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stools away. “You look
     more stable tonight.”
    Ah, yes. He’s the guy I fell into when trying to leave last week. “Hi.” I tilt my
     head, allowing my hair to frame my face. “And you look just as nice as you did when
     we first met. Do you work in the area?”
    “Yeah. I’m in finance—stocks and bonds mostly. You?”
    “Advertising sales exec at Smith and White.”
    A feral look sparks in his eye and I wonder if he could be what I’m looking for.
    “Want to go catch some dinner at a quieter place?” Tall and handsome asks.
    “I’d love to.”
    We leave the bar together and I can almost feel Andrew’s annoyance radiating toward
     us. That’ll show him once and for all I’m not interested.
     
     

Chapter Six
Andrew
     
    I cannot believe that little tease left with that meathead! My hands clench into fists
     and I have to physically press them under the edge of the bar to stop myself from
     chasing after her. Why does she go for the hulking, empty-headed guys? Why won’t she
     look at me with interest?
    I take a deep breath and will the logical part of my brain into working. Maybe because
     she can control them easier than she can me? After our night together I haven’t exactly
     reverted to the calm and easy-going guy she used to work with. Her response when I
     pleasured her is still etched in my mind. She reacted to my advances with an uninhibited
     sweetness; almost like her body was surprised she enjoyed it.
    The bossy, confident woman she presents to the world is not all that meets the eye
     with Carla. If she were secure in herself, why would she pick up strangers at a bar?
     I’ve seen it enough in my time as a musician—a lonely person looking for companionship,
     often making unwise choices for human contact.
    Could that be true with her, too? And if yes, how do I convince her I’m worth more
     than a one night stand?
    More importantly, why do you care? Why are you willing to take a risk on a woman who
     just figuratively thumbed her nose at you in public?
    Because there’s something about her… something that calls to me. Is it the vulnerability
     I saw in her eyes when we kissed in the copier room? Is it the freedom she only allows
     herself when she’s sleepy and her guard is down? She acts like she’s in charge, but
     I bet what she really needs is for the man to take control for a change.
    I throw my money on the bar and make the journey to my apartment. I knock twice on
     Rocko’s door to see if he’s in. A muffled “Yo!” comes from within. In a moment the
     door flies open and my neighbor stands bare-chested before me, wearing sweatpants.
    “Dude.” Rocko says, drawing out the word in a long greeting. “I’m going to the gym.
     Want to come?”
    The tension growing inside me from watching Carla walk out with another guy needs
     an outlet. “Sounds good. I’ll meet you downstairs in five.”
    Rocko nods and shuts his door.
    I quickly change and meet him in the building’s small basement gym. It’s nothing pretty,
     and the cramped space filled with old free weights is near the laundry room, but it
     gets the job done for a free work out.
    About forty-five minutes into our chest and back rotation Rocko says, “You going to
     tell me what’s eating you or do you plan on giving yourself an aneurism with the extra
     weight?”
    Sweat drips from my forehead as I push the bar to the top notch of the frame. I slide
     the weight into the start position, expelling air in a whoosh at the effort. I grab
     the hand towel I brought and mop the moisture from my eyes.
    “Little minx picked up a guy at the bar after work. Right in front of me.”
    “Damn.” Rocko whistles. “That’s harsh. Didn’t try coming on strong, like I suggested?”
    “I did. But maybe I wasn’t clear enough.”
    I rise, wipe the bench free of my sweat, and then stand behind the bar to spot Rocko
     on his set.
    “She’s sent you a clear message she’s not interested, man.” He wraps his hands