She sighed. “I think so, too.”
Darcy’s grin widened. “You’re seriously considering it, aren’t you?”
“If I see a guy I like, I just might.”
Her own words surprised her, but they made sense. What was so wrong with hooking up with a stranger in a bar? People did wild things like that all the time. Maybe right now she needed to be a little wild.
Darcy leaned back in her seat, pensive. “What’s your pseudonym going to be?”
“My pseudonym?” she echoed.
“Yeah. If you’re going to do this right, you need total anonymity. Be someone else for the night. Like Yolanda.”
“No way,” she objected with a laugh. “I’d rather just be myself.”
“Fine.” Darcy’s shoulders drooped.
“We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Shouldn’t I pick the guy first?”
Darcy’s enthusiasm returned. “Good point. Okay. Let’s spin the man wheel and see who it lands on.”
Stifling a laugh, Hayden followed her friend’s lead and swept her eyes around the crowded bar. Everywhere she looked, she saw men. Tall ones, short ones, cute ones, bald ones. None of them sparked her interest.
And then she saw him.
Standing at the counter with his back turned to them was the lucky winner of the man wheel. All she could see was a head of dark brown hair, a broad torso in a navy blue sweater and long legs encased in denim.
Oh, and the ass. Hard not to notice that tight ass.
“Excellent selection,” Darcy teased, following her gaze.
“I can’t see his face,” she complained, trying not to crane her neck.
“Patience, grasshopper.”
Hayden watched the man drop a few bills on the sleek mahogany counter and accept a pint glass of beer from the bartender. When he turned around, she sucked in an impressed gasp. The guy had the face of a Greek god. Chiseled, rugged, with intense blue eyes that caused her heart to pound, and sensual lips that made her mouth tingle. And he was huge. With his back turned he hadn’t seemed this big, but now, face-to-face, she realized he stood well over six feet and had the kind of chest a woman wanted to rest her head on. She could see the muscular planes of his chest even through his sweater.
“Wow,” she muttered, more to herself than Darcy.
A shiver of anticipation danced through her as she imagined spending the night with him.
Beer in hand, the man strode toward one of the pool tables at the far end of the bar and headed for the cue rack. Setting his glass on the small ledge along the wall, he grabbed a cue and proceeded to rack the balls on the green felt table. A second later a tall, lanky college-age kid approached and they exchanged a few words. The kid snatched up a cue and joined Mr. Delicious at the table.
Hayden turned back to Darcy and saw her friend rolling her eyes. “What?” she said, feeling a bit defensive.
“What are you waiting for?” Darcy prompted.
She glanced at the dark-haired sex god again. “I should go over there?”
“If you’re serious about getting laid tonight then, yeah, go over there.”
“And do what?”
“Shoot some pool. Talk. Flirt. You know, look under the hood before you commit to buying the car.”
“He’s not a car, Darce.”
“Yeah, but if he was, he’d be something dangerously hot, like a Hummer.”
Hayden burst out laughing. If there was one thing to be said about Darcy, it was that she truly was one of a kind.
“Come on, go over there.”
She swallowed. “Now?”
“No, next week.”
Her mouth grew even drier, prompting her to down the rest of her wine.
“You’re seriously nervous about this, aren’t you?” Darcy said, blue eyes widening. “When did you become so shy? You give lectures to classes of hundreds. He’s just one man, Hayden.”
Her eyes drifted back in the guy’s direction. She noticed how his back muscles bunched together as he rested his elbows on the pool table; how his taut backside looked practically edible in those faded jeans.
He’s just one man, she said to herself, shaking off her nerves.
Right.
Just one tall, sexy, oozing-with-raw-masculinity man.
