sister needs to be a little more discerning when it comes to picking men for you.”
Her eyes flew wide. “No. She needs to stop picking men for me at all. I can pick my own damn man if and when I want one.”
“I agree.”
She evaluated him. “Do you agree or are you just humoring me?”
He let out a laugh. “I don’t know you well enough to bother humoring you so yes, I actually do agree.”
“I find your honesty as refreshing as it is borderline insulting.”
“Funny. That’s pretty much how I feel about you.”
She cocked her head to one side. “I can accept that.”
He lifted his beer mug to her in a toast. She reciprocated with the last swallow of her own beer, which she hadn’t finished before, given all the excitement.
“Can I buy you another?” He eyed her empty glass as she set it down on the bar.
She considered the offer.
When she hadn’t answered him yet, he smiled, putting his dimple on display, front and center, right where she couldn’t ignore it. “It’s not that hard of a question. A yes or no will do.”
She still couldn’t decide. She had given up men. Accepting a beer from this man was completely against her self-imposed hiatus.
He let out a laugh and turned toward the bar. “Ray! When you get a chance. Another Salty Crew for me. And . . .” He glanced at her, the question in his expression.
She noticed his buddies had left. Maybe he just didn’t want to drink alone. That was an innocent enough reason. It could mean nothing more than that. She gave in. What could one beer hurt?
“An Orange Avenue Wit, please. Thank you.”
His brows rose. He ordered the beer and turned back to her. “Coronado Brewing Company. I’m impressed.”
“Are you?” She sniffed out a laugh. “Why?”
“I figured you’d be more of a Corona Lite type girl.”
“And I took you for a Budweiser man rather than a So-Cal local brewery type guy, so we were both wrong.”
“I guess so.” He nodded. “I’m Brian, by the way.”
“Alicia,” she replied as this felt more and more like a date, or at least a pick-up. Just when she didn’t want it to be either.
She contemplated that, and him, as she watched Brian pay the bartender for the beer before he turned to hand one to her.
“You’re staring,” he said.
“No. I was thinking,” she clarified.
“Ah. And what were you thinking about?” he asked, looking genuinely interested.
She had been thinking how she’d jumped from the pan into the fire with this guy. She’d gotten rid of Andrew but then fell right into having a drink with Brian, who was just as much of a controlling alpha male as Andrew.
Granted, Brian was far better-looking but that didn’t matter. At least it shouldn’t . . .
She blamed her sister for her confusion.
Jen had blindsided her with Andrew. It had completely thrown her. She wasn’t thinking clearly.
She realized Brian was still watching her, waiting for an answer to the question, what had she been thinking about as she stared at him.
“I was thinking how much you and Andrew are alike.”
Brian drew back. “Damn. That’s pretty insulting.”
“Really? I didn’t mean it to be.”
“How can it not be?” he asked with a laugh.
“I just meant that you’re both uber alpha males. Both overtly aggressive. But there’s subtle differences that make your male dominance more socially acceptable than his.”
He mumbled an obscenity before saying, “What are you, some kind of psychiatrist or something?”
“Psychologist,” she corrected.
He rolled his eyes. “Great.”
“What have you got against those in the psychology profession?” she asked.
“Nothing. As long as they stay out of my life.” He shook his head. “And there’s one huge difference between me and him.”
“What’s that?” she asked, interested.
“He uses his size to intimidate. I use mine to defend.”
She considered that. “I don’t like to encourage any kind of he-man behavior, but I do have to admit I agree with what you said about his motivation. And, I suppose, yours too.”
“Do you?” He looked surprised.
“Yes . . . and I’m not humoring you either.”
He smirked, making the dimple in his chin look deep enough for her to fall into.
“Even though I didn’t need defending,” she added.
“Perhaps not. But some do. And I help them, if I can.”
“So, it’s not the brute force itself, but the intent, that matters.”
“Did you just call me a brute?” he asked.
“Not at all.” She narrowed her eyes and mulled over her newest theory. “It would make an interesting study. Take two groups of men. Both