vodka and Sprite.”
Callum nodded and passed me my drink in the blink of an eye before sliding down the bar to deal with another patron. I took my drink and turned, resting my back against the bar and taking a small sip. Scanning the dancing crowd and not finding what I was looking for, I let my stare drift upward toward the play loft. There wasn’t much to see since the space was mostly shadows, but I recognized what it looked like when bodies came together.
With a deep breath, I fought back a surge of interest and took another swallow of my drink. I needed to finish it and get my heart rate back to normal, andthensee what the night would bring.
“You alone?”
A man had come alongside me, but I kept my stare focused on the dance floor. I was a submissive, not a doormat. I didn’t want to fawn all over someone like an overeager puppy. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I could tell he was attractive. A little taller than me with messy dark hair. I dared a quick glance down when he leaned against the bar, noting curls of tattoos that licked down his arm toward his wrist.
“For now,” I answered, taking another drink.
“Did you want to be?” His voice sounded low and smooth, sweet as honey, and I cast a quick look up at him through my eyelashes.
He had blue eyes.
Gorgeous, piercing blue eyes that threatened to look straight through me.
I adjusted my glasses on the bridge of my nose and returned my attention to my drink, now nearly half empty.
“Not for the whole night,” I answered, hoping I sounded coy and not desperate.
“I’m Ronan,” he said.
“Kevin,” I rasped, voice barely audible to my own ears.
He leaned in, his mouth inches from my ear. “I didn’t catch that.”
Shivers tracked down the back of my neck and I inhaled a quiet breath.
“Kevin,” I repeated, hoping he heard me that time.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Ronan’s breath dragged hot and heavy against the shell of my ear and I closed my eyes, focusing on my own breathing so I didn’t collapse on the spot.
This man...Ronan...he was exactly who I was looking for.
“You too,” I managed.
“What are you drinking?” His words were still hot against my ear, the side of my face. I could feel him looking at me, appraising me as if I was up for sale. And I supposed, in a way, I was.
“Vodka Sprite.”
“Did you want to get me one?” he asked.
I turned at that, coming practically nose to nose with him. Ronan was handsome, nearly painfully so, with those blue eyes and that hair of his that looked like it had been styled at one point, hours before. He had on a black button-up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, with dark tattoos that covered his forearms. I couldn’t tell what kind of pants he wore, but I found myself sad he wore any pants at all.
“Kevin.” He cleared his throat. “Did you want to get me a vodka Sprite?”
“Do you want one?” I asked, wincing as the words left my mouth. “Never mind. Of course you do.”
I flagged Callum down, and he came up to us with a smile.
“Did you want another?” he asked me before turning to Ronan. “Hey, Ronan, good to see you.”
