Turned out Tyler—the Manager of his store no less—was the one to take that step. And he was the designated driver, stone cold sober.
After pulling up outside my hotel, he looked over his shoulder and smirked. “Here we are.”
“Yeah.” His smile was infectious—I couldn’t help returning it. “Here we are.” I’d not yet laid my hand on the door handle. It would have seemed rude to just hop out and go upstairs, but by the same token I had no idea how to wrap up the conversation.
“Would you think I was pulling rank if I mentioned a goodnight kiss?”
I knew I hadn’t had that much to drink, and alcohol always seemed to affect my balance and speech first of all, anyway. Not my hearing. Three glasses of white spread over the whole evening, with a meal and soft drinks, too… I definitely wasn’t tipsy enough for my ears to have stopped working. “I…what?”
“Jesus, Ty.” Sebastian, who worked in the same store as Tyler, as his menswear manager, play-punched him on the arm. “You’d take advantage of a drunk woman?”
“I’m not drunk.”
“See?” Tyler held up both his palms in a perfectly-executed gesture of innocence. “She’s not drunk.”
“Yes, because that’s exactly what a sober person would say.”
“Are you accusing me of…?” I began, but the look on Sebastian’s face halted me in my tracks. God damn it—I’d been talking to him all night and never seen him in that light before. The half-light as it was, from some nearby lampposts and the neon sign of my hotel.
He was leaner than Tyler, but in no way less of a presence. There was a quiet intensity to him that I’d noticed during our conversation that evening, an ability to make me feel like the only woman in the room. It wasn’t that he’d stared at me while we conversed—that would have been too aggressive. But he’d paid attention and made me feel witty, urbane, like the sort of woman who stood a chance. I’d not had much to do with him up until now—we worked in different branches of Pearson’s—but this evening had thrown us together, almost like it was meant to happen.
Like it was planned.
A shaft of artificial light caught the contours of Sebastian’s face as his mouth widened into a teasing grin. I paid enough attention to him to see the silhouette of his eyelashes as he searched Tyler’s face for some reaction or other.
“Well, if it’s a goodnight kiss you’re after…”
Tyler’s head whipped around and he eyed me as I sat in the back seat, sitting erect but not moving. Not leaning any nearer to him.
“…don’t let me stop you two guys.”
“You what?”
“Well, you seem very close. Work in the same store, hang out together…”
“Hey, hey, come on. Ty’s my best mate but not…we’re not…”
I lifted my eyebrows and took the opportunity to stare Sebastian down. I made out just enough to keep my interest up and my nerves down. “No?”
“Fuck, no.”
“I would have thought… Two good-looking guys…” And my blood pressure inevitably rose a few notches. No, I hadn’t had much to do with either of these two guys professionally, but when our paths had crossed of course I’d noticed them. I was the fucking Visual Manager at a sister store. Clearly not blind, for God’s sake.
“Did you hear that?” Tyler laughed quietly. “At least she thinks we’re good-looking.”
“Good-looking and…” I looked from him to Sebastian and back again. “Work colleagues.”
“From another store,” he pointed out.
“Even so.”
“No goodnight kiss, then?” Sebastian asked, and I could have sworn he looked me down and up again in a flirtatious instant. “Damn it. Maybe me and Ty will have to…”
“Now that would be seriously hot.” The words were out before I could stop them and if we’d lingered in broad daylight, they would no doubt have laughed at the burn spreading across my cheeks. “I mean… Jesus, I’d better…” I groped for the door handle and missed.
“Come here.” He tilted his head, motioning for me to near him, and three glasses of wine, a few months of being single and sheer bloody curiosity and want made me.
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Mikela Chase also writes under the name of Amber Kell. She enjoys playing with her two boys, spending time with her husband and avoiding housework of all types.
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