Excerpt
Copyright 2021 A.M. Williams
It was rude to stare. I knew this. I knew this, and I didn’t care. Want to know why? The hottest man I’d ever seen in my entire life just walked into The Splinter. It felt cliche to say that it was like that slow-mo entrance you see in the movies, but it really was like that. A group of guys came in before him and he trailed them. It was like God smiled down on me when he did, too. It was raining, so his hair was wet. Once inside, he reached up to run his hands through his hair, shaking the water out of it. And his hair was gorgeous. This thick, lush brown color that was begging me to go over and help him shake the rest of that water out. I didn’t because that would be weird. Much weirder than me being a creep from across the bar as I watched him join his friends at the table they’d claimed near the pool tables. Those same pool tables I was sitting at with my friend and her friends. Though I wasn’t sure how good of a friend she was with them because there was something off about some of them. They were nice, but catty. I’d never had many female friends growing up because I was a little awkward and lived in my head. So I also wasn’t the best at reading people. Maybe my read was wrong. But I didn’t think so. They smiled when Cass introduced me, and they tried to include me in conversation initially. But then I was quickly forgotten by everyone except for Cass. I was okay with that. I liked people watching. Hence me noticing Mr. Good Looks when he walked in. And I wasn’t the only one to notice him, either. The Cat Pack had as well. “Did you see who just walked in?” one girl, a redhead, breathed. “I did. I’ve never known him to come out before,” a brunette responded. Cass sent me a look, nibbling her bottom lip, before looking back at her friends. What was that about? I sucked on my straw, it making the awfully slurping sound to tell me my drink was empty. That was my cue. While the women were caught up in discussing Mr. Good Looking and his hot friends, I slipped away. Instead of going right for the bar, I veered toward the jukebox. I wasn’t too interested in picking a song to play, but I wanted some time away from Cass’s friends. I flicked through the selections before digging a dollar from my pocket and feeding it to the machine and picking my songs. Knowing I’d have to wait awhile, I turned toward the bar. As I wound through the thickening crowd, I couldn’t help looking toward Mr. Good Looking to get another fix. I caught sight of him and did a quick scan before forcing myself to look in front of me and not at him. He would star in my fantasies later tonight
About A.M. Williams
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