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I tried to channel the confidence I usually felt while listening toCarly Rae Jepsen’s“Cut To The Feeling” as I strode across the bar to approach the stranger. I hadn’t propositioned someone before. I had personally been propositioned many times, but I never took charge like this.

I nervously pulled the stool out, sat, and tried to sit as a calm, collected woman would. Casual, but with an air of authority. I leaned forward and rested both of my elbows on the bar top, hopefully showing off the curve of my back and the low cut of my long-sleeved shirt.

“What can I get you?” The young bartender asked. As he approached, I noticed that his eyes dropped to sneak a glance at my cleavage. It was so fast, it felt almost accidental. I smiled at him as I pretended to think for a moment.

“A piña colada would be nice,” I replied, still building up the nerve to look to my right where the handsome stranger still sat, sipping…something. I couldn’t tell what it was yet in my peripheral vision. I figured that if I ended up striking out with this man, at least I would have a fun fruity drink to help me get over the rejection.

“Coming right up!” The bartender rapped his knuckles on the counter as he stepped away and started to work.

I just sat there; my muscles taut as I rested my elbows on the bar top. I turned to admire the bar towards my left, kicking myself for not even looking at him yet.C’mon, Jacqueline. Just start with a glance. You don’t even need to say hello, yet, just basic eye contact would be a good start.

I inhaled through my nose and held my breath as I slowly forced my neck to comply with my plans. I turned slowly, pretending to glance at the young bartender who was mixing my drink on the right side of the bar.

And that’s when I got my first full, real look at him.

He was already staring at me, a glass of beer at his lips as he met my wondering gaze.

The breath released out of my lungs in a woosh, and I immediately panicked about whether he noticed that or not.

I hadn’t seen a man that took my breath away in a very long time, and yet, here he was.

Perhaps I set my sights a little too high tonight. He was undeniably gorgeous. Maybe even out of my league.

Damnit, I scolded myself, I’mthe catch.I’mthe one he should be thanking for this opportunityI’mabout to give him.

“Hello.” The man set the glass down after taking a sip, his clear blue eyes on me in a way that immediately made me feel vulnerable.

“Hi.” It took every muscle in my body to make that a friendly, small greeting, and not a wheeze from his direct attention.

He had dark, almost black hair that was casually styled but may have had his fingers run through it a few times. His icy blue eyes were lined with thick lashes, supported by high cheekbones and a sharp nose that pointed towards light pink, hydrated lips that didn’t have any evidence of nervous chewing or skin peeling.

Must be nice, I thought to myself.

Thankfully I hadn’t nervously picked at my lips recently. I even wore lip-plumping chapstick tonight because I had very high hopes for myself.

His jawline was perfectly defined against his neck.

I could see a hint of collarbones sticking out of a Henley-styled shirt underneath his open leather jacket, and I realized right then, in that very moment, how viscerally attracted to a nice set of collarbones I was.

“Do I have something on my shirt?” The man asked, glancing down at himself before meeting my eyes again. His lips were twitching, as if he was hiding a smile.

“Nope,” I replied, but my brain halted a little bit at the British accent he had just spoken with. It wasn’t a Mr. Darcy-sounding British accent like I heard in movies and TV shows. It was a little messier and more casual. I wanted to guess that he had a cockney accent, but I wasn’t quite sure.

I wasn’t prepared to be completely knocked off my game. Attractive men were one thing, attractive men with British accents were almost unfair. I fought the urge to toss up a peace sign with my fingers and run out of the bar in embarrassment.

“You’ve just…been staring,” the man replied, humor lacing his tone.

My blush crept up my neck, into my cheeks. I prayed that he didn’t notice, but I was already on the verge of sweating. He probably wouldn’t be excited about no-strings-attached orgasm exchanges if I was already sweaty.

“Just…enjoying the view,” I replied. I locked onto those clear blue eyes of his, shocked that I dared to say such a thing.Who was I? This was Marco, not me. But I didn’t take it back, I didn’t apologize. I just met his gaze and waited for his reaction.

His lips finally pulled into a smile then, and my heart stuttered at the sheer beauty of this man.

I almost fell off of my barstool when he shifted his weight and held a hand toward me to shake, “I’m Leo.” Marco’s words immediately filled my head,First things first, does he have a moanable name?

…I thought, I could moan “Leo”, but I couldn’t let myself focus on that for too long.

As I took his hand, I smiled back at him, probably too widely, but I was living off of the insanity that I managed to make him smile. “I’m Jacqueline.”