Wicked Things by Yolanda Olson
Bates
“I’ve never seenyou here before,” I said to Hollis as I wracked my brain for a way to keep the conversation going.
There was no way in hell I wasn’t going home without her; I had already made up my mind about that.
“It’s my first time here,” she replied quietly.
I swallowed down the sigh that was rising.
I still couldn’t figure out whether she wasn’t interested, nervous, or just quiet.
As I picked up my new bottle of beer, I reached over and rested a hand lightly on her wrist.
She glanced down slowly before raising her eyes toward me again, and smiled slightly.
That’s better than nothing.
“So, are you seeing anyone?” I asked a little louder than I meant to.
I cleared my throat and laughed nervously as I waited for her answer.
She shook her head as she finally let go of the glass she had been so desperately holding onto.
“What about you?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I was,” I assured her with a grin.
She nodded as she glanced down at my hand again, then turned her head to face me.
“Are you going to hurt me, Bates?” she asked softly.
“What?” I questioned in confusion.
She pulled her wrist from underneath my hand and got to her feet.
“Nothing. Have a good rest of your night and thank you for talking to me for a little while,” she said softly as she tucked her hair behind her ears.
“Wait, Hollis, don’t leave,” I said as I got to my feet quickly. “I’m not going to hurt you. That’s not my thing—to hurt females.”
After a few more seconds of quiet contemplation she sighed as she shook her head, before she finally sat back down again.
I wanted nothing more than that sigh to be one of bliss instead of feeling obligated to stay because I paid for the last drinks she ordered.
As I sat back down, I told myself that I’d find a way to make it happen before we parted ways for the night.
