Sophie Jordan - Tease

I scanned the room surreptitiously throughout the next few songs, nursing my third beer. I’d learned long ago if you made eye contact a guy took it as an invitation. So I didn’t make eye contact unless I was issuing an invitation, and there wouldn’t be any of that tonight. Not here anyway.

Not even when I spotted him .

Holy hotness . A little shiver blew through me as I watched him from under my lashes, careful not to ogle. I drank more, as if that would kill the sudden awareness that shot through me. He was one of the youngest guys in the place, but still older than me. Probably early twenties. He greeted several people with nods and waves, a couple of slaps on the back. My gaze slid over him appreciatively as I drank. The alcohol wasn’t helping. I squirmed a little in my chair, everything inside me suddenly humming and alive.

I couldn’t stop myself. Couldn’t look away. He was too good-looking. In an edgy-can’t-be-tamed kind of way. In other words—not my type. Still. Looking never hurt. As long as he didn’t know I was checking him out.

Propping my chin in my palm, I lifted my drink and finished off another cup. I was definitely feeling good now. A heady euphoria wrapped around me as I checked him out.

He wore a leather biker’s jacket, slim-lined and well worn at the seams and elbows. Denim covered his long legs, a chain looping from the front of his jeans around to the back. Biker boots carried him across the bar. Even in all that clothing, he looked built.

His face was flushed and wind-chapped from the cold. His hair looked deliciously windblown. The kind of artfully wild mess—longer on the top and cropped shorter on the sides—so many guys on campus spent a long time trying to perfect. And yet I doubted he did more than run his hands through his hair when he got out of bed. He looked at home here as he settled on a stool in front of the long stretch of bar.

The bartender, an older woman with implausible red hair that bordered on purple, leaned across the counter and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Yeah. A definite regular. Just further confirmation that I should stop staring before he noticed me.

Annie elbowed me. “Take a picture, why don’t you?”

I tore my attention away and shrugged. “He’s cute.” I hiccupped. Ugh. Beer always gave me hiccups. An unfortunate side effect.

Did I say cute? Not cute. Sexy hot .

“So what are you waiting for?”

I arched an eyebrow at her.

“C’mon. It wouldn’t be a Friday night without you hooking up with someone, right?”

I glared at her. Even if there was some truth to what she was saying. Her lip was curled like she was looking at something gross on the bottom of her shoe. Funny considering she was hardly an example of sexual restraint.

“I need to use the restroom.” I hesitated, expecting her to stand and join me. I didn’t really want to walk around alone in here, but she didn’t move. Of course not. She wasn’t like Georgia or Pepper, who would insist on sticking together in a place like this. Hell, they would stick close to me in one of our usual hangouts. They were good girls. The best friends I’ve ever had. I was lucky to have them. Stuck with Annie tonight, that was painfully clear.

I pushed up from the table with a sigh. The room swayed for a bit and I steadied my hands on the table to get my balance. “I’ll be back.”

Focusing on the neon restroom sign, I tried to walk in a straight line. I mostly achieved this. I think. Ignoring crude catcalls, I made it to the restroom without incident. Two other women stood in front of the mirror applying lipstick.

One froze as I entered, holding the red tube over her lips. “Oh, honey. I think you’re lost. You shouldn’t be here.”

That about summed it up. I nodded and the action made me dizzy, so I stopped and closed my eyes in a long blink. Opening my eyes, I admitted, “I might have taken a wrong turn.” A wrong turn that started with getting into Annie’s car tonight.

The second woman turned to assess me in my skinny jeans and sweater. “If I were you I’d get back in your car and find the nearest TGI Friday’s.” She wagged a finger. “This is no place for you. It gets pretty rowdy as the night wears on.” She glanced at the invisible watch on her wrist. “You got maybe one more hour.”

“Thanks. I’m not staying much longer.” At least I hoped not. Determined to convince Annie that we really should go, I used the restroom and washed my hands.

Emerging from the bathroom, I jerked to a stop at the sight of a couple stumbling down the narrow hall. The guy had one hand buried under the woman’s skirt, exposing her thong.

I blinked several times as if the action would clear my vision. The man hefted her against him, wrapping one of her legs around his waist as they fell into the wall. Her leg jutted out into the narrow hall, blocking me. My God. They were going to have sex right here outside the bathrooms.

They were flailing around so much, her legs scissoring the air. I couldn’t pass them. Not without risking getting crushed into the wall or impaled by one of her lethal-looking heels. And my reflexes probably weren’t the best right now. Not after four beers. Or was it five?

I eyed the pair, contemplating my move. And that’s when I noticed him on the other side of the couple. To be accurate, that’s when I noticed him noticing me .

He didn’t seem aware of the couple between us. He was looking directly at me. His gaze slid over me. There was nothing subtle about it. He surveyed me thoroughly, from head to toe. Like he didn’t quite know what to make of me. And I’m sure he didn’t. I wasn’t typical of Maisie’s clientele. Not in my black knee-high boots, jeans, and purple cashmere sweater. And not with the diamond studs in my ears that Dad bought me because he felt guilty about leaving me alone for Christmas while he took his girlfriend to Barbados. At least he spent New Year’s with me. I ignored the whisper reminding me that he only did that because he broke up with his girlfriend the moment they got back from Barbados.

The guy’s eyes settled on my face, and I could see they were a warm, deep brown. He looked even hotter up close. And taller than he had from across the room. Just barely over five feet, it didn’t take much for me to feel smaller than everyone else—especially guys—but the top of my head would barely reach Biker Boy’s shoulder.

And then I squashed that thought because it would never matter. There would never be a moment where I would stand close enough to him to find out firsthand. I wasn’t stupid enough to get tangled up with the likes of him.

Realizing I was checking him out just as much as he was checking me out, I quickly broke eye contact. Heat crawled over my already overly warm face. Even not looking at him, I could feel his stare. We stood there, the couple making out between us with their distracting groans and pants, and I tried to pretend that this wasn’t awkward. That I wasn’t buzzing and unsteady on my feet and ripe for seduction from a guy who looked like him.

I took another glance. It was impossible not to look at him again.

He didn’t quite smile, but there was definitely a glint of humor in his eyes. His gaze flicked back to the couple and then to me again. He was amused. I compressed my lips, determined not to engage with him. I didn’t need to give him the wrong idea about me. Like I might be the kind of girl into hot biker boys.

Seeing an opening, I made a break for it. Squeezing past the gyrating couple, I darted forward clumsily on my heeled boots. Biker Boy turned sideways, looking down at me as our bodies came flush with each other. Fortunately the hall was wide enough that we didn’t actually touch. Thank God. A few inches separated us, but that didn’t stop me from noting that, yes, the top of my head barely cleared his shoulder. He was seriously tall. And if I wasn’t already drunk, standing this close to him would make me feel like I was.