Apparently finding my footing means I’m a Grade A bitch.

Shit.

And why is he so damn attractive when he fights that little boy smile on his seriously sexy, grown-man body?

“Forget I said that.” I hold my hands up. “I apologize. You didn’t deserve that.”

He angles his head to the side and those ice-blue eyes hold mine. “You’re right. I didn’t. And it’s a little presumptive to think I’m here asking for your number.”

It’s my turn to stutter. “I’ve sworn off men so I assure you I didn’t say that. Or even think it.”

“Yes, you did. You wouldn’t have been so protective of us and our conversation if you hadn’t.”

“Protective of us?”

“You ran off my admirer.” His words are accusatory but his smile and expression are playful.

I don’t want them to be playful or him to be attractive or sexy. Charming. That’s what he is in the most lethal of ways. He’s not my type—so very far from it—and last I checked, I’ve sworn off men for the time being after Fuck You, Paul showed me his true colors.

But he is flirting with me, isn’t he?

Get a grip. Being nice is not the same thing as flirting. Clearly, I need an ego boost if I’m thinking some tattooed hottie in the coffee shop is flirting with me when all he did was bring me something I dropped and tell me my name is fitting.

“You’re overthinking,” he asserts.

“And you’re presumptive and—”

“Perhaps.” He shrugs. “But regardless of what you say, I know a woman who wants me when I see one.”

Jesus. Good thing I wasn’t taking a sip of my coffee or I’d have just spit it out. “Did you really just say that?”

His eyes light up. “I did.”

“Leave it to a man to think he’s the center of every woman’s world.” I shake my head and take a seat to facilitate this conversation being over. “I take back my apology. You do, in fact, need to find more dignity.”

He purses his lips and nods as if the hint to leave me alone has been heard but then taps his finger on the table beside my iced coffee. “For what it’s worth, Hendrix, he sounds like an asshole.”

“Who does?” My eyes meet his, yet my mind’s still repeating the way my name sounds rolling off his tongue.

“Whoever you were talking to on the phone. The man who made you swear off men, I presume.” He holds his hands up. “Unsolicited opinion and all.”

“You know what they say about opinions.” I lift my eyebrows as if they’re finishing the old adage for me.

“I do. Funny how willing you were to give yours though, so what does that say about you?”