He snickered, handing me the Long Island. “Every woman but you?”
“What’s the point?” I shrugged. “First, he’s an ass. Second, he wouldn’t have any interest in me anyway, so why bother making an idiot of myself?”
“Honey, you are beautiful and sexy. I wish you could see that for yourself. You get my regulars all riled up when you come in here.”
“Yeah, well…” I trailed off. There was no response to give.
John left to tend to some other customers, leaving me sipping on my drink and contemplating a game on the TV screen in front of me. The sound of the door opening wasn’t uncommon, but the shiver that ran down my spine was not normal.
“Can I get a Dos Equis?” The newcomer asked.
I didn’t need to turn to know who it was, nor to know he was looking at me. I was too tired and too tipsy to care.
“Palmer?” I knew he was smirking, just by the tone he used. Jesus, I couldn’t deal with him tonight.
Could I not think about him for five minutes? He had to be a drunken illusion, even though I’d had little to drink. There was no reason why he would be at my local dive bar.
I tilted my head toward him, his reliable smirk the first thing to greet me. Okay, not an illusion. “Thorne.”
He brushed off my attitude. “What brings you here?”
“I’m here every Friday. Why are you here?”
“I needed a drink. I just spent the last hour trying to lose Kelly. I think she was trying to find out where I live.”
“And of course you had to land in my bar.” I huffed.
“Does it have your name on it?”
“Here you go,” John interrupted, setting a bottle down in front of Nathan. “Wanna keep a tab?”
“Sounds good.”
John smiled at me. “Lila, you good?”
Crap. He was going to give me shit about Nathan the next time I was in.
“One more.”
John nodded and went to make my second Long Island, leaving me once again with the asshole.
“Lila?” Nathan leaned his arm against the bar.
“Short for Delilah.” My tone was clipped.
“I’ve never heard anyone call you that nickname.”
“Only Caroline at the office does. Delilah is more professional, so only my friends call me Lila.” I hoped that would be enough to sate his curiosity.
It seemed to, because that was where the conversation stopped. I was not in the mood to talk. All I wanted to do was drink, then crash. I was exhausted, and tired to the point of tears.
Sleep called to me; the need to shut out the world and turn off my brain. He made no move to speak as we sat next to one another. The feeling that we were in the same boat came over me as we stared at the screen in front of us. There seemed to be a weird tingling, an almost buzzing sensation, crossing between us. I wondered if he felt it too, or if my tipsy brain was imagining it.
An hour later – after I downed my second Long Island – I was ready to go home. I paid my tab, said goodnight to John, and told Nathan I’d see him on Monday, before I stepped out into the cold early-March air.
After I had walked a couple of blocks, I noticed the sound of footsteps following me. I turned to find Nathan about thirty feet behind me.
“Are you stalking me now, Thorne?” I turned back around before I became dizzy, fell down, and embarrassed myself.
“You wish, Palmer. I’m headed home myself, and making sure you get home all right in your drunken state. Last thing I need is to be implicated because your drunk ass was last seen with me before you disappeared or wound up dead.”
“I can take care of myself; don’t worry your pretty little head.” I walked up to the door of the fifteen story luxury condo building I lived in. “Well, I’m home, so off you go.”
He followed me in anyway, and I lucked out that an elevator was waiting in the lobby. I waved hello to Mike, the night guard, and walked in. When I turned to press the button, Nathan was entering as well.
“Seriously, Thorne, you can go home now.”