“It’s a distraction thing,” Taylor admitted. She leaned forward and put her chin on her fists. So she was staring at the guy. So what. She could do that, right? He was too pretty not to stare. “I sort of lose track of what I’m doing sometimes and then boom, there goes all bodily function.”
His mouth crooked up in amusement. “You must really lose yourself in the moment.”
“Oh, yeah,” she breathed. “I sort of focus in”—she pointed at her eyes—“and wham, everything else fades away.” The look he was giving was more speculative and a bit more sexy than she was used to. Was he trying to turn her statement about focus into something dirty? She squirmed in her seat. “I’m sure it happens to everyone.”
“Not quite the same,” Loch said, and then the TV over the bar turned to a sports channel. Soccer. He gave a thumbs-up to the bartender, and a moment later Doug came to get their orders. They both got a burger, and Loch got a Guinness, which made her wrinkle her nose. She stuck to craft beer. The drinks arrived first, and she took a swig of her pale ale. Delicious.
“So do you have a boyfriend, Taylor?” Loch asked as he sipped his beer.
Oh, mercy. The look he was giving her wasn’t tour-guidey in the slightest. It was down to fuck—DTF. Hoo, boy. And she wasn’t the type to have flings or hookups.
Well, except for the one time at the Excelsior convention, but she didn’t like to talk about that.
But Loch? God, Loch was eminently hook-up-able. She could see herself climbing him like a set of monkey bars and having no regrets. Sure, he’d never call her again, but would she even care? He was hot, he was European, and she’d only see him again at Gretchen’s wedding in about six months. Taylor licked her lips. “No boyfriend.”
As if to remind her of her commitments, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Ugh. Sigmund.
“Just guy friends. I’m not dating anyone, though.”
“Not even the chap online?” He took a healthy swig of his beer and watched her with hooded eyes.
“Never met him, and he’s just a guy that has trouble taking no for an answer.” She locked her fingers around her bottle of beer, clasping it tight.
“You want me to have a word with him?”
Her eyes widened, and then she shook her head. “He’s just . . . weird. And going through some stuff. We’re friends online but that’s it. Trust me when I say that there’s not a guy in my life.”
“Got a feeling that if there was, your friend Gretchen wouldn’t be so eager for us to go out, hey?”
Taylor laughed, relaxing. “She was pretty obvious about it, wasn’t she?”
“I’m not sure she knows the meaning of subtle.”
“You got that right.” Taylor tilted her beer toward his. “Shall we vow to just be friends and ignore her attempts at matchmaking?”
“I didn’t say that,” Loch said slowly. His mouth curled again, and there were the dimples.
Yeah, if she could reach her panties right now, she’d be flinging them off.
“I’m probably not your type,” Taylor blurted.
“You’re not. But that’s why I like you. I’m trying to experience new things while in America.”
“Am I one of the new things you’re going to experience?” The words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them.
His eyes widened and he laughed again, a hearty laugh that she just flat-out adored. He just looked as if he was having so much fun all the time. “Evening’s early yet, Taylor. We can see where it goes.”
“I’m not turning down the idea, of course. I mean, if I was ever going to hit it and quit it, it’d be you.”
“Thank you for that,” he said gravely.
She waved a hand in the air. “You know what I mean. Jeez, am I out of beer already? I think I need another.” She waved at Doug.
“Don’t get drunk on me,” Loch murmured, leaning in. “I refuse to take advantage of a drunk woman.”
“So I have to be sober if I want to be taken advantage of?”
He laughed again. “Something along those lines. How about just not sloppy drunk?”
She winced. “I am a pretty bad drunk.”
“You don’t say.”
“Very clumsy.”
“God in heaven, help us all if you’re somehow worse.”
She wagged a finger at him and they exchanged smiles. Conversation lulled for a moment. Loch watched the screen over the bar, and new beers were brought to both of them. This was nice, Taylor decided. She wasn’t online. She wasn’t raiding or playing a video game and she wasn’t checking her app that let her communicate with her friends that were online. For once in the last few months, she was absolutely in the middle of real life and not in the middle of a game.
It was oddly relaxing. “So who’s winning the soccer game?”
“Barcelona, but they just got a yellow card.”
“I have no idea what that is.”
His eyes lit up and he began to go on and on about the rules of soccer. Apparently a yellow card was a penalty of some kind and blah blah blah. Taylor just propped her chin on her hands again and watched him talk. He was so stinking handsome. Disney prince levels of handsome. It didn’t matter that he was completely wrong for her and she was completely wrong for him. She could watch him talk all day. His eyes were shining and he was gesturing at the TV and then drawing a make-believe field he was sketching out on the table with a French fry, and she felt like she could watch him for hours.