Garrett looked back and forth between the two of us, a confused smile plastered on his face.
“My hand’s fine.” I looked down at the two puncture marks that were healing nicely.
“Is this your boyfriend?”
“Um, no,” I replied. “We’re on our first date.”
“We met on Tinder,” Garrett blurted out. “Kinda.”
“Tinder? Girl, with those legs and your newfound fame—even if it’s bad fame—you don’t need to go on Tinder.”
“Well, thanks, but—”
“I’m sorry. I’ll let you get on with your date.” She slid her phone back into her pocket. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“I’ll take a margarita,” Garrett said almost too quickly.
“I’ll have an ice tea.” Drinking on the first date didn’t seem like a great idea, especially a first date with a man who was already drunk off his ass.
“Sorry about that,” I said when the hostess left.
“It’s okay.” Garrett wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “You know we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“Of course I want to,” I said, only half lying.
“Because I know you’re a catch. I still can’t believe you texted me.”
I shrugged. Where was the cocky guy from the park? “I figured I’d give you a chance.”
He nodded. “Sorry about the snake video. I’m glad your hand is okay.”
“Thanks.”
“Here are your drinks,” the hostess said. “Would you mind signing this for me?” She pulled out a napkin with the restaurant’s logo on it.
She had to be joking. I looked up expecting her to laugh, but instead, she pushed her pen towards my face.
“Sure,” I signed it quickly, and she bounded away from the table tucking the napkin safely into her pocket.
“It’s too bad people don’t want my autograph for something more—I don’t know—positive.”
Garrett had already gulped down half of his margarita. “If you weren’t so beautiful, no one would care.”
I doubted they were checking me out. But it was a nice compliment. “So you’re an accountant?”
He nodded. “It’s a good gig. Several of the Broncos players are clients. Are you a fan?”
“Isn’t everyone?”
“Seems like it.” He took another sip of his margarita. “I have tickets for this weekend’s home game if you’d like to go.”
I tried to keep my face as neutral as possible while my insides squealed yes, yes, say yes! Which was worse that he was actually asking me out again after we were only ten minutes into our date, or that I was only too willing to say yes?
“Sure,” I finally replied. Hopefully, he wasn’t too drunk to remember this conversation. I’d never been to an actual game.
“Cool.” He smiled and seemed to relax a bit. “So, have you met a lot of people on Tinder?”
“You’re the first, uh, well sort of, I guess.” I laughed. “A friend of mine convinced me to set up the profile.”
“Me too. I didn’t have much interest, but I thought why not? Most of the women I’m interested in swipe left.”
Why would any woman swipe left? He was tall and built and handsome. Maybe his profile was a booty call.
I glanced across the table to see him take a sip of his drink only to have it dribble down his chin. Maybe it was because behind the outward appearance, this guy was a verifiable lush, though how they could figured that out from a simple Tinder profile was beyond me.
It didn’t take long to order and receive our food—steak fajitas for me and an enormous quesadilla for him. The waiter looked at me with a knowing grin but thankfully didn’t say anything about the video.
Just as we were getting ready to leave and Garrett was signing the credit card slip, a familiar face caught my eye. Nikki. And Luke. Sitting across the restaurant.
They were talking about something that looked rather intense. Either that or Nikki’s stick had traveled further up her ass.
My stare must have borne a hole in Luke’s back because he turned to glance over at our booth. I looked away before he caught me staring. Before I could talk myself out of it, I reached across and touched Garrett’s arm giggling as if he had told the funniest joke in the world.
He let out a confused laugh. “Did I say something?” His speech even more slurred now that he’d finished his fourth enormous margarita—the limit for how many the restaurant would serve one person.
“You’re just so cute,” I said with a smile knowing full well Luke was watching. “Should we head out?”
His head bobbed. “Definitely.”
We stood from the booth, me doing my best to showcase my legs and the shortness of my skirt and him trying not to fall over. I hooked my arm in his, thankful he was steady enough to support most of his own weight and did my best love-to-watch-her-go walk hoping Luke was taking it all in.
“Where’d you park?” I asked when we got to the parking lot.
“Uh, I think . . .” he glanced around not seeming to comprehend my question entirely.
I couldn’t let him drive himself, not like this.
“How about I drive you home?” I asked.
He nodded. “Thanks.”
It took double the time getting back to my car. Between my heels and him practically falling all over me, I was surprised we made it there at all. Part of me hoped he would forget inviting me to the Broncos game after all. I didn’t mind a guy who had an occasional beer now and then, but I hated a sloppy drunk.
Thankfully he stayed conscious long enough to give me his address before passing out in my passenger seat. I silently willed him not to barf on Cherry Anne’s leather.
His house was a swanky brick two story with a double garage underneath part of the main living quarters in one of the wealthy parts of town. Accountants did rather well for themselves.
“Garrett?” I said when we pulled up to the curb.
“Huh?” He opened his eyes and wiped the drool coming from the corner of his mouth. “We’re here already?”
“Yep.”
He reached for the door handle and
