Manfax (Winter Brothers #2) - Jacob Chance Page 0,22
starved?
It has been a while, but that’s no excuse. I’m acting like I’m in college and the hot jock is paying me some attention. And since I’ve never been that kind of girl, and I refuse to start at thirty-five, I need to get a grip on my thoughts.
I’m a strong, self-sufficient woman, dammit. I don’t need attention from an attractive man—okay make that a smokin’ hot man—to make me feel good about myself.
He lifts one thick eyebrow. “What are you thinking about?”
“Oh, sorry.” I laugh. “My mind kind of wandered there for a bit.” I evade answering his question.
“Yeah, I could tell. What were you thinking about?”
Crap. Why can’t he let it go? “If you must know, I was thinking about some work issues I need to take care of when I get back to Boston.” Good one, Roxanne.
“You’ll be at work soon enough. Don’t waste your vacation thinking about the future. The present is what matters.”
“Is that your philosophy on life?”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it my personal philosophy; I’m not sure I really have one. But I think it’s important to enjoy each moment. Once they’re gone, we can’t get them back.”
“That’s true.” As much as the contrary part of me wishes I could disagree with what he said, I can’t. He made perfect sense and even sounded eloquent while doing so. I become cognizant of how disengaged Adam and I have been from our friends since we sat down at the table. They’ve faded into the background. In fact, for a few minutes, I forgot they were with us.
My eyes glide around to our companions, noticing we’re not the only disconnected ones. Rex and Dani can barely keep their lips apart from one another and Vi is still checking out the menu.
“You don’t like your martini?” Adam asks, pulling my attention back to him.
“I like it just fine. I’m pacing myself.”
“Gotcha, hangovers suck.”
“They do. I can’t remember the last time I had one.”
“Don’t tell me that, or I might take it as a personal challenge to get you drunk.”
“What purpose would that serve?” I question.
“People are less inhibited when alcohol is involved.”
“Not me.”
“Are you purposely waving a red cape in front of me?”
“You’re not a bull, so I think I’ll be okay.”
“What if I told you I have a bull tattoo on my calf?”
“But you don’t.”
“But I do.” His masculine lips slowly part, revealing straight, white teeth.
I scrunch my nose as I try to picture his legs. “How did I not notice?”
“So, Rocky, does this mean you’re admitting you’ve been checking me out?”
And just like that, the companionable bubble we’ve been coexisting in pops. Why must he push my buttons at every opportunity?
“Don’t be delusional. Calf tattoos are hard to miss. Is it on the back of your calf or the side?”
“What does it matter?” he asks.
“I don’t like them on the back of men’s calves. It’s something I associate with females.”
“Well, mine’s on the outside, upper area. I guess I’m only three or four inches from being considered a girl.”
I snort. “Only three or four inches? That’s what she said.” He chuckles good naturedly, and I imagine it’s because he’s so confident in his masculinity. In his dick size. My dirty-minded subconscious whispers.
Adam nudges my arm with his. “You know, I’m going to have to debunk your back calf theory. Haven’t you ever seen George St.Pierre’s fleur de lis tattoo? He’s an MMA legend.”
“Nope, can’t say I have. Why are you making an issue out of this anyway?”
“Maybe I find verbally sparring with you to be stimulating.” He wiggles his eyebrows lecherously.
“Is there anything you don’t find stimulating? I think you’re in a perpetual horndog state.”
He barks out a laugh, drawing all the eyes around the table to us. He carelessly raises his wide shoulders in a shrug and tips his head in my direction. “Don’t mind me. Rocky’s hilarious,” he addresses our tablemates.
Dani catches my gaze, a knowing smirk twisting her pink lips, and I know I’m going to be cornered by her at some point tonight for details.
“She sure is,” she replies, looking all sorts of smug.
I turn my head away before I start to squirm under the weight of her stare. Shifting away from Adam, I straighten, pressing my spine against the unyielding wooden chair back.
Our waitress appears beside our table to take our orders, removing the focus from myself and the handsome guy next to me. By the time she leaves, Adam and Rex are engaging in some