Page 62 of Bear

“Sure. You know that doesn’t guarantee you my number right?”

“I know. I can hope though. I’m just honored to be in your presence with your pretty self. Look at those dimples.” He grunted and shook his head before waving the bartender over.

The bartender was a short and stocky guy with tattoos on his forearms and an expression that told me he probably shot a few people at some point in time. “What can I get you?” He looked right at me and ignored the guy standing beside me.

“I’m taking care of her drinks tonight,” he told the bartender.

“Damn, am I chopped liver?” Kareema joked.

“Not at all, beautiful. I’ll get you something too.” He gestured to Kareema and me and said, “They’re with me.”

“Nah. They’re not. Especially notthisone.” The bartender aimed his finger at me and stared the man down. “You fucking hard of hearing? You’re not buying her shit. Move along.” The guy looked startled as he moved away from me and back to his seat.

“What the fuck was that?” I blurted at the bartender.

“Look, what do you want to drink? It’s all on the house.” His tone was much nicer when he was speaking to me.

“It’s all on the house?” Kareema asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Everything. Food too.” He nodded.

“I’ll have a martini,” I said crossing my legs. Kareema ordered one too and once the bartender disappeared she shot a look at me.

“What the fuck?” She whispered. I sighed softly because I already knew what was happening.

When our drinks came out, the bartender said, “Tell Bear I said what’s up.”

“Sure thing.” I gave a polite smile and lifted my drink to him. Kareema’s eyes got wide and she hit my arm.

“Oh my god. Is that necklace some sort of bat signal or some shit?”

“Must be,” I muttered, putting my lips to the glass. “If we want to enjoy ourselves we’re going to have to go outside of Louisiana and Texas.”

“We might as well buy some bottles and drink in the guesthouse.”

“Pretty much.” We had a few more drinks then tried to tip the bartender. He wasn’t having it. So much for letting my hair down.

Bear was everywhere even when he wasn’t.

Kareema and I ended up buying liquor at the store and getting drunk in the guesthouse like she suggested. I was glad I only had to walk to the main house and not any farther. I stumbled my drunk ass way upstairs and stopped when I got to the small gym down the hall from Bear’s room. The light was on and he was inside lifting weights.

Fuckhe looked good.

Sweat rolled down his body seemingly in slow motion like it wanted to savor the time it got to spend on his skin. I fully understood. Bear’s skin was an ode to God. I was way too drunk to look at him and not imagine the way his tongue performed tricks on and inside of me.

I’d gladly be Bear’s bowl of porridge as long as he promised to eat every drop.

His copper eyes lifted to meet mine and I felt my breath hitch.

“I thought you’d be sleeping,” I managed to creak out even though my mouth was dry and I was drunk enough to speak in cursive.

“I can’t sleep without you.” He said it like it was common knowledge. He dropped the barbell on the floor with a clank and grabbed a white towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. Why was he so gorgeous? “How’s Luanne?”

“Good. We had dinner with Lane. You remember her?”

“Yeah. Of course. How is she?”

“Fine. She asked about you,” I reached up and played with the ends of my hair because if I didn’t, my hands would be all over Bear and I didn’t know if it was okay to touch him yet. I didn’t know where his mind was.