With a sigh, I closed my notebook. “Fine. Yes.”
She clapped and jumped off the bed. “I’ll go get the others rounded up. You hit the shower. But don’t pick out your clothes yet.” She pointed a finger at me. “I’m supervising in that department.”
“Of course you are,” I called after her as she slammed out of my room. If she had her way, I’d leave here in fishnets.
Rising, I grabbed my shower caddy, robe, and towel, my stomach doing strange things. Butterflies, I guessed. Although I didn’t know why. I had barely spoken to Reece. He might have helped me out last night (and when my car broke down), but that was part of his job. Keeping order at Mulvaney’s. There hadn’t been anything personal in his actions.
Still, the memory of those pale blue eyes settling on me amid the dozens of others vying for his attention made my skin tingle. And they weren’t vying for his attention just because he was the guy serving up drinks. In addition to being sexy as hell, he had that strong, silent thing going for him. It was such a cliché and it shouldn’t work on me. But it did. I was a sucker for it. Like every other girl to stroll inside Mulvaney’s.
And this made me frown. I didn’t want to be like the rest of them. Interchangeable.
He might be accustomed to making out with countless women whose names and faces he couldn’t recall the next week, but I wanted to be different. Someone not like my mother.
Someone he remembered.
Emerson rounded up not only Suzanne and Amy, but a couple other girls from our floor. We totaled six, so we needed two cars. Someone decided Suzanne and I would drive—likely because we weren’t big drinkers. Fine by me. I liked being in control of my own transportation.
When we got to Mulvaney’s we walked in through the back door, past the food counter. My stomach growled and I remembered I hadn’t eaten since lunch. Emerson pulled me along when I hesitated, looking longingly at a basket of cheese-coated French fries someone had just ordered.
“C’mon. You can eat later. I’ll buy you the biggest burger on our way out.”
It was jam-packed tonight again, but I spotted Reece right away in his usual spot at the bar. Was he a student, too? What else did he do? Besides half the girls that trolled through here—if rumors were to be believed. He had to have something else going for him. Disappointment curled through me to think that there might be nothing more for him than this. No goals outside of tending bar.
Hunter was just one goal for me. One piece of the pie. If everything went as planned, I’d soon have a degree and a future working with children. That’s what I wanted. Something to enrich me, to make me feel better about the things in my life that I could never change.
“Here you go.” Emerson slapped some money into my hand. Suzanne and the others were already looking for a table. “We’ll start with two pitchers. I’ll be right behind you to help you carry them.” She shoved me in the direction of the bar.
I inched up to the bar, as close as I could get to him, already hating this moment that was starting to feel so redundant. He hadn’t spotted me yet and I wanted to run, certain he would know that I was here because of him—certain he would look right at me and call me the idiot that I felt like. Or worse. He could look at me and point and say: Hey, it’s my stalker girl!
My mother flashed across my mind. She was in a faded blue dress, strung out, her eyes glazed over as she sat on a man’s lap and toyed with his hair, desperate to win him over so she could score some money for her next fix. She was always desperate. A creature without pride. The memory left a sour taste in my mouth.
Digging in my heels, I looked back at her. “I don’t want to do this.”
“What? Why—”
I stepped closer and spoke into her ear so she could hear me over the din. “It’s just not my MO to chase after a guy. I’m sure he gets that I’m interested by now. If he’s such a player, why am I doing all the chasing?”
Emerson turned her mouth to my ear. “He just hasn’t had an opportunity yet. He’s been stuck behind that bar. With guys it’s all about opportunity. So give him an opportunity.”
Shaking my head, I resisted telling her that if a guy really likes a girl he creates an opportunity. But then what did I know? Apparently nothing. Why else would I be here on a mission to learn foreplay from a hot stranger?
I slapped the money back into her hand. “You do it. I’ll stand behind you so he can see me, but I’m not standing in front of him for a third night. I might as well have a sign around my neck. I think he gets the hint.” I flashed her a warning look. “And do not embarrass me again.”
Rolling her eyes, she took the money. “Fine.” She pushed to the front, getting there faster than I ever could. I couldn’t help noticing how much she used her elbows. I’m sure she never dropped a pitcher.
I hung back as Emerson leaned against the bar, holding up her money, the universal sign that she needed service. A few moments passed before he turned his attention her way.
When he saw it was her, his gaze skipped around, like he was looking for someone. My breath locked in my windpipe as his gaze landed on me. It was a split second, just enough to register my presence. Nothing more. No sign that he even remembered me.
He looked back at Emerson, inclining his head, communicating for her to go ahead and order. She waved her hands, obviously talking. She always talked with her hands.
Nodding, he turned to fetch the beer. I waited for his return, my breathing irregular. He handed her the pitchers, took her money, and returned her change. All without looking at me.
Disappointment flashed through me. I’d thought I’d get another glance, and then . . .
