Page 48 of Time To Learn

I open my mouth to press her, but the moment is lost as Alex and Trish step up next tous.

“Why don’t we push the tables together and get to know each other better?” Alex says. Laura’s eyes widen as she takes in his bulky frame and bushy beard. I give her a crooked smile.

“Excellent idea,” I murmur.

Laura jumps up from her seat, toppling on her feet for a few seconds.

“Trish, can I speak with you for a minute?” she asks, taking her friend’shand.

“Sure,” Trish says as Laura squeezes her way between the tables. Her perky arse is in my line of view, and I bite my lip as I close my eyes, suppressing a groan.

“We won’t be long,” Laura says as she pulls Trish behindher.

“No problem,” Alex rumbles. I stand up and turn to watch the women enter the ladies’ room at the other end of thepub.

“Shit,” I whisper.

“What is it?” Alex asksme.

I look at him, frowning.

“Why do I always think that the most guarded women are the most interesting?” I ask, annoyance dripping from my voice.

A booming laugh erupts from his frame, heightening my annoyance.

“I’ve no fucking clue, lad. No clue atall.”

* * *

Laura

“Trish,what are you doing with that guy?” I hiss at her when we’re alone in the toilets. “What about Charles?”

She gives me a crooked smile and shrugs.

“Charles and I aren’t serious, remember? Besides, nothing’s going on. I started to chat him up because of his friend—and because I know him.” At my puzzled look, she points at her left side. “He did my dragon tattoo a while back.” She opens her clutch and takes out her lipstick. “Now, his friend, Kristian? He looked at you as if you were some kind of delicious chocolate cake, all covered up in cream and topped with strawberries.”

I cringe at the food analogy.

“Ack. Don’t be silly. Nothing’s going to happen betweenus.”

I turn to the sink behind me and wash my hands. Our eyes meet in the mirror, and I huff at the scepticism flaring back atme.

“It won’t,” I stress. “We’re just going to be friends.”

She gapes atme.

“Friends? Sweetie, you’re not friends with a man who looks like him. No, you use him for off-the-charts-dirty-holier-than-thou fucking, that’swhat.”

I shush her, worried someone will walk in on our conversation.

“No. For one thing, he’s only twenty-six…”

“Even better,” she interrupts.

“And for another, I’m not interested.”

I almost believe the lie coating my words.