Knocking Boots - Willow Winters Page 0,15
my mouth is even hanging open a little, but I honestly can’t help it.
Alarm bells are going off in my head, telling me to get out, right now. He is nothing like the person I’ve been talking to.
“How about a drink?” Jason suggests. I could use about a dozen right now to settle down, but my legs feel like Jell-O.
I picture Charlie, my stool, a cool glass of something he whipped up for me.
Oh, my gosh, I blink away my crazy. Pining after Charlie is literally insane.
“Um, okay,” I say, reaching for the menu so I can order the special I wanted and pretend like I’m not hung up on someone so unavailable.
“No no,” he says playfully. “I’ll pick something you’ll love. I’m kind of a craft beer aficionado.” He grabs the menu, taking a seat at the bar before turning back to me with a charming smile and saying, “And I’m really good at guessing what people like.”
“Oh. Well okay.”
I try to talk myself out of the obnoxious first impression I got, after all, Charlie makes me surprise drinks all the time. And there I go again… what is wrong with me?
The drink I was eyeing up was something called a Burial Shadow Clock, but maybe he'll know that. Or maybe he’ll introduce me to something I didn’t know I liked. That thought eases me and I find myself smiling. I take another peek at Jason but find myself comparing his smooth jaw to Charlie’s stubbled one and suddenly I need that drink right this second.
I let out a bit of the tension in my body and take a seat next to him. Staying positive is my main goal. Jason’s not quite how I thought he’d be, but I’m sure the same is true for him.
He skims the menu, then calls the bartender over, ordering two stouts. The bartender asks him whether it’ll be cash or card, and Jason looks to me.
“What’ll it be?” he asks.
“Oh! Uhh… Visa, please.” My cheeks heat with embarrassment.
I turn and get my wallet from my purse, fumbling to get my credit card to start a tab. I already paid for the first glass and stare at the empty glass, wishing it was full again. The tight smile stays on my face as I hand it to the same bartender as before. It’s only when the man side-eyes Jason that I realize he’s not reaching for his card. Jason taps his hands on the bar top and looks past the bartender to the television screens behind him.
The bartender gives me a dubious look, then goes to run the card. Shake off the unease. It’s fine. I’ll get the drinks and I bet he’ll get dinner. Maybe that’s the way it works normally? Or maybe… maybe he’s thinking something else, I don’t know.
Shifting uncomfortably on the stool, I try to shake it off. I’m a little more than put out that Jason assumed I could pay for his beer as I watch the bartender pour it, but unsure how to say so. I glance at him, biting down on my lip, and he smirks.
“I like to let the woman pick up the first tab,” he says. “Not that I can’t buy a drink. It’s just, you know, figure out if they’re gold diggers, you know?”
Gold digger? One drink. No dinner with this guy unless things change around tremendously. Making myself that promise I glance between the second pint the bartender is filling and my date.
Jason stares at me expectantly, like he really wants a response to his comment. My lips curl down into a partial frown as I offer, “We could have split the check.”
“Yeah, but I want a woman who earns, you know what I mean? A woman who knows how to be aggressive about what she wants.”
I’m a little flabbergasted at that, and I know it shows on my face. Luckily the bartender shows up at that moment, setting two dark beers down in front of us.
This has got to be new-date-jitters. I couldn’t have been so wrong about this guy.
“Oh,” I say, looking at the beer’s dark chocolate color. It reminds me a bit of chocolate milk for some reason. I don’t normally drink beer, but when I do, I’m a pale ale kind of girl. Feeling my stress level climb higher and higher, I purse my lips a little and wonder what I’m doing here.
“What’s wrong?” Jason asks, drawing my attention to him.
Oh so much is wrong, but I stick with