I exhaled. I didn’t know what then. I dragged a hand through my hair. My fingers caught in the thick mass, and I gave up, pulling my fingers free.
I didn’t know what I was doing here. Trying to be something I wasn’t so I could catch Hunter’s notice? I was kidding myself. If he hadn’t noticed me in all these years, why would that change now?
By the time Emerson reached me, I was feeling more foolish than ever before. And she must have seen some of what I was feeling on my face.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded.
I shook my head. “This is just crazy. I really don’t want to be here. Not again. I’m gonna head back—”
“Aw, Pepper, c’mon.” She stomped her foot, her pert features screwing tight in frustration. “Don’t go.”
“You stay. Ride back with Suzanne.” I edged backward in the crowd. A curse rang in my ear as I stepped on someone’s foot.
“Wait. I’ll go with you.” She looked around, searching for somewhere to leave the pitchers she held.
“No. It’s okay, really. I have a statistics exam on Monday anyway. I should go, and don’t give me that look. This is more than I’ve gone out in like . . . ever.”
She blew out a breath, nodding. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll see you later.”
I fluttered my fingers in a little wave and turned, pushing my way through the squeeze of bodies until I was outside. I lifted my face to the crisp fall air and sucked in a breath like I’d just emerged from a deep icy pool.
Walking through the parking lot, the soles of my boots crunched over the loose gravel. I almost turned back around when I remembered the burger I had wanted. Instead, I continued walking, thinking which drive-through I wanted to hit on the way back to the dorm. I was contemplating chicken strips and Tater Tots when a hand fell on my shoulder.
With a shriek, I whirled around, my fist instinctively flying, lashing out, making contact. My knuckles grazed off a shoulder.
“Whoa. Easy there.” Reece stood there, holding one hand up in the air while his other hand rubbed at the top of his shoulder where I’d struck him.
I covered my mouth with both hands. My words escaped muffled. “OhmyGod! I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I should have called out. Good reflexes. But you should work on your aim.”
My hands fell from my face slowly.
I stared at him, still trying to comprehend that he was here. In front of me. It was strange seeing him out of his element. Other than that first time, I’d only ever seen him inside Mulvaney’s. Here, outside, he seemed bigger, larger than life.
My head cocked to the side. “Are you”—I waved a finger between him and me —“following me?”
“I saw you leave.”
“So. That’s a yes.”
He was watching me? He noticed me. I wasn’t invisible after all.
He continued, “Look, you shouldn’t be out here alone at night. Guys get a few drinks in them, see a pretty girl walking by herself . . .” His voice faded away, his implication clear.
I only heard one thing. Pretty.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he finished.
“Thanks.” I turned in the direction of my car. He fell in step beside me.
I slid him a long look. Without the distance of the bar top between us, I was fully aware of his height. I was no tiny thing like Emerson, and the top of my head barely reached his chin. He had to be a few inches over six feet. It was a new experience—feeling delicate and petite.
“I hope you don’t get in trouble for leaving the bar. Are you on a break?”
“It’ll be fine.”
I was conscious of his arm, so close to mine as we walked. He slid one hand into his front jeans pocket.
“You’re leaving early,” he noted.
“Yeah.” Silence fell. Feeling a need to fill it, I added, “Not feeling it tonight.” At least I wasn’t before. Now I was feeling it. I was feeling everything. His body beside mine radiated heat. My every nerve vibrated like a plucked wire, achingly aware of him. We weren’t even touching, but it was like I felt him everywhere. It was a shock I could even talk in a steady voice.
“Not feeling it tonight,” he echoed, his voice low. There was amusement in his voice even though he didn’t come right out and laugh. He dropped his head back and looked up at the stars. A slow smiled curved his mouth.
“What’s so funny?”
“Just thinking about that.”
“What?”
He looked back down. “I can’t count the nights I’m not ‘feeling it,’ but I still have to be there.”
Have to. Interesting choice of words. “You don’t like your job?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes I do.”
“Are you a student, too?”
“Nope.”
“Did you graduate already?”
“Just high school.”
So working the bar was all there was for him. Again, there was that stab of disappointment. Which was not only judgmental of me but absurd. I wasn’t considering this guy for a boyfriend or lifelong partner material. I shouldn’t feel anything at his lack of ambition.
He continued. “You in college?”
I nodded.
“Let me guess. Dartford?” There were three universities in the area, but Dartford had the most prestigious reputation.
“Yes.”
“Thought so. You’ve got ‘Ivy’ written all over you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You look sweet and nice. Smart.” We were almost to my car when he added, “And you’re not a regular, but you’ve been here three nights in a row.” Not a question. Just a statement.
Again, that he was aware of me made me go all warm and fuzzy inside. “My friend, Emerson, comes here a lot. You’ve probably seen her before. She’s hard to miss.” He neither confirmed nor denied this. “She invited me along. I don’t do the bar scene all that much.”
“So you’ve decided to start living the college experience in full then. Is that it? Last night didn’t scare you off?”