I swivel my gaze to see Mercedes walking down the entrance steps. She’s laughing hard at something someone behind her said, but to be honest, I’m not looking at her face for very long.
She’s dressed in a skimpy black and white striped skirt, her sculpted legs on full display and looking even sexier than the time I saw them in those Daisy Dukes. She has a low-cut black tank top on with a long pendant necklace hanging right between her full breasts. I’d be concerned she wasn’t wearing enough clothes if it weren’t for the sexy, tight black leather jacket unzipped and layered over the top of the ensemble. At least that covers some of her body.
Her red hair is straight and shiny over her shoulders, like a curtain of color, and styled in a way I’ve never seen before. It’s a lot less natural than usual but definitely still sexy. This is a far different look from what I see at Tire Depot.
She’s a fucking knockout.
My dick roars to life between my legs, and I have to close my eyes and concentrate, so it doesn’t get a mind of its own and say hello to the crowd. Dicks can be such…dicks.
She turns her head and smiles at the guy who follows her down the steps. Draping his arm around her shoulders, he’s wearing glasses and dressed like he’s headed to a fucking wedding, not a dive bar on Pearl Street. A small brunette flanks her other side and is digging in her purse to pay the cover charge to the bouncers.
Mercedes laughs again at something the glasses dude says. Her smiling eyes begin to peruse the bar and finally land on me. I tower over pretty much everyone here, so it’s no surprise she spotted me. But the look on her face isn’t the easy smile I’ve grown used to seeing this past week.
She pulls her lip into her mouth and snaps her head to the guy who’s suddenly tightened his grip around her shoulders. He leans down so she can whisper in his ear and my eyes follow his other hand as it cups her hip. His thumb is dangerously close to the underside of her breast, and the familiarity of their embrace has my blood running hot.
What. The. Fuck?
“Jesus man, what’s up? You look like you’re ready to rip someone’s head off!” Sam says from beside me as he shoves a beer into my chest.
“What?” I nearly growl, wrapping my fingers firmly around the cold bottle.
“What’s going on? You look like…” His voice trails off as he sees where my steely gaze is focused. “Is that the same redhead?”
I nod, my jaw tight.
“I thought you were just friends with the girl.”
“I am,” I snap, sneering down at him.
“Well, then fucking cool it, bro, because you look like you’re itching for a fight.” He stands up off his stool and tips his chin up to rumble into my ear. “You look how you used to when Joce was fucking around.”
His words are like a bucket of ice water tossed in my face. I instantly sag against his hand clasping my shoulder and turn away to take a big gulp of my beer. Exhaling heavily, I hunch over and prop my elbows on the bar, running a hand through my hair.
Fucking hell, what’s wrong with me? I barely know Mercedes. I’ve only seen her outside the shop once. That doesn’t mean I can go all beast mode on her when I see her with another guy.
A gentle tap on my shoulder has my head snapping to the right.
It’s Mercedes.
My adorable redhead.
Up close and personal like this, she’s not adorable, though. She’s super fucking sexy. Her eyes are lined with a thick black pencil. Brown eyeshadow on her lids makes her blues irises brighter than ever before. Her glossy, red lipstick emphasizes her lips. The plumpness of them reminds me of the time I watched her wrap her mouth around that breadstick and—
“Hey, Miles,” Mercedes says, tucking a strand of silky hair behind her ear.
“Hey, Mercedes,” I husk, clearing my throat and standing to my full height.
In her heels, the top of her head reaches my chin, and I can smell the floral scent of her shampoo from this vantage point.
“Fancy seeing you here!” She laughs awkwardly and gives me a chummy punch to the shoulder. She glances behind her at where Sam has retreated to give us some privacy. “I thought you were going camping?”
“I thought you were writing,” I retort and look over her head to see Sam sliding his pointer finger across his neck, silently telling me to cool it.
Her cheeks deepen in color, but she holds her chin up high and replies, “Well, as you said, I need to take a break on occasion.”
I nod, clenching my jaw as my gaze finds the dude she came in with. He’s staring us down like we’re the live entertainment tonight instead of the DJ up in the booth.
“That your boyfriend?” I ask, nodding to Mr. Fancy Pants.
Mercedes looks over her shoulder and begins laughing. “God, no. That’s Dean. He’s my friend. And that’s Lynsey standing next to him, my other friend. We’re all neighbors, kind of?”
I nod, narrowing my eyes at the guy in annoyance. Whatever he’s trying to communicate is a different language than the one Mercedes is speaking right now. He’s certainly not watching her like he’s just a friend.
Turning away, I point over at Sam, who’s doing a poor job of pretending to look for something in the giant barrel of peanuts while eavesdropping on our conversation. “This is my buddy, Sam.”
Sam’s head pops up like he hasn’t been listening to every word we’ve said so far. Smooth move, Sam. In one giant step, he’s next to Mercedes and shaking her hand.
“Hi,” she says with a genuine smile.
“Nice to meet you…”
“Mercedes,” I finish when she doesn’t look like she’s going to. I look at Mercedes and add, “Sam works with me at the shop.”
Mercedes nods slowly, clearly more cautious of him now that she knows where he works. “Nice to meet you.”
“We’re going camping tomorrow,” Sam offers, clearly trying to make up for my current lack of social skills. “We head out in the morning.”
She looks up at me through her thick mascaraed eyes and smiles. “I’m heading to the coffee shop in the morning.”
I offer a half-smile back to her, and our eyes hold each other for a long moment. It feels like we’re both thinking the same thing at this moment. A thought resembling the question, why have we not hung out again?
But for some reason, I think we both know the answer to that.
Mercedes breaks the silence. “Well, I’ll lea—”
“Can I buy you a drink?” I ask quickly before she makes her great escape. I know it’s stupid, and I know it’s probably not wise, but I’m not ready to see her go yet.
That dimple in her cheek catches my eye as she glances back at her friends for a split second. “A drink sounds good.”
“Please, take my seat,” Sam rushes out, turning his stool to her and all but shoving her down into it. “I’m going to go say hi to my friend. He’s the DJ tonight.”
“Thanks,” Mercedes says, and he runs off like an overeager puppy dog retrieving his mommy’s slippers.
I exhale heavily and take the seat adjacent to her that I’ve been propped on this entire time. “What’s your poison? I can ask if they serve coffee in an IV drip if you’d like.”