“That sounds a lot like dating,” she admitted. “I was thinking that we needed to just spend the night together.”
My dick, which was already hard at the sight of her, lengthened even more at her words.
“Why the rush?” I asked curiously.
She seemed to close down right in front of me.
Thinking to put her back at ease, and maybe work into the question at a different angle, I changed the subject.
“So why a nurse?” I asked.
She shrugged. “A nurse makes a guaranteed fifty thousand a year. It’s honestly pretty easy to find a job anywhere. And it was something easy that I could accomplish at home.”
I looked away from my drink to stare at her. “You did your degree at home?”
She nodded, taking another sip of her Long Island Iced Tea. “I did. The only thing I couldn’t do at home were the clinicals, and I got those taken care of in a week and a half in Boulder, Colorado.”
I reached forward and rested my foot on the back of her barstool, causing her stool to wobble slightly.
She reached out and steadied herself using my leg.
“You have the hardest body I’ve ever seen—and touched—in my life,” she mused, her hand resting right above my knee. “Why is that?”
I grinned. “I CrossFit. Haven’t I mentioned that at least a hundred times already?”
She rolled her eyes. “No. Were you supposed to?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know. It’s just mentioned a lot when you do it. I suppose I work it into conversations without actually realizing I do it.” I paused. “My partner thinks it’s annoying as fuck how much I talk about it.”
“Maybe she’s just annoying and doesn’t realize that you like talking about it because you like doing it.” She shrugged. “What’s so good about it?”
I hummed, thinking about that answer for a moment.
“Well...” I hesitated. “You wouldn’t think it’s awesome based on how sore I am all the time. Or how I want to quit at least two times a week because it’s so fucking hard.”
She blinked. “You’re really selling me on joining. Do keep going.”
I laughed and took a swig of the new beer that the bartender set down in front of me.
“Like this.” I jerked my head in the beer’s direction. “I’m going to drink this, and I’m going to regret every single fuckin’ second of it tomorrow when I’m working out before work.”
“Why?” she asked, tilting her head.
“I’m much more aware of what I put into my body now,” I admitted. “For instance, I can’t just look at a donut, then decide to eat it. I have to contemplate the positives and negatives.”
She scoffed. “Sure you can eat it. You just pick it up, bite into it, and enjoy.”
“Most would think that, yes,” I admitted. “But when you’re aware of your body… things like a donut aren’t that enjoyable anymore. For instance, one single glazed donut is almost my entire allotted sugar intake for the day.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Shut up. Is it?”
“And my favorite donut shop, a donut there will cost me four hundred calories. I could eat four bananas for that,” I continued.
Her eyes were wide as she said, “If I want a donut, I just eat it. You can’t go on living life any other way. You don’t know when it’ll be your last day to enjoy those simple things.”
Her eyes widened, and she snapped her mouth shut, almost as if what she’d said surprised her.
I tilted my head. “You sound like you know a lot on that subject.”
In answer, she sucked down the rest of her beverage, then placed it carefully on the bar in front of her. “I just know. And it’s not something I talk about.”
I could hear the finality of her words, and in answer, I chose to again change the subject.
“If you still want me in the morning, when you’re sober, then I’ll take you up on the offer,” I blurted.
Damn beer brain.
I hadn’t meant it to come out quite like that.
But it got the job done, I guess.
Her body turned so that she was once again mostly facing me, and her hand tightened on my leg where it felt like she was branding me just by holding it there. “We’re both drunk. How are we going to get there?”
“I was going to walk to my place,” I told her. “It’s a fifteen-minute walk, give or take. I’ve never done it slightly inebriated, though.”
Her lips twitched. “I’d say we could go to mine, but mine’s farther.”
I pulled out a hundred-dollar bill from my wallet, then left it on the bar top under my mostly empty beer mug.
Gesturing to it with a flick of my head, I said, “Have a good night,” to the bartender before slowly standing.
Losing her hand on my leg felt like I’d lost a piece of myself I hadn’t realized that I had.
When she stood, too, her eyes followed me almost the entire time.
It was only when she had to step away from the bar, leaving me at her back, that she took her eyes away to glance at the crowd behind her.
There were a lot of people here.
I’d noticed every single one of them come in, but not a single one had approached.
Not even the ladies that I could see glaring at Cannel.
Cannel who looked like she was about to start laughing.
“Man, they’re not happy with me, are they?” she questioned.
I looked at a few of the ladies in question and quickly glanced away. “There aren’t very many newbies that come in here,” I admitted. “Fresh meat.”
She snorted delicately and swayed slightly when she had to maneuver around a man that’d gotten up from his chair without seeing us behind him.
“Oopps.” He inhaled. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.” He paused again, eyes narrowing. “You.”
I blinked. “Me?”
“You’re the one that has the hots for my wife,” he growled.
It was then that I recognized him.
Tarzan was what Brianna called him. I wasn’t sure if that was his actual name or not, but it was the only one I knew him by.
I’d seen him a time or two at the station.
He’d come to bring her a new set of keys once, and sign divorce papers the second time.
Each time, she’d been practically hanging on me.
Now, I understood the why of it.
She was trying to make him jealous.
Or possibly get my face bashed in, because Tarzan was massive.
“Sorry to break your heart,” Cannel said as she sidled closer to me, her back coming against my chest. “But he has the hots for me. Your wife just likes to make you jealous by using my man to do it.”
“Your man?” he asked, looking from Cannel to me. “Sorry. I’m just… it was a bad breakup. Still smarts a little.”
I couldn’t stop myself from looping my arm around her middle and pulling her in closer.
That’s when I really took the man’s features in.
He looked… haggard.
As if he’d just run a marathon and was expected to keep going afterward.
“It’s fine,” I lied. “Let us know if you need anything.”