Page 3 of Forever Offsides

“Something like that. You in?”

I nod, and he tosses it in the air before he catches it and flips it onto the dorsum of his other hand.

“Call it.”

“Heads.”

He lifts his hand and frowns. “Shit. I always win that one.”

“Sucks to be you, I guess. Go on. You’re first. Rules are rules.”

His eyes flicker between mine for a long beat before he huffs out a resigned sigh and heads into the bathroom. I pull out my phone and shoot a quick text to my intern to let her know that my date was a dud, and I already ended it. My stomach grumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten anything since this morning. I’ve already had two martinis I’m beginning to feel the effects of.

I need food, and the serious question is, do I grab something here and take it with me, or do I pick up a burrito on my way home? What a busted-up night. At least the bathroom guy is hot. That’s a fun little bonus.

I snicker to myself just as the bathroom door opens and he steps out.

“Your turn.” He holds the door open and tosses the paper towel he was using to dry his hands into the bin just inside the bathroom door. He used the towel to open the door instead of using his clean hand, and the surgeon in me loves that.

“Thanks.”

I go to scoot by him when he shifts in front of me, blocking my entrance and making it so that I almost bump into him. “Are you here with someone?”

I step back from his chest and peer up. “Huh?”

“I’m asking because if you are, I’ll go back to the bar and leave it at that. If you’re not, then maybe when you’re finished, you’ll come join me, and I can buy you a drink or dinner.”

Well then.

I debate this. It’s already been a long day and a long evening, and there’s no way this guy will turn out to be anything as great as he seems. He’ll be yet another disappointment I eat a king-sized Snickers over. At least the Snickers leaves me satisfied.

“I’m here with someone.”

He studies me for a moment before he nods and steps to the side. “Shame. Enjoy your night, Quinn.”

“Thanks.” I race into the bathroom and lock the door. I catch my reflection in the mirror and fan my red face while I giggle lightly to myself. That man gave me butterflies and hard nipples. Maybe I should go and meet him at the bar. Lord knows I could use some sex.

I snicker, the alcohol having fun with me. I do my business and wash my hands, and when I exit the bathroom, he’s still there as if he were waiting for me.

The door shuts behind me and I fold my arms again, giving him an impatient look. “This is stalking.”

He laughs and holds out a hand to me. “Nah. It’s simply seeing if you’ll reconsider my offer. Your date just left. You know, the one you walked out on.”

“How did you know I was on a date or that I walked out on him?”

“You caught my eye when you came in tonight, and I saw you shake hands with that douchebag before you sat across from him. I also watched you get up and leave him.”

“So you saw me coming for the bathroom and decided to intercept me?”

He hitches up a shoulder and rubs the back of his neck. “This is sounding bad, and yeah, maybe it does make me come across as a bit of a stalker. I assure you, I’m not. I’m a totally normal guy. I just wanted to talk to you. That’s all. You’re beautiful, and as I said, you caught my eye and held my attention, and that’s not something that happens very often to me. Then you opened your mouth, and you’re smart and interesting, and I didn’t want to go back to the bar without giving it another shot. Just a drink and dinner. I promise.”

Those butterflies are back.

“What’s your name?” I ask him.

“Rhett.”

“Like Rhett Butler?” Gone with the Wind was one of my grandmother’s favorite movies growing up, until she came to see its numerous faults, including how it romanticized slavery.