We were a popular attraction at parties back then.

Immediately Eva glances over her shoulder. Mouths the very filthy lyrics as they boom through the speakers. Those espresso brown eyes flashing with the challenge.

I lift a brow. “You really wanna go there?”

“Oh yeah,” she says, starting to move her shoulders to the beat. “Show me what you got, Mr. Suit and Tie.”

I fly through the next verse, not missing a damn thing. She laughs, and fuck me, I wanna pull her to me and lick my tongue into her mouth.

That filthy fucking mouth that’s still singing those filthy fucking lyrics.

I refrain from licking her. That’s something horny nineteen year olds do. Thirty-two-year-old dads still in the day’s work clothes need to have a little more decorum than that. Right?

The song ends. Eva bellies right up to the bar, dropping my hand to dig her wallet out of her bag. I plant that hand, still ringing with the memory of her touch, firmly on the bar. But I can’t resist standing close to her, my front to her back, as she waves down the bartender.

Close enough to give any scumbag in the vicinity definite back the hell off vibes.

I lean in. Murmur in her ear, “Please tell me you were kidding about the Jäger.”

Eva orders two Coronas and, turning, hands one to me. The beer is ice cold, bits of lime clinging to the mouth. Usually I don’t like fruit with my alcohol. But tonight, I want to see Eva lick this lime off her bottle.

“Of course I was. I’m fun, but I’m not a masochist—I don’t want to spend my Saturday puking. Cheers.” She touches her bottle to mine.

“What should we toast to?”

Her eyes are smiling. “Old friends?”

“But we were never friends.”

“Correction: we were always friends. We were just always more than that, too.”

“I’ll cheers to that.” Clanking bottles again, I tip back the beer. It’s delicious. Refreshing, a little tart on account of the lime. “It’s really good to see you, Eva. I needed this.”

She swallows her sip, and goddamn, her tongue darts between her lips, catching some of that lime from the corner of her mouth.

Is sex on the first date too much, too soon? Asking for a friend.

“I did too. Still can’t get over the fact that my friend and your brother are not only head over heels in love, but having a baby together. Small world.”

“I told you. Feels star-crossed to me.”

Eva takes another sip. Looks down at the bar.

“What?” I ask, feeling a twist inside my chest. Shit, am I coming on too strong? I’m not drunk, not yet, and I’m definitely not sloppy. I’m only trying to be honest. Screw games or playing it cool. That stuff is for spineless assholes.

It’s just been so long since I’ve done this. Since I’ve felt this. Anything close to this level of interest and arousal.