Fuck. I was so drunk.
“I was only going to guess something good.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Are you in fashion?”
I laughed again. “You are a comedian,” I said. “Right?”
“In entertainment,” he said. “But not a comedian.”
“Close enough,” I said, taking a sip of my screwdriver. It was so strong.
“Can I buy you another drink?”
“Absolutely not,” I said. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Kieran,” he said, extending his hand as he laughed.
“Becca,” I replied.
He squeezed my hand, which was surprisingly sweaty. Not very attractive, I thought. But then again, I probably looked like a mess, just in general.
I tried to sit up straighter—ridiculous, when I couldn’t even see straight—and ran my fingers through my hair.
“What are you doing in this bar?” Kieran asked. “I’ve never seen you here before.”
“I’m, uh,” I said. “I’m supposed to be having a divorce party.”
“It’s not much of a party.”
I laughed. “My friend went and eloped,” I said, taking another sip of my drink. “Friend. She just wanted to come to Vegas so she could marry this guy, I guess. What’s a better excuse than my divorce?”
“Your ex is an idiot,” he said.
“Cheers to that,” I replied, holding my drink up in the air. It was enough to get the bartender’s attention, which made me giggle. “I think they might kick me out.”
“They deal with worse every day,” he said. “Trust me.”
“I do,” I said.
“That wasn’t very nice of your friend,” he said. “How did you end up here?”
“I wanted an inexpensive bar that wasn’t next to a casino,” I said. “And you know, this seemed like the perfect place for a lonely divorcee not to get picked up.”
“Are you not getting picked up?” he asked. Even in the darkness, I could see his eyes were twinkling.
It had been so long since I had been with a man, and the last few times I had slept with Scott, he had hardly seemed interested in me. He was just going through the motions before our marriage died. I could tell he wasn’t interested in me anymore.
This stranger—this gorgeous tall man with the mischievous eyes—he was going to be into me.
And I was drunk enough to actually go for it.
“What are you saying?” I asked after I took another sip of my strong drink.
“I’m saying… do you have a hotel room around here?”
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