002

Rune’s POV:

“A tall glass of orange juice please.”

I sat down on the barstool, slamming my purse on the table with a loud thud.

“With a straw. Lots of ice. Two mint leaves.”

The bartender, a cute guy around my age, turned to me. He had a bottle of whiskey in his hand which he poured some to a customer seated beside me. “Just the juice?” He asked as he set the bottle in front of me, as if waiting for me to change my mind.

“Yes.” I said, my voice tight, coiled with anger. My fingers drummed into the surface of the table. I could already taste the juice at the back of my throat. “No alcohol, please.”

“A-alright. Coming up.”

A deep, riveting chuckle reached my ears.

“Orange juice? What do you think this is, a convenience store?” The voice that spoke was deep and rich, the kind that made shivers skittle down my spine.

It made my anger spike. As if fuel had been poured into it.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “No, it’s a fucking bar. I saw the sign outside. Who are you to care what—” I spun around to face the man. And immediately, my words died in my throat.

Fuck.

That was the right word.

I’d seen my fair share of sexy men, but this man easily took the cake. He was massive, muscles bulging beneath his expensive looking white shirt. He had dark hair parted in a side sweet, a sliver of gray at his temples. His eyes were a deep onyx, like the midnight sky during a snow storm. His features were sharp, the curve of his mouth sensual, his jaw line cut to precise definition…he was art.

My face flamed up, and I found myself sitting up tighter.

It was like God spent extra time sculpting and refining him, and used whatever clay was left to make the rest of mankind.

I swallowed, and inhaled to steady myself.

Fuck. Big mistake.

His scent coiled around me, sharp and masculine with a hint of something seductive underneath it.

“Who am I? The owner, little girl. This place is not meant for people who drink juice.”

I noticed his lips were moving before his words registered.

Thankfully, that snapped me out of my shameless leering of him.

“Here’s your drink,” the bartender said.

I snatched up the glass and took an obnoxious long suck. Then slammed it back down that the glass almost broke.

“Oh I’m sorry, dad. Pardon me for wanting a nice glass of juice after I just found my fiancé cheating on me. With his stepbrother! But oh, I’m so sorry that my choice in beverages annoys you! Accept my deepest apologies. Happy now?!”

He stared at me with something like disbelief in his eyes. Then he shook his head, a half smile tugging on his lips.

“That sounds like a lot,”

“No shit,” I hissed, sucking aggressively on my straw. “And I am not a little girl. I’m an adult who can make her own choices. I'm 24, by the way.”

And yet I chose to be here. Even though I hate the taste of alcohol. But really; who comes to a bar to drink juice?

A bar seemed like the right place to go. It was close to my apartment and I wasn’t about to trudge around in the snow.

Plus it’s warm here, and quiet. And there’s this hot man sitting beside me.

“So,” I turned to face him. “What are you doing here? Trying to solve Relationship problems with that glass of liquid death?” I scanned him, especially his hands.

Fuck me. He had big hands, so big they could wrap around my throat perfectly. Neat too, he had well groomed fingernails. He looked like the type of man who took good care of himself. A fancy watch peeked at me from his wrist.

A very fancy expensive watch.

“Your wife not treating you good?” I eyed him up. He’s sexy as fuck, would be a shame not to be snatched. “Husband, maybe?”

Fuck you, Anslem.

Yet as I cursed at my ex, I realized maybe I would have avoided this situation if I had just asked him: “do you have a secret boyfriend?”

The man met my gaze. There was something in his eyes what made me shiver and press my thighs together. It was something dark and animalistic.

Hungry.

“No wife, no husband either,” he said.

“Girlfriend? Side chick?”

“No. Why?”

I shrugged. “Shame to be single. With a face like yours.”

“I could say the same about you,”

Heat rose to my cheeks and I drank more of my juice. “W-whatever. Who cares about dating anyway. Too much drama.”

My fiancé left me for a man.

Gosh. I must look so tragic right now.

Anger burned inside me, simmering under my veins. It was mostly directed at myself. How did I not see the signs? How was I so blind? Was I so desperate for love that I overlooked so many red flags?

“I don’t even miss him,” I blurted out to rne stranger. “If anything; I’m going to miss my apartment. Now I can’t go back in there cos every time I look at my living room floor I’m going to see them. Fucking. Like rabbits. Gosh! they didn’t even have the decency to go to a hotel! No! They had to fuck in my apartment! Like who does that?!”

I drank more of my juice. It was almost finished.

“If he had just told me! Sure I would have done something! A lavender marriage, maybe! Who fucking cares if you’re gay?! Why did he have to hide it from me, for three fucking years.”

The bartender poured more juice. I gulped down half of it. At the back of my mind it registered that I was venting my life story to a total stranger.

Who cares? It’s not like I’ll see him again.

I noticed the way my head started to feel light. And the way heat started simmering under my skin. It was subtle at first. Like the slow heat of the morning sun, then it got hotter and hotter as the day went by.

The man was mostly silent, occasionally nodding and sipping his drink.

Yet his eyes.

They did a lot of talking.

I crossed my legs and leaned one hand on the bar top. “What’s your story? You’ve just been listening to me rant.”

“You have a beautiful voice,”

That caught me off guard. A beautiful voice? No one’s ever said that to me. The closest I got to a compliment on my voice was “do you ever stop yapping?” and that was from Anslem.

I cleared my throat and requested a refill. “Thanks, I guess. So you, why are you here?”

“No particular reason,”

“Hmm,” I raked my eyes over him again. God, he’s hot. Anslem doesn’t even begin to hold a candle.

Thinking of Anslem again made my anger flare up.

“Are you bored? Do you wanna try something fun?” I asked, leaning closer to him. Subtly, or not so, I nudged my foot into his shin. “I have a fun little idea,”

His eyes went down to where our bodies were touching. I may have been imagining it, but they flashed a different color for the faintest second.

It’s just the lights.

When he tracked his eyes back up to meet mine, my heart froze.

The intensity in his eyes made me want to shrink back, grab my purse and run away far away from here as possible.

Yet, that was the same reason that sent me leaning even closer to him. So close that I felt the warmth rolling off his body. Fuck, it must feel like heaven cuddling him in this cold weather.

“Define fun,” his voice was a throaty murmur, skidding across my skin and settling in my gut. Heat flooded my lower stomach, and I instinctively pressed my thighs together.

I shrugged. My heart pounded in my head, swallowing the sounds of the bar and echoing like a war drum.

What am I doing? Why am I acting this way! I’m not even drunk, I haven’t had one sip of alcohol all day.

Yet…it felt so right when my body moved.

So right, yet so wrong.

I closed the space between us and pressed my lips to his.

Sparks shot through my veins, warming my blood and sending it rushing straight to my clit. His lips were warm, and oh so soft, tinged with the taste of his expensive alcohol.

It lasted all of 1.5 seconds.

I pulled back sharply, my heart threatening to explode. I just kissed someone else…and I fucking liked it.

“You,” he said with a brief chuckle. “You’re bold,”

I blinked up at him, tilting my head to the side and letting my eyes shamelessly rake his body. “Wanna be my rebound, sir?”