My hiccups still hadn’t waned, though. At one point mid-conversation, Channing grabbed my glass of water and drank a sip before suddenly splashing it in my face. The surprise impact of the water hitting my skin caused a rush of adrenaline.

Drenched, I yelled, “What was that for?”

“For your hiccups!”

Wiping my face with a napkin, I said, “I told you not to scare me.”

“I bet they go away now, though.”

“Sure…now that I look like a drowned rat.”

“No, you don’t. You look beautiful.”

After that comment, it was necessary to remind myself that he was still in character.

Sure enough, the hiccups never returned as we continued our little roleplay game. Channing gradually pushed his chair nearer to me. His face was close to mine whenever he spoke. I could smell the beer on his tongue mixed with his cologne. There was likely no sexier scent on Earth than the combination of those two things. I was trying to ignore the fact that my panties were wet just from the closeness of his body and from the feel of his breath on my face. That made me realize how hard-up I was.

God.

After several minutes of talking, he leaned in and spoke directly in my ear, “I’m not far from the bar at all. How about we get out of here. Go back to my place.” His lips actually touched my skin, and his breath felt like it travelled through my ear canal and down to my vagina. It nearly did me in. This game was starting to play serious tricks on me. The urge to lean in, grab him by his hat, and bring him to my lips was enormous.

My heart started to pound. What would have happened if I said yes? Would I really go to his apartment—well, actually, my place?

Would the game continue beyond the bar?

Would we roleplay our way all the way into his bedroom?

Wishful thinking, maybe.

Finally, I answered him, “I would love to.”

Channing just kept staring at me. He was stuck. I’d totally stumped him.

He suddenly fell out of character and flashed me a look of warning. “You wouldn’t actually respond that way, would you?”

If we weren’t us, and you were you? I probably would.

Feeling stupid, I shook my head. “No. I was just playing along.”

“Good. Because you should never go home with someone you just met. Ever. I don’t care how good his game is,” he scolded. He was even hotter when he was angry.

Channing was staring off and looked seriously worried. Guilt washed over me, thinking about Gentleman Nine.

If he only knew about that. He’d kill me.

Channing never resumed character, and much to my chagrin, it seemed the game was over.

“Thank you for the practice run,” I said.

He simply nodded.

Surveying the room, I sighed. “It doesn’t look like you’re actually going to get to test your wingman skills out on me tonight, Lord.”

He chuckled. “We apparently picked the lamest bar in Boston.”

“It’s okay. I had no expectations. In my experience, nothing ever happens when you’re looking for it. You either have to make something happen for yourself, or it just falls into your lap when you stop searching. But when you’re sitting around passively waiting for something, typically it doesn’t happen. Sometimes, if you really need something, you have to take it into your own hands.”

His eyes looked like daggers. “What do you mean by that?”

I knew what I was referring to, but I wasn’t about to tell him.

When I hesitated, he said, “You know, I’m as wild as they come. But over time, I’ve learned to think before I act. When people are feeling vulnerable, they’re more likely to do something stupid. You might believe that you want certain things that you may not really want. You might be more likely to act on impulse without thinking something through. Spontaneity in life can be both good and bad, but many of the mistakes we regret for the rest of our lives were born from a moment of impulsivity. Sometimes, when you know you’re in a vulnerable state, it can be good to take a step back and check yourself.”

His words were random and oddly cryptic given what I’d been up to lately. It felt like God was speaking through him. I took those words in, but unfortunately, the longer we stayed in this bar and the more drinks I consumed, the more uninhibited and impulsive I felt.

“I think I need another drink,” I said. “How about you?”

“You want another Cosmo?”

“I would love one.”

When I took out my wallet, he placed his hand on mine. “I got it.” The feeling of his hand made my body react again.

As Channing walked over to the bar, I admired the curvature of his ass in the dark jeans he was wearing. He was charming the pants off the older, female bartender. I felt really fortunate to have this handsome man buying me a drink and to have his full attention tonight, even if we weren’t together romantically.