The Best of Winter Renshaw - An 8 Book Collection - Winter Renshaw Page 0,207

I look like the pathetic one here.

“Eye fucking? Is that what you kids are calling it these days?” I ask, and she rolls her eyes, swatting my arm. “I could have sworn you were glaring. I had no idea you were trying to be sexy.”

“Anyway.” She eyes the restroom sign, like she’s expecting Allison to emerge any moment. “Just wanted to be the bigger person and come and say hi.”

“Don’t commend yourself just yet. I was about to make my way over there. Wanted to finish my drink first.”

“Mm, hm.” She fights a smile, and I expect her to give me shit about my “date” any second now, and I’m going to take great pleasure in proving her wrong. “Alrighty, take care now.”

Ayla gives a quick wave before returning to her friend, and they seem to pick up their conversation exactly where they left off. They aren’t pointing or looking at me or pretending not to talk about me when it’s clear they are.

I’m completely off her radar.

She couldn’t care less.

I’m not an insecure man by any stretch of the imagination. I’m not a man who generally gives a shit about what other people think or a man who judges his sexual prowess on how many girls can’t keep their hands off him in any given month. But I’ll be damned if my ego isn’t slightly bruised right now.

Was that ... was that a pity fuck this morning?

I drag my hands through my hair. Jesus. I bet she knows who I am. I bet she knows all about what happened. And I bet she only fucked me because she felt bad for me.

“Everything okay?” Allison is back. Her eyes are a little less glazed, her spirit a little brighter as evidenced by the slow smile on her face. “These drinks are starting to kick in. Guess this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

“Allison, give me a second. I’ll be right back.”

“Of course.” She offers a gracious smile and lifts her glass to her mouth.

Within seconds I’m halfway across the bar, laser focused on my target.

Ten

Ayla

* * *

“Ayla.” His voice severs our girl talk and causes Bostyn to scowl.

Spinning to face him, I try not to gloat because something about this feels like a victory. He’s coming to me. He’s chasing me. He wants me.

“Yes?” I ask.

He hooks his hand into my elbow and pulls me off the bar stool like some Neanderthal, leading me to a quiet corner of the bar between two empty tables with flickering candles.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“That was a pity fuck this morning, wasn’t it?” he asks.

I chuff. “I don’t screw people out of pity, so no. It wasn’t a pity fuck.”

He studies my face. I think my answer pleases him.

“Is that all this is about?” I ask.

Rhett exhales. Apparently the cat’s got his tongue.

“I want to see you again,” he says after a bout of silence.

My eyes move to the mousy girl sitting across the bar nursing a lemon drop martini, and my jaw hinges.

“Seriously?” I ask, arms folding. “You just left your date over there by herself so you could march over here and tell me you want to fuck me again ... and you expect me to say yes to that?”

His full mouth turns up at one side and he laughs through his nose. “I’m not on a date.”

Rolling my eyes, I say, “Sure. Whatever you say. But I’m not going to hook up with you again, so don’t waste your time.”

“She’s my assistant,” he says, his words colored in frustration. “She just got dumped. I’m taking her out for drinks, getting her wasted, and giving her the next couple of days off.”

“Oh.” I glance her way again. I’ve yet to see her face since I’ve been here, but I vaguely recall bumping into a girl similar in size this morning when I was dropping off his phone charger.

“Right.” He blows a firm breath through his nostrils. “Anyway, like I was saying, I want to see you again.”

“Why?”

He laughs. “You’re asking why?”

“Yes. Why?”

“What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”

“I’m not looking for a boyfriend,” I blurt.

“I’m not looking to be anybody’s boyfriend.”

“Then what do you want from me?”

He moves closer, closing the space between us and just barely cupping his hand to my cheek.

“I had fun with you this morning,” he says, letting his hand fall. “I’m just looking for a little more of ... that.”

“So you want a fuck buddy.”

“Something like that. Yes,” he says. “No