Savannah laughs. “Damn,” she murmurs with a coy smile. “That’s the only way I know how to flirt.”
My laugh joins hers, and I resist the urge to reach for her again. “Oh, I doubt that,” I answer. “I bet you have men falling at your feet looking like that.”
“Looking like what?”
God, I want to tangle my fingers through her hair and crush those soft, pouty lips to mine. Does she not know how bright she shines? How utterly captivating she is?
“Like my new favorite dessert.” For emphasis, I let my gaze roam her body, making sure she knows exactly how gorgeous I find her.
When my gaze lands on her face again, I find her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. On instinct, I reach out, thumb smearing her lip gloss as I tug her lip free, wishing I could capture her mouth with my own. It takes every single ounce of will I possess to stop myself.
But then she leans into my touch, swaying closer on those sky-high heels. She tilts her head back, my grip on her chin holding her still. Every cell in my body is practically screaming at me to kiss this woman, and shit, I’m not about to argue.
Our lips graze, just enough that I can taste the sweetness of her drink and the gloss, and then she jolts away, catching herself on the bar.
“SAVVY!”
I register the new voice seconds after her as my head snaps towards the open door of the bar. A small group enters, two women and a tall man, the one at the front shouting Savannah’s name.
Ah. I turn my attention back to Savannah, registering the guilt on her face as her eyes flick between me and what I presume is her group of friends. Disappointment mingles with the whisky, the combination bitter.
“Thank you for the drink,” Savannah murmurs softly, her arm grazing mine as she pushes past me, cheeks red, and heads for her friends. The short hem of her dress hugs her ass as Savannah sways her way across the bar, accepting hugs from the group.
My stomach sinks. I don’t want to lose her before I’ve even had a chance to get to know her.
I hadn’t come out tonight with the intention of returning home with company, but now the idea of leaving this bar alone and going back to my empty apartment fills me with irritation.
That tiny taste of her isn’t near enough. The damp fabric of my shirt is a reminder of her as I perch back on the bar stool, keeping my gaze glued to the girl I want. The girl I need. It’s insane, the way I’m obsessing over a woman I’ve barely met, but with one clumsy accident, she’s swept me up into her orbit.
After the shit show of the week I’ve had, I’m wound tight with tension. The long hours of interviews and reviewing CVs to replace the secretary who quit two weeks ago have taken their toll.
The only silver lining is that one of the managers found someone willing to start on Monday. I didn’t get the chance to interview them myself, but the office was fucking falling apart without a secretary, phone calls getting missed and files going missing and turning a job I’m usually exceptional at into a giant pain in my ass.
The bartender tops up my glass again and I sip it slowly, considering my next move. I can cut my losses and try to forget about her, but even as the thought crosses my mind, I know it would be impossible. There’s no way in hell I could erase her from my head no matter how hard I try.
Savannah and her friends take seats at a small table, the guy nudging his chair closer to hers until their thighs touch. My grip tightens on my glass, something flaring within me.
“Send another to her table,” I tell the guy behind the bar. In minutes, the cocktail arrives at her table, and Savannah’s head turns to me before she can fight the impulse. I watch her friends ask her questions about it, and smile as their eyes land on me.
I swear there’s a flicker of jealousy in the man’s dark gaze, and I hold his stare. He puts his arm around the back of her chair, turning Savannah’s attention back to them even as he narrows his eyes at me. Acute anger shoots through me at the move, the wordmineplaying on a loop in my brain. Logically, I’m aware that I have no claim to her, not really, but I can’t deny the bone-deep surety that she belongs with me. Only me.
The man’s brow raises, a smug smirk crossing his lips.
A challenge, then.
I hold his stare. The man looks away first.
I never lose, not at board games or chess or even silly bets made in jest. I’m certainly not about to lose the most important prize I’ve ever wanted.
2
SAVANNAH
“Who is that?” Polly hisses from across the table, her eyes wide.
My face burns with embarrassment at my friend’s questions. I can feel the man’s eyes on me, and I’m shaking with the effort not to turn around and meet his dark gaze.
“I slipped and spilled my drink on him, so he got me a new one. That’s all,” I answer, sipping my cocktail to stop myself from saying anything more. My body hums with the memory of his body near mine, the scent of his cologne, and the warmth of his hand on my elbow, steadying me.
