I wince back. “So nineties, don’t you think?”
“How about the buffalo wings?”
“If you want to set your mouth on permanent fire. Listen.” I glance around, making sure no one—as in my boss—is nearby. “If you want something to eat, I suggest the café down the street. They have great sandwiches.”
He laughs and shakes his head. The rich, vibrant sound washes over me, warming my skin, followed quickly by a huge dose of wariness. I don’t react like this to guys. The only other one who could earn this sort of reaction out of me is Drew. And he’s not around…so why am I still so hung up on him?
Maybe because you’re still in love with him, like some sort of idiot?
I shove the nagging little voice that pops up at the most inopportune times into the back of my brain.
“I like your honesty,” the man says, his cool blue gaze raking over me. “I’ll just take the beer, then.”
“Smart decision.” I nod. “I’ll be right back.”
I head toward the back and slip behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of Pale Ale, glancing up to catch the guy staring at me. And he doesn’t look away either, which makes me feel uncomfortable. He’s not watching me like a pervert, just very…observant.
It’s unnerving.
A trickle of anger flickers through me. Do I wear an invisible sign around my neck? One that says Hey, I’m Easy? Because I’m not. Yeah, I made a few mistakes, looking for attention in the wrong places, but it’s not like I dress with my tits or ass hanging out. I don’t put any sort of purposeful swing to my hips nor do I thrust my chest out like I see plenty of girls do.
So why does every guy I encounter seem to blatantly check me out like I’m a piece of meat?
Deciding I’ve had enough of his crap, I stride toward his table and set the beer in front of him with a loud clunk. I’m about to walk away without saying a word—screw the tip—when he asks, “So what’s your name?”
I glance over my shoulder. “What’s it matter to you?” Oh, I’m such a bitch. I could really piss this guy off and get myself fired. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
Yet again, I’m as bad as my mom. She sabotaged her job with her drinking and awful attitude. At least I only have the bad attitude.
If I could kick my own ass, I would be doing so right now.
He smiles and shrugs, like my smart-ass remark doesn’t faze him. “I’m curious.”
Turning fully, I face him, studying him as much as he studies me. His long fingers are wrapped around the neck of the beer bottle, his other arm resting on the scarred and scratched table. His entire manner is relaxed, easy, and my defenses slowly lower.
“It’s Fable,” I admit, bracing for the reaction. I’ve heard endless jokes and rude remarks about my name since I can remember.
But he doesn’t give me a hard time. His expression remains neutral. “Nice to meet you, Fable. I’m Colin.”
I nod, not knowing what else to say. He both puts me at ease and shakes me up, which leaves me confused. And he definitely doesn’t fit in at this bar. He’s dressed too nice, has an air of authority about him that borders on entitlement, as if he’s above it all, and he probably is. He reeks of class and money.
But he’s not acting like an ass and he should, I’ve been so rude to him. He brings the beer bottle to his lips, taking a drink, and I watch unabashedly. He’s handsome. He’s arrogant. And he’s trouble.
I don’t want anything to do with him.
“So, Fable,” he says once he’s downed half his beer. “Can I ask you a question?”
Shuffling my feet, I glance around the bar. No one’s paying us any attention. I could probably stand here and talk to Colin the mysterious customer for fifteen minutes and no one would protest. “Sure.”
“Why is a woman like you working in a shit bar like this?”
“Why is a guy like you ordering a beer in a shit bar like this?” I retort, momentarily insulted. But then I realize…he’s complimenting me. And he referred to me as a woman. No one ever does that. I don’t do that.
He tips his beer at me, as if offering a toast. “Touché. Would you be surprised if I said I came in here looking for you?”
Surprised? More like creeped out. “I don’t even know you. How could you be looking for me?”
“I should rephrase that. I came here hoping I would find someone I could steal away.” At my raised eyebrows, he laughs. “I own a new restaurant in town. The District. Have you heard of it?”
I had. Some new fancy place that caters to the rich college kids, the ones with an endless supply of money they can use to eat, drink and party. So not my scene. “Yeah.”
“Have you been there?”
I slowly shake my head. “No.”
Leaning back against the seat, he studies me, his lids heavy as he does a slow perusal of…me. Now he’s totally checking me out and I can feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment. The guy is sort of a jackass.
I’ve always had a slight thing for jackasses.
“Come with me to the restaurant tonight. I’ll show you around.” His mouth curves into not quite a smile and I’m tempted.
But I’ve also sworn off men so I know this is a bad idea. “Thanks, but I’m not interested.”
“I’m not trying to ask you out on a date, Fable,” he says, his voice low, his eyes glowing. I take a step back, glancing around. I need to get away from this guy. Fast. But then his words stop me in my tracks. “I’m trying to offer you a job.”