“Too bad we couldn’t arrest him. I would have liked to throw him in a cell,” Luke said. “Him and all his belligerent friends.”
Will nodded. “Fortunately for them, one of the guys was sober, and he piled them all in the car and promised us he was going to take them all home.”
“Yeah, let’s hope they don’t end up hitting another bar tonight,” Megan said. “What idiots.”
Emma checked her phone. “And it’s still early, too. Not even eight thirty. I wonder what time they got started on the drinking today?”
One of the waitresses set a fresh martini in front of Chelsea. “Bash said these are all on the house for you tonight. Whatever you’d like.”
Chelsea beamed at the waitress. “Thank you.”
The guys went to shoot some pool, so all the women scooted their chairs over.
“Okay, so let’s talk about Bash,” Emma said.
“Clearly the reason you and Dell didn’t hit it off.”
Chelsea looked over at Molly. “But I liked Dell.”
“I know you did, Chelsea, but there’s something going on between you and Bash. A woman—any woman—would have to be blind not to see it.”
“And none of us are blind,” Samantha said.
Chelsea shook her head. “There’s nothing going on with Bash and me.”
“Are you sure about that?” Megan asked. “Because he’s tending bar with one eye and has the other firmly fixed on you.”
She didn’t want to look. She didn’t have to look, because she felt the heat of his gaze like a caress on her skin.
So, instead, she took a long drink of her martini, which of course had been made perfectly. Just the way she liked it. Dirty, with three olives. He knew what she liked. She’d bet he’d know everything she liked. Dirty or otherwise.
“Are you all right, Chelsea?” Megan asked. “Because your cheeks are pink.”
Even from across the room the man affected her. It was uncanny and downright annoying. She put her cool hands up to her hot face. “No, I’m fine. It’s just a little warm in here.”
“When are you going to stop denying how you feel about Bash and do something about it?” Emma asked.
She slanted her gaze at her best friend. “He’s all wrong for me.”
Emma shrugged. “So? Sometimes all wrong can be oh so right.”
“He meets none of the criteria on my list.”
“But I’d bet he’d be fun in bed.”
Chelsea’s eyes widened as she looked at Jane.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Jane asked, then slapped her hands over her mouth.
Samantha laughed and dragged Jane’s hands away from her mouth. “You only said what the rest of us are thinking. So you haven’t found your perfect man yet, Chelsea. You keep looking for him, and maybe have some fun with Bash in the meantime?”
She shifted her focus onto Bash. Fortunately, he was busy filling drink orders, and didn’t see that she couldn’t help but notice how utterly amazing he looked tonight. He wore a black polo shirt that fit tight against his oh-so-fine chest. A chest she wanted to touch without the shirt being present.
“Okay, so maybe I might want to get him naked.”
“Finally we’re getting to some fun truths,” Molly said.
She downed the contents of her martini, then fished the olives out of the glass and feasted on them while she pondered her options regarding Bash.
“You’re considering it, aren’t you?” Emma asked.
“I might be. He’s not a forever kind of guy, or even a dating kind of guy. But a between-the-sheets kind of guy? Yeah, definitely.”
“Now you’re talking. If anyone needs to have some fun, Chelsea, it’s you,” Megan said.
She took a deep breath and sighed. They were right about that. She couldn’t even count the number of first dates she’d been on. Though lately she could—three. With no result. She was so damn tired of … dating. She wanted something different.
She wanted a relationship and she wasn’t having one, so what was wrong with at least having a good time while she was waiting for the right guy to come along?
The waitress delivered another martini and Chelsea took a long swallow of it, then played with the stick holding the olives, her attention drawn to Bash, who must have felt those sexual psychic vibes she was throwing out, because he lifted his attention from the bar and leveled his gaze on her.
She could feel him—his touch—all the way across the room. She didn’t have that with anyone else and hadn’t felt anything like it in so long. That promise of something sensual, something so spectacular she’d be a fool to pass it up.
Okay, so … maybe. She’d think about it.
She turned her attention to her friends, but Bash stayed in her mind the rest of the night.
They all had a great time hanging out until well after midnight. And when she got home and changed into her yoga pants and tank top, Bash was still there in her head. So much so that she felt unsettled and jittery and, despite the two martinis she’d had earlier in the night, not at all relaxed and ready for bed.
Maybe she should have had more to drink. But then Luke or Will would have had to drive her home, and that would have been a logistical nightmare. She liked her independence too much and didn’t want to rely on other people. So she’d switched to soda after the two martinis and driven herself home.