Chapter Three
Dawson
I leaned against the bar at Lost Deer Bar, catching the bartender’s eye. “House draft,” I called when she looked my way.
I’d done my share of flirting with Delilah Carter, but that was all it had ever been. I would even admit I actually tried to take her home one night. Rather, I tried to persuade her to take me home. I didn’t take women home with me. That sent too many mixed messages.
Delilah had flicked her ponytail over her shoulder and rolled her eyes so hard they almost fell out of her head. She’d told me she had more than enough men to flirt with her, and she certainly didn’t need a one-night stand. We’d been friends ever since.
Delilah rested her hips against the cooler as she slid the pint of beer across the glossy wood bar to me. “Here you go, hot stuff.
