Chapter 2 Carrie 001

When it came to staying organized, she outdid the rest of us. As expected, she pulled out a leather notebook and black pen, handing them to Krissy. Krissy tore a sheet of paper from the notebook and split it into four even pieces. She sketched a heart on one piece, balled up all four scraps, and shuffled them across the table.

“Here’s the plan for how we’ll play. Everyone grabs a ball, and whoever ends up with the heart has to go talk to Mr. Hot Guy over there and get his number. Sound good?”

It was a dumb game, but the martinis had begun to weave their spell, turning everything delightfully hazy and fun. Everyone nodded, and I found myself doing the same. Whatever hesitation I had was long gone.

“Is there a bonus for getting the number, or is Mr. Tall-Fair-and-Handsome the grand prize?” Leslie shot me a smirk and tilted her head toward the bar as she asked. Her green eyes were lit up , not just by the alcohol, but by something warmer, deeper.

“Okay, hear me out.. if she gets his number, her drinks are on us. If she doesn’t, she’s buying for the whole table.” Krissy grinned like she’d just cracked the code.

“Okay, okay — I am in. Let us see what happens.” I said. “Let us just do it and be done already.” To be honest, I wanted it done before the drinks wore off and I talked myself out of it.

We each grabbed a crumpled paper ball. Surprise, surprise. I opened mine and saw the dreaded heart staring back.

“Of course,” I groaned.“I’m always the one who loses in these dumb games.”

“Lose? Girl, you won! Now go claim what is yours,” Krissy said, barely holding back her laughter. She loved the game. Constantly dragging me out of my comfort zone. She is been like this since our first year in college, when she introduced me to my first frat party and had me drunk off my butt. I had no clue why she brought me along. She was drop-dead gorgeous, with those dark eyes and thick black hair, and basically the party’s MVP. If anyone knew how to kill the vibe, it was me.

I clenched my jaw. Not today, I told myself. No doubts. I was going for it. I lifted my martini, knocked it back in one shot, and pushed to my feet with Krissy egging me on.

"He is yours, go get him , sweetie."

I gave her a sharp look, grabbed the notepad and pen, and focused on the task in front of me.

As I walked up to the handsome guy sitting alone on a dark wooden stool, a nervous flutter twisted in my stomach. What on earth was I thinking? Why did I agree to do this? Seeing him up close did nothing to calm my nerves; he was even hotter than he’d looked from a distance. A curl of dark hair fell across his forehead, nearly shadowing eyes the color of deep ocean blue. His skin was a warm tan; smooth and healthy, the kind that looked natural, not sun-made.

And judging by the looks of him of healthy... definitely not a fries-and-burgers kind of guy. Even sitting down, he looked tall, lean, and seriously fit. The closer I got, I noticed the way his broad shoulders pressed against the fabric of his shirt, the outline taut and defined. He had the kind of body you’d expect to see on the cover of a fitness magazine; lean, sculpted, and with abs that looked like they could double as gym equipment.

What have I gotten myself into? A guy like him was so out of my league. When I looked back, my friends were all waving me on, grinning like idiots.

He was scrolling through his phone, his left side angled toward me as I stopped beside him. The closeness sent warmth rushing to my cheeks.

I was ready to retreat to my seat, but one look at my so-called friends’ death glares made me think twice. I’d already agreed, which meant I was stuck. If I bailed now, my friends would tease me forever. It was only a short conversation—what’s the worst that could happen?

I licked my dry lips, nerves fluttering in my stomach. “Hi… um, could I ask you a quick favor?”

The ridiculously hot guy turned toward me, and the moment he did, that heart-stopping smile of his hit me like a punch to the chest. “Depends on the favor,” he said with a teasing grin. “But with someone as gorgeous as you asking, it’s hard to say no.”

I let out a giggle—a giggle—and instantly blamed the martini. Seriously? I was a grown woman. Grown women did not giggle. I was a college graduate, a paralegal on the path to a law degree and a shiny future as an attorney. And yet here I was, squirming like a teenager with her first crush. And that voice? Way too sexy for my sanity.

“Well, you see those ladies sitting over there?” I tilted my head in their direction but didn’t dare turn around; if I did, my courage might vanish. "My idiotic friends over there think I wouldn’t have the guts to ask for your number. Wanna help me prove them wrong? In fact, They will make me pay for their drinks if I don’t come back with your number.

“Hmm… maybe I should say no just to see if you’ll really pay.”he said, a single brow lifting in smooth curiosity.

“I should have seen it coming; it always ends this way. Listen, Fake number? Real number? Anyone. You could give me your pizza place’s number and I’d still walk away happy.” The words spilled out before I could stop them. I thrust the pen and notepad into his hands. As he reached for it, his hand grazed lightly against mine. There was a comforting warmth in his touch that made my heart flutter.

Okay, yeah.. he was definitely hot. But what was that weird jolt I just got?

“Is this your usual style to be this straightforward and commanding?” he asked as he wrote down a name and some numbers.

"I only waste time when I am not focused on a mission. Time is too precious to waste." I berated myself mentally. What nonsense was I spouting? I probably sounded like a fool.

He laughed softly, his grin widening. “I’m with you. Always ready to lend a hand to a damsel in distress.”

"I really appreciate it. I owe you big time." I mentally kicked myself again. Where had that sharp tongue and quick thinking, the kind that impressed my law professors, gone?