“I’m going to be honest,” I begin, “I have a fiancé, but there’s a guy that’s been following me and I think he’s here. I don’t know where he is, but I’m just saying, if you want to act like we’re together for the time being, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
Wells listens to my proposal with intrigue, one corner of his mouth curling in amusement. He pauses for a moment and then shifts his stance before setting his elbow on the table, “Won’t let me buy you a drink, but we’re already dating?”
I nod and tip my shoulder in a half shrug, “Pretty much.”
Wells glances off into space for a few moments with a thoughtful smile, “I’m crushed, I really am,” his eyes wander back to me, giving me a once-over, “but I guess I can help you out.” He gives a nod, “I’ll be your fake boyfriend.”
“Thanks,” I breathe a small sigh of relief.
“No offense, but from how your friend was talking,” Wells nods to Anna, “It sounded like she was attracting unwanted attention, not you.”
“Normally, I’d say yes, but this is a new thing and I don’t really know what to do about it.”
“How about your boyfriend? What’s he think about it?”
There’s no way I’m even going to try to explain to Wells who I think might be following me or what Bowen thinks about it. Instead, I just scrunch up my nose with an evasive smile, “It’s kind of a long story.”
Wells drops his head with a laugh, “Alright,” he nods, “fair enough.”
“I know you didn’t come here to stand next to me for no reason, so I get it if you’d rather not. I don’t want to ruin your night.”
“You’re not,” Wells’s expression doesn’t change, “being asked to stand next to a mysterious woman with gorgeous eyes and a secret past isn’t the worst night I’ve spent.”
“Let’s go with that,” I nod, “it makes me sound more exciting.”
“Since we’re official now,” he leans into my ear, “you want that drink? You can even come with me to order it yourself.”
The bar is crowded two rows deep, but waiting gives me something to do besides sit at the table scanning the crowd. I notice Wells’s arm slowly come into my periphery before he wraps it around my shoulders from behind.
He pulls me to his chest and leans over my shoulder, “Is this convincing enough?”
“Yeah,” I say with a laugh, “just act like I’m not a total stranger and we’ll be good.”
Still, I can’t help but look around, searching for someone who’s looking at me. Maybe I do need another drink, after all. I feel like I’m about to crawl out of my skin. And Wells’s arm around me should help the charade, but it only makes things worse.
“What do you do?” I ask, “Like, for a living.”
He leans into my ear, “Law enforcement.”
This should also reassure me. What better person to have standing next to me while I’m being watched and someone—known or not—is sending me creepy drinks? But, again, it doesn’t…
“So, what do you like?” Wells straightens up, his arm still hanging across my shoulders.
“I guess another gin and tonic,” I sigh.
He keeps scanning the bar for an opening, “I’m not talking about your drink.”
I roll my eyes and remember that Wells’s not here to be a pawn. It’s foolish to believe he’ll be totally complacent in my ulterior motives when he has motives of his own. He’s a wildcard, and this might be more difficult to pull off. I swallow hard, feeling more unsettled by the second.
Wells doesn’t care when I don’t answer him. But I feel his other hand start to move back and forth over my hip. Soon, it slides across my stomach, brushing against the waist of my jeans. I stare straight ahead, hoping to see a part in the crowd that I can make a beeline for. Finally, he moves his hand to my shoulder, but only to brush my hair away from my ear. Now, the sharp aroma of spice on his skin just seems invasive.
“Is this always your angle?” his voice sends a shiver down my neck.
I glance at him in my periphery, “What angle?”
“Pretending you already have a boyfriend.”
“I do have a boyfriend,” I say when I feel his hand on my waist again.
“No judgement,” slowly, he moves up my ribcage, “I think it’s really hot.”
My muscles tense the higher his hand goes, until I feel his thumb on the side of my breast. As soon as I move, he lets go of me and steps to the side. He cranes his neck and steps around me, peering around the people in front of us. Then he motions for me to follow him to the far side of the bar.
Thank God, I shake my head in irritation.
He leads me to the edge of the crowd where there are fewer people. My head is on a swivel as I continue scanning the room, searching for Colson—or anyone, for that matter—who’s looking my way. I don’t believe I’ll actually see anyone, especially in the dim light, it’s more compulsive at this point.
Wells looks over his shoulder to make sure I’m still there and I follow his shape in the corner of my eye. Still distracted, I vaguely see him turn to the side to let me step past him. And when I do, I look up to see pitch black hallway instead of the edge of the bar. Everything goes quiet and when I spin around, I hear the metallic clank of a heavy door slamming shut behind me.
I have made a huge mistake.
I’m so distracted by the idea of someone watching me, I don’t realize that I’m walking straight through a door. The walls are painted black and the corridor is lit by a single sconce halfway down the hall. I don’t know where it leads, but the only door I can see belongs to what looks like a storage closet about 10 feet away. It’s otherwise deserted except for Wells and me. I spin around to see Wells let go of the metal door handle.
He glances around the corridor before his eyes settle back onto me, “If you’re worried about someone watching you, you’re probably safe in here.”
Safe, my ass.
“What, are we just going to stand around in an empty hallway?” I laugh, trying to deflect as best I can.
