Before & After - Nazarea Andrews Page 0,2

shoved her out of my mind almost completely, that the door swings open and she stalks in.

She’s out of place in a blue sundress and white sweater, an oversized bag at her side, her long red hair swirling around her face in a halo of angry curls.

She’s fucking gorgeous and the sudden release of tension is almost dizzying.

And right then, I decide. Fuck all the reasons it’s a bad idea. I’m tired of giving a shit about that. She can shoot me down if she wants—but first I’m going to give myself a shot.

***

“You’re girl was late,” Scotty rasps as we land on two stools at the bar. It’s late and the crowd of sorority girls has thinned to almost nothing, although a pair is nursing Cosmos and watching us speculatively.

Surprisingly, Scott’s ignored them completely.

“Need anything, boys?” Manda asks as she sways past, giving Scotty a flirty smile. He grins at her, letting his gaze sweep over her.

My best friend is a fucking slut. But with Manda, it’s all flirting and no action. She’d take him up on it—she’s made that very clear. But Scott doesn’t fuck where he works, and Barrie’s has been too good for us to risk screwing it up for a quick fuck.

Which is good, because I’d have to kick his ass if he touched her. She might be a little too friendly and a little desperate, but she’s a cute kid and I like her.

"Bourbon, Manda," he says, and she glances at me questioningly. I nod and she pours the drinks. Scotty glances at me. "What are you waiting on?"

I shrug and grit my teeth. Scotty twists and gives her a look over his shoulder. "Fine. Stay here and keep Manda company. I'm going to introduce myself to your siren."

I jerk him back by the collar of his shirt before he can take more than two steps and throw him back against the bar. "Back the fuck off, Scott," I growl.

He grins, a challenge and a taunt in that expression. "Then make your move, Rike."

I snatch the bourbon from Manda and take a deep breath before walking to her table.

And wait.

For a long. Fucking. Time.

It takes almost a full minute for her to look up, almost long enough for my courage to fail. I'm ready to retreat when she blinks and looks up at me, her blue eyes widening a little as they find mine. She looks startled and sleepy, and as gorgeous as she looked at a distance is nothing compared to how fucking flawless she is this close.

There are freckles sprinkled across her cheeks and dusted over her nose.

I swallow a groan as she licks her lips and gives me a tentative smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I say, and then go blank.

Because in none of my fantasies did I ever consider we’d actually ever get to this point. And the smirks and smooth lines won’t work—not on her. They haven’t worked for any guy that’s approached her for the past three months.

“What do you call a group of unorganized cats?” I ask and her eyes cloud, confused. She gives me a pretty frown and I grin. “A cat-astrophe.”

For a second, all either of us do is stare, and then she giggles. “That is literally the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard.”

I grin, “So you want me to leave?”

Laughter dances in her eyes. “Have a seat, Jokes.”

My heart shoves up into my throat at the casual nickname and invitation but I keep my cool smile in place as I slide into the booth across from her. She pecks at the computer a few more times, and then twists it aside and reaches for her drink—a whiskey neat.

She normally drinks vodka cranberry, and I’ve fantasized about kissing that taste from her lips. My dick twitches and she watches me over the rim of her glass, lazy interest in her dark eyes.

“Y’all sounded good tonight,” she offers.

My lips tick up into a grin. “As opposed to most nights?”

A flush crawls up her cheeks. “No! You always sound good. I’m just—“

I laugh and lean back in the booth. Her adorable embarrassment is too easy to provoke. “I’m kidding, Red. Relax.”

“So how did you get involved in this? The band?”

“Scotty needed backup and it was fun. Something to keep me out of trouble. Neither of us are very good at doing shit without the other,” I say, skirting away from just how true that is and how fucking co-dependent we can be.

“That’s cute,” she says, grinning.

“Yeah?”

“Guys don’t usually do the