Hey—you didn’t drink to my toast!”
Nolan shook his head. She’d been acting weird since he’d picked her up. And he hated that toast. Had she meant it to be a joke?
“What’s goin’ on, Ani?”
“Drink with me. Please drink with me.”
He did the shot and set the glass down. The bartender filled them both again, apparently thinking that Analisa had ordered a second round. Nolan disagreed, but she picked one up and tossed it back, this time swallowing right away.
She still made a face after, though. “God! Do people actually like this stuff?”
“Ani…have you ever been drunk before?” Maybe that was the thing on her list. A drunk girl, he could handle.
“Yeah.” Oh. Damn. “On wine. And I’ve been stoned out of my head on weed and almost every painkiller invented, but I’m not sure that counts.” She nodded at the full shot glass on the bar and then gave him that grin that looked like she was up to something. “Do your shot.”
“Tell me what we’re doing here, first.”
“Nope. Not yet. If you’re not gonna shoot that, I am.” She reached for it, but he beat her to it and tossed it back. When he set it down, he asked the bartender for a couple of Budweisers.
When she got her beer, she swiveled the barstool and leaned back against the bar, her eyes scanning the room. He watched her.
She was wearing jeans and boots—he hadn’t seen her in anything else, maybe because they always rode his bike, which had a new bitch seat—and a dark blue top that had some kind of metallic threads running through it. The neck was wide, barely staying on her shoulders, showing a lot of her prettily freckled skin. She’d been wearing her leather jacket, but she’d shrugged it off and had spread it over the barstool, so she was sitting on it now.
There was a live band, and it started its first set while she was surveying the bar. When ‘Mustang Sally’ kicked into gear, she turned to him with a grin. “Ooh! I love this song! I want to dance!”
Without even waiting for him, she jumped off her barstool and ran to the small space in front of the stage that served as a dance floor. In the times Nolan had been in this bar, the only dancers had been women looking to get noticed. But that was absolutely not going to be Analisa. He didn’t dance—fuck, he really, truly, did not dance—but he set his half-finished beer on the bar and went after her.
Maybe ‘make sure my father wants Nolan dead’ was on her list.
She was out there alone, swaying energetically to the music and already getting noticed. Nolan went to her and put his hand on her hip, drawing her attention to him. She turned and put her arms over his shoulders, smiling up at him. Her eyes were a little unfocused. As thin as she was, and as inexperienced with liquor, she was a lightweight. Two shots and half a beer were doing her in.
He leaned down and put his lips to her ear, trying to ignore the way she pulled herself tightly against him as he did. “Let’s go after this song. There’s nothing for you here.”
She turned her head so she could speak in his ear, too. The scent of her filled his head, and he clutched her closer without fully realizing he’d done so.
“No! I want to be in a bar brawl. I want to start it if I can. And get arrested.”
Stupefied, he pulled back and stared down at her. She grinned up at him, her expression somewhere between innocent and greedy.
“Are you fucking serious?”
She nodded.
“You’re insane. No. No fucking way. We’re leaving.” He set her back and grabbed for her hand, but she yanked it away. Then, with a gleam in her eye that was unlike anything he’d seen from her before, she slapped his face. Hard. Before he could recover from that shock, she charged and pushed him. He only took one step backward, but that step sent him into a guy carrying two pitchers of beer and a stack of glasses. Nolan knew
Nolan shook his head. She’d been acting weird since he’d picked her up. And he hated that toast. Had she meant it to be a joke?
“What’s goin’ on, Ani?”
“Drink with me. Please drink with me.”
He did the shot and set the glass down. The bartender filled them both again, apparently thinking that Analisa had ordered a second round. Nolan disagreed, but she picked one up and tossed it back, this time swallowing right away.
She still made a face after, though. “God! Do people actually like this stuff?”
“Ani…have you ever been drunk before?” Maybe that was the thing on her list. A drunk girl, he could handle.
“Yeah.” Oh. Damn. “On wine. And I’ve been stoned out of my head on weed and almost every painkiller invented, but I’m not sure that counts.” She nodded at the full shot glass on the bar and then gave him that grin that looked like she was up to something. “Do your shot.”
“Tell me what we’re doing here, first.”
“Nope. Not yet. If you’re not gonna shoot that, I am.” She reached for it, but he beat her to it and tossed it back. When he set it down, he asked the bartender for a couple of Budweisers.
When she got her beer, she swiveled the barstool and leaned back against the bar, her eyes scanning the room. He watched her.
She was wearing jeans and boots—he hadn’t seen her in anything else, maybe because they always rode his bike, which had a new bitch seat—and a dark blue top that had some kind of metallic threads running through it. The neck was wide, barely staying on her shoulders, showing a lot of her prettily freckled skin. She’d been wearing her leather jacket, but she’d shrugged it off and had spread it over the barstool, so she was sitting on it now.
There was a live band, and it started its first set while she was surveying the bar. When ‘Mustang Sally’ kicked into gear, she turned to him with a grin. “Ooh! I love this song! I want to dance!”
Without even waiting for him, she jumped off her barstool and ran to the small space in front of the stage that served as a dance floor. In the times Nolan had been in this bar, the only dancers had been women looking to get noticed. But that was absolutely not going to be Analisa. He didn’t dance—fuck, he really, truly, did not dance—but he set his half-finished beer on the bar and went after her.
Maybe ‘make sure my father wants Nolan dead’ was on her list.
She was out there alone, swaying energetically to the music and already getting noticed. Nolan went to her and put his hand on her hip, drawing her attention to him. She turned and put her arms over his shoulders, smiling up at him. Her eyes were a little unfocused. As thin as she was, and as inexperienced with liquor, she was a lightweight. Two shots and half a beer were doing her in.
He leaned down and put his lips to her ear, trying to ignore the way she pulled herself tightly against him as he did. “Let’s go after this song. There’s nothing for you here.”
She turned her head so she could speak in his ear, too. The scent of her filled his head, and he clutched her closer without fully realizing he’d done so.
“No! I want to be in a bar brawl. I want to start it if I can. And get arrested.”
Stupefied, he pulled back and stared down at her. She grinned up at him, her expression somewhere between innocent and greedy.
“Are you fucking serious?”
She nodded.
“You’re insane. No. No fucking way. We’re leaving.” He set her back and grabbed for her hand, but she yanked it away. Then, with a gleam in her eye that was unlike anything he’d seen from her before, she slapped his face. Hard. Before he could recover from that shock, she charged and pushed him. He only took one step backward, but that step sent him into a guy carrying two pitchers of beer and a stack of glasses. Nolan knew
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