Chapter 3: An idiot who can't take a hint.
She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she barely noticed the subtle shift in the atmosphere around her, the faint scent of something sharp and clean, woodsy with a hint of citrus, cutting through the lingering aroma of alcohol and cigarette smoke.
The sound of a chair scraping against the floor registered only vaguely before a smooth, confident voice broke through her haze, each word laced with an easy charm that seemed almost practiced. "Didn't expect to find such a cute and petite beauty drinking all alone at a place like this."
Rory blinked, her lashes fluttering as she turned her head slightly, just enough to take in the man who had just settled beside her. Blond hair, tousled in an effortless way that suggested it had been styled just enough to look like it hadn't. A tight-fitting white shirt stretched over a lean, sculpted frame, its sleeves rolled up just enough to expose the veins along his forearms, while dark, fitted jeans completed the look of someone who knew exactly how to command attention without even trying. His sharp jaw rested lightly against his right hand, a slow, knowing grin curving his lips as his striking eyes, mischievous and unreadable—studied her with keen interest.
"You may call me Ethan," he introduced himself smoothly, his grin widening just a fraction as he tilted his head, watching her as though expecting an immediate reaction. "And you are?"
Instead of the coy smile or playful response he clearly anticipated, Rory simply let out a slow breath, her expression annoyed as she turned away from him completely, lifting her wine bottle once more and pouring herself another glass.
Without so much as sparing him another glance, she downed it in one swift gulp, the warmth spreading down her throat as she set the empty glass back onto the counter with a quiet but deliberate thud.
Ethan's grin flickered for the briefest moment, his brows lifting slightly as if taken aback, though the amused glint in his gaze never truly wavered. Most women would have met his flirtation with either shy smiles or playful banter, maybe a breathless giggle or an attempt to impress him in return. But this woman, petite and undoubtedly beautiful in a way that made her rejection all the more unexpected, hadn't even spared him the courtesy of a polite acknowledgment.
Instead of feeling dismissed, he found himself intrigued.
Tapping his fingers lazily against the counter, he let out a quiet chuckle, low and thoughtful, before leaning in slightly, as if trying to gauge just how deep her indifference ran. "Well, well," he mