“I’ve narrowed it down to five reasons why a woman would throw a drink at a man.”
He leans back and crosses his perfectly toned arms over his chest.
“Impart your wisdom, oh wise bartender.” He takes another drink of his beer and—yet again—watching me like a hawk. I wish he’d stop watching me.
My confidence wavers under his intense stare but when I catch a knowing glint in his eye, it riles me up. There’s nothing worse than a guy who hides his unease behind a cocky façade, especially when I know there’s something genuine hiding there.
It’s one of the worst qualities a guy can have. It’s disingenuous and fake and if there’s two things I hate—in anyone—it’s that.
I square my shoulders and stand up straight, deciding to let him have it, putting my hands out in front of me to count on my fingers.
“One, you cheated on her.” He shakes his head, an amused smile playing on his lips.
“Two, connected to the first, you hooked up with her sister, best friend or mother . . .” He snorts at that one, chuckling under his breath as he shakes his head again.
“Right, then, the last three,” I continue. “Three through five are offending her family/job/friends or outfit, asking her to pay for your date and lastly, giving her an STD.”
His eyes grow wide and he sits bolt upright.