I head back to the bar to get their drinks, an easy order. Most of the guys want beer; a couple of the girls want wine. My mystery girl wants a lemon drop martini. I tell myself that the fact that I remember it’s her drink from the night before makes me an attentive bartender, not a stalker worthy of my almost sex-offender label.
“Well?” Brittany asks.
“Well, what?” my irritation is real this time, though it’s not necessarily directed at her. More because I don’t know a goddamn thing about Alexa other than she’s working for the charity and that her electric blue eyes are hypnotic.
Brittany laughs. “Never in a million years would I have thought some random girl could do this to you, Benjamin.”
“Fuck off, Britt.”
She laughs again and walks away to wait on a customer.
I understand why she’s so amused. I’ve worked here for almost three months, and until now, the only interest I’ve shown in a customer is in how much I can get her to tip me. Tonight I’ve expressed an interest in two.
I need to get my shit together.
Chapter Six
Lexi
I’m more nervous than I care to admit. Rob wasn’t particularly attentive at the theater tonight, but as soon as we walked out the doors, he snagged my hand and let me know that we were together. Although I was the one who flirted with him last night, I now worry that Rob will expect more than I plan to deliver.
He leans into my ear. “Relax, Lexi. I won’t bite.” Then he grins. “Not unless you ask.”
My breath sucks in and the bartender from the night before returns with our drinks. I tried not to pay him more attention than necessary when he took our order—I’m a bit embarrassed about how much I told him about the program last night—but I turn to him now, when I glance up at him now, he’s looking directly at me.
I flush and I tell myself that it’s because the room is warm then force myself to turn away. Our group rehashes the night’s performance as the bartender finishes handing out our drinks. They talk about getting together to put on a play this summer, but we all know it’s unlikely we’ll do it, even if we ignore the fact.
Several people get up to dance, but Rob doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to join them. Our new semi-privacy encourages me to take the offensive and let him know where I stand. “Rob, I know I was the one to come on to you, but I’m not the kind of girl you usually go for.”
His eyes dance with amusement. “And what kind of girl is that?”
My face heats up and I stammer, trying to figure out what to say and not insult him.
He laughs. “Relax. You’re right. You’re not my usual type. Maybe that’s why I’m interested. I just want to have some fun tonight.”
“I’m not that kind of girl, Rob.” I cringe as the words leave my mouth. I sound like I’ve come straight out of the 1950s.
“I promise that I’m not trying to get laid tonight, Lexi.” He picks up my drink and presses it into my hand.
My eyes widen at his bluntness.
“Hey.” He shrugs. “I know I have a reputation. That’s why I wanted to put it out there. I figured that if you’re not worried about me trying to score with you, you might relax a bit. You’re always so intense.”
“Rob.” Now I feel like an idiot.
He grabs my hand and lifts the glass. “Drink.”
I laugh, even though he’s being bossy. I take a generous sip of the drink. “Happy now?”
“Not yet, but the night is young and so are you. So let’s have some fun.” He takes a long drag from his bottle of beer, then lowers it to the table.
Let go and have fun. It’s what everyone around me is doing; it’s what everyone wants me to do. My therapist is constantly telling me to ease up. While she’ll be happy that I’m out and interacting in the world, I suspect getting drunk isn’t on her list of recommended life choices. Still, Caroline is always harping on about how I need to have a full college experience, and we all know that getting drunk is pretty high on that list.
We talk for several minutes and before I realize it, my drink is gone.
“I’ll be right back,” Rob says as he stands then heads to the bar.
When he returns with our drinks, I ask him to tell me about himself. He’s attending a community college about twenty miles away, getting perquisites to transfer to the University of Tennessee in Knoxville while working as a waiter.
“You should be an actor, Rob,” I say, feeling the effects of the first drink. Since my first drink in months was last night, the alcohol has gone straight to my head.
“I thought that’s what I was doing in your play, little Lexi.” He taps my nose.
“No, for real. In New York or in Hollywood. You’re really good.”
His gaze lands on my mouth before lifting to my eyes. “You’re really good too.”
I’m not sure what he means. I know the delivery of my line was passable at best, but my head is getting too fuzzy to give much thought to his comment. I turn toward the band and watch the couples gliding around on the dance floor. “You said I need to have fun, and I want to dance.”
He gives a laugh and stands, extending his hand. “Whatever the lady wants.”
Once I’m out of my chair, I pull him onto the dance floor. It’s a fast song and I start moving to the beat. Rob watches me with an amused grin before joining in. We dance for two songs and I’m just getting warmed up when the band changes to a ballad.