Okay, that was lame. I really shouldn’t be allowed to talk to men.
But surprisingly, it seems to work on him, as he leans in even closer.
“You’re a fan?”
“Mmhmm.”
“So, why are you working for Ryan when you clearly should be working for me?”
Resting my arm on the bar, I give a one-shoulder shrug, tipping up the corner of my lips. “Because he offered me a job, and you didn’t.”
“How stupid of me.”
“I know, right?” I bite down on my lip.
Lifting a hand, he sweeps my hair from my shoulder and brings his mouth close to my ear. “I might be being forward here, but I was wondering if you’d like to get out of here and come to a party with me.”
I tilt my head back, looking him in the eyes. “Is party code for your hotel room?” I raise a brow.
He lets out a throaty deep laugh. It makes me smile. “No, it’s actually code for party. But if you want to go to my hotel room, I would have no problem with that.”
Whoa! Okay. This is moving way too fast, and I’m getting in a little over my head.
I definitely should not be allowed to flirt with men—especially when I’m only doing so to piss someone else off, and it’s clearly not even working.
God, I’m so stupid.
Stepping back a little to put some space between us, I say, “I think we need to put the brakes on this a bit. I need to know a man for longer than five minutes before I even think about sleeping with him.”
A couple of hours, minimum.
Okay, don’t say that.
I turn my body back toward to the bar, leaning into it. “And anyway, I don’t get involved with drivers.” I rest my chin on my hand and grin up at him.
He chuckles. “Yeah, so I’ve heard.”
That straightens me up. “You’ve heard? From whom?”
“Ryan.” He tilts his head in the direction of where Carrick is. “I asked him about you, and after he not so politely told me that you were off-limits, he informed me that you don’t date drivers anyway, so I’d be wasting my time.”
I shoot a look at Carrick. And this time, I find that he’s staring right at me, and he looks pissed.
Good, because I’m feeling majorly pissed off myself. Who the hell does he think he is warning Leandro away from me?
“I can’t believe he did that,” I fume.
“To be fair to Ryan, if you worked for me, I would have done the same thing. I would definitely want to keep you all to myself.”
Something fires up inside of me.
Decision made.
I focus my eyes on Leandro. “Just to be clear, I’m not going to sleep with you, but if the offer to get out of here and go to that party is still on, then I’d really like to take you up on it.”
“Are you coming with me just to piss Ryan off?”
“Partly,” I confess. “Is that a problem?”
“Nope. No problem at all.” He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Cool. Well, just give me a minute to let my friend know I’m leaving, and I’ll be back.”
As I weave through the crowd toward Petra, I’m bubbling with anger.
Who the hell does Carrick think he is? He warned Leandro off me! He had no right!
I can’t believe he cockblocked me!
He can sleep with whomever he wants—annoying fucking pop-tarts—but I’m not allowed.
Screw that. Bastard.
Well, not that I’m actually going to have sex with Leandro, but Carrick doesn’t know that. Yes, I know it’s childish, but I’m not feeling very mature right now, and my primary goal is to piss Carrick off.
“Hey.” I tap Petra on the shoulder, pulling her attention from Mike, one of Nico’s pit guys.
So much for talking to Robbie, who is currently sitting in a chair, with a scowl on his face while he nurses a pint of beer.
“Hey, where’s my drink?” she complains to my empty hands.
“Oh, sorry. I forgot,” I say, distracted. “But guess who I just met at the bar?”
“Matt Damon?”
“No. Why? Is he here?” I swivel my head on my neck. It’s not unusual to see celebrities out and about while the Prix is happening.
“No!” She laughs. “It’s just a dream of mine to meet Matt Damon in a bar. Or should I call it a sexual fantasy?”
“Okay, TMI. Anyway, it was Leandro Silva.” I put a dramatic effect to his name.
“Leandro’s here?” Her head starts to swivel on her neck just like mine did moments ago. I see when she spots him because her eyes spark. “God, he’s so fucking hot,” she says with a weird moaning sound to her voice, which freaks me out a little.
Shaking it off, I say, “Yep, and he just invited me to go to a party with him.”
Her eyes widen. “Seriously? You’re going, right? Please tell me you’re going!”
With a mind of their own, my eyes search out Carrick. He’s not looking at me, but I can tell that he’s listening to our conversation in the way that his chin is tilted in our direction.
“I told him yes…” Taking hold of Petra’s elbow, I steer her away from prying ears. “But now, I’m not so sure,” I whisper.
In all honesty, my anger and confidence has started to wilt now that I’m here telling Petra with Carrick only a few feet away.
“What?” She looks aghast. “Why not?” Then, she flickers a glance in Carrick’s direction and looks straight back to me.
But surprisingly, it seems to work on him, as he leans in even closer.
“You’re a fan?”
“Mmhmm.”
“So, why are you working for Ryan when you clearly should be working for me?”
Resting my arm on the bar, I give a one-shoulder shrug, tipping up the corner of my lips. “Because he offered me a job, and you didn’t.”
“How stupid of me.”
“I know, right?” I bite down on my lip.
Lifting a hand, he sweeps my hair from my shoulder and brings his mouth close to my ear. “I might be being forward here, but I was wondering if you’d like to get out of here and come to a party with me.”
I tilt my head back, looking him in the eyes. “Is party code for your hotel room?” I raise a brow.
He lets out a throaty deep laugh. It makes me smile. “No, it’s actually code for party. But if you want to go to my hotel room, I would have no problem with that.”
Whoa! Okay. This is moving way too fast, and I’m getting in a little over my head.
I definitely should not be allowed to flirt with men—especially when I’m only doing so to piss someone else off, and it’s clearly not even working.
God, I’m so stupid.
Stepping back a little to put some space between us, I say, “I think we need to put the brakes on this a bit. I need to know a man for longer than five minutes before I even think about sleeping with him.”
A couple of hours, minimum.
Okay, don’t say that.
I turn my body back toward to the bar, leaning into it. “And anyway, I don’t get involved with drivers.” I rest my chin on my hand and grin up at him.
He chuckles. “Yeah, so I’ve heard.”
That straightens me up. “You’ve heard? From whom?”
“Ryan.” He tilts his head in the direction of where Carrick is. “I asked him about you, and after he not so politely told me that you were off-limits, he informed me that you don’t date drivers anyway, so I’d be wasting my time.”
I shoot a look at Carrick. And this time, I find that he’s staring right at me, and he looks pissed.
Good, because I’m feeling majorly pissed off myself. Who the hell does he think he is warning Leandro away from me?
“I can’t believe he did that,” I fume.
“To be fair to Ryan, if you worked for me, I would have done the same thing. I would definitely want to keep you all to myself.”
Something fires up inside of me.
Decision made.
I focus my eyes on Leandro. “Just to be clear, I’m not going to sleep with you, but if the offer to get out of here and go to that party is still on, then I’d really like to take you up on it.”
“Are you coming with me just to piss Ryan off?”
“Partly,” I confess. “Is that a problem?”
“Nope. No problem at all.” He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Cool. Well, just give me a minute to let my friend know I’m leaving, and I’ll be back.”
As I weave through the crowd toward Petra, I’m bubbling with anger.
Who the hell does Carrick think he is? He warned Leandro off me! He had no right!
I can’t believe he cockblocked me!
He can sleep with whomever he wants—annoying fucking pop-tarts—but I’m not allowed.
Screw that. Bastard.
Well, not that I’m actually going to have sex with Leandro, but Carrick doesn’t know that. Yes, I know it’s childish, but I’m not feeling very mature right now, and my primary goal is to piss Carrick off.
“Hey.” I tap Petra on the shoulder, pulling her attention from Mike, one of Nico’s pit guys.
So much for talking to Robbie, who is currently sitting in a chair, with a scowl on his face while he nurses a pint of beer.
“Hey, where’s my drink?” she complains to my empty hands.
“Oh, sorry. I forgot,” I say, distracted. “But guess who I just met at the bar?”
“Matt Damon?”
“No. Why? Is he here?” I swivel my head on my neck. It’s not unusual to see celebrities out and about while the Prix is happening.
“No!” She laughs. “It’s just a dream of mine to meet Matt Damon in a bar. Or should I call it a sexual fantasy?”
“Okay, TMI. Anyway, it was Leandro Silva.” I put a dramatic effect to his name.
“Leandro’s here?” Her head starts to swivel on her neck just like mine did moments ago. I see when she spots him because her eyes spark. “God, he’s so fucking hot,” she says with a weird moaning sound to her voice, which freaks me out a little.
Shaking it off, I say, “Yep, and he just invited me to go to a party with him.”
Her eyes widen. “Seriously? You’re going, right? Please tell me you’re going!”
With a mind of their own, my eyes search out Carrick. He’s not looking at me, but I can tell that he’s listening to our conversation in the way that his chin is tilted in our direction.
“I told him yes…” Taking hold of Petra’s elbow, I steer her away from prying ears. “But now, I’m not so sure,” I whisper.
In all honesty, my anger and confidence has started to wilt now that I’m here telling Petra with Carrick only a few feet away.
“What?” She looks aghast. “Why not?” Then, she flickers a glance in Carrick’s direction and looks straight back to me.
