We watch as the guy tries to ask another question and gets ignored again. Frustrated, he slams his drink on the bar and stands.
“I know what this is,” he announces, raising his voice so we can both hear. “You’re one of those girls who just flirts with guys to get free drinks, aren’t you?”
Josh starts to rise out of his seat, but I tug him back down. “She’s a big girl,” I remind him. “She can handle it.”
“I want to know what they’re saying.”
I consider, then gather up our drinks and hop along to the next booth so we can hear better.
Layla looks confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Sure,” the guy blusters. “You’ll sit and talk with me until I’ve got my credit card out, and now you just want to leave? Here’s a tip: next time you come out for a drink, bring your own damn cash.”
Layla stares at him. “Okay,” she says loudly. “For your information, I am perfectly capable of buying my own drinks. I was legitimately interested in you. But I’m sure as hell not anymore.” She stands, shoving the glass at him. “Here. Keep your drink, if you care about it that much.”
“I can’t drink wine, I’m a guy,” the man sputters.
The look Layla gives him could dissolve glass. Snapping open her clutch, she pulls out a crisp ten-pound note and drops it on the bar. “There. Enjoy. Prick.”
She tosses her hair over her shoulder, turns on her heel, and saunters back to our table. When she reaches us, she crosses her arms, looking between us. “Well? How did I do?” She drawls.
Josh and I exchange a look. I pat the empty seat at my side. “Sit,” I say slowly. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
TEN
LAYLA
My cheeks burn as I slide into the booth next to Zack. Humiliation is thumping through me.
That attempt of flirting went horrendously, even by my standards. The worst part is, I legitimately was trying. I wouldn’t have agreed to do this if I wasn’t going to give it my all. I just got really nervous.
Before I pissed him off, the guy seemed nice enough. He sat me down and offered to buy me a drink. He seemed interested in my work. We were chatting normally, and then he put his hand over mine, and I just froze.
Josh tilts his head, studying me. He’s dressed up today, in a black collared shirt that brings out the gold in his skin. He looks hot as Hell. “Tell me what happened,” he orders.
“I just… couldn’t think of anything to say. My mind went blank.”
“Was he a minger up close?” Zack asks loudly, his voice echoing through the dim bar.
“What?”
“Did he smell rank, or something?” He demands.
“No? I didn’t notice how he smelled at all. Do you have to shout?”
“Then why were you looking at him like you thought he’d give you the plague?”
“What are you talking about?”
Zack points at the first item on my scoresheet. He’s written 0 next to the body language column. “You were sat like…” Zack pauses, then frowns at me. “Well. Like you are now, actually.”
I look down at myself. I’m sitting precariously on the edge of the leather booth. My arms are crossed over my chest, and my body is thrumming with tension.
Taking a deep breath, I force myself to relax. “I didn’t realise. I was definitely attracted to him.”
“That’s interesting,” Josh notes clinically. “This is something subconscious for you, then. Your brain is on the defense, even if you’re trying to be friendly.”
“I…” I blink. “Yeah. I guess.”
“It looked like the conversation started off well, though,” he adds. “Was there a moment where things went downhill?”
I think. “I guess when he got really close to me. He touched my hand and I just froze up.”
Zack frowns. “You don’t like being touched, pet?”
“I don’t think I have an issue with it,” I say honestly. “I don’t know why it suddenly bothered me so much.”
Josh ruffles a hand through his hair. “I don’t get it,” he says. “I’ve seen you bring guys home before. I’m assuming you must flirt with them. How do you pull when you’re just looking for a one-night-stand?”
I didn’t know he’d noticed me bringing guys back. I shrug. “I go to a bar. See someone I like. Go up to them and ask if they’re single. If they say yes, I ask them if they want to sleep with me.”