“Last night was the first time you got drunk?” Nick spoke, surprising the hell out of me.

Roxy nodded as she headed for a girl who was waving her hand like she’d been standing there for ten minutes when it had only been like ten seconds.

“What did you drink?” he asked.

“Tequila,” answered Jax, winking at me. “She was liking some tequila.”

Nick’s lips pressed together. “That’s some strong shit.”

“Well, I’m never, ever drinking again,” I told him, heading for where my apron was stashed. With all the seasoned bartenders behind the bar, I needed to be out on the floor helping Pearl since Gloria was MIA.

Nick nodded. “Okay.”

“Like never.”

There was a tiny movement in his lips, like he was so close to smiling. “Gotcha.”

I stared at him a moment, actually stopped in the middle of the floor behind the bar, and stared at Nick. “Tequila is a dirty whore,” I told him.

A low, husky chuckle slipped out of him. “I’ve heard that before.”

My lips split into a smile.

Jax’s hand wrapped around mine. “You’re coming with me.”

My gaze went from Jax’s face to where his hand closed around mine. “Going where?”

He didn’t answer, but gently tugged me along, walking me past the apron and toward the exit of the bar. More curious than annoyed, I let him lead me down the hall to the office. He pulled me inside, shutting the door, and I remembered the last time he’d done this. He’d kissed me, but it hadn’t been a real kiss.

Jax didn’t let go of my hand as he leaned against the edge of the desk, and he didn’t say anything.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the next and tried to pull my hand back, but he didn’t let go. “What?”

“I want to take you out on a date Sunday.”

“What?” I hadn’t expected that. Nope.

A grin flashed across his face. “A date. You and me. Sunday night. Not at the Waffle House.”

My ears were deceiving me. There was no way he was saying what I thought he was.

“There’s this new steak house in town. Only been open a year or two, but everyone loves it,” he continued as he watched me. “I can pick you up at six.”

“You . . . you are seriously asking me out on a date?”

“I seriously am.”

Two things were happening inside me. One was the rush of warmth that was whipping everywhere, lighting me up from the inside. The other was icy disbelief. I didn’t understand why he was asking me out, unless it was some kind of weird, pity date.

My stomach tumbled.

Oh my God, it was a weird, pity date.

“No,” I said, pulling my arm. He didn’t let go, but I also wasn’t going to be a part of this. “I’m not going on a date with you.”

His hand slipped off mine and slid to my wrist. “I think you are.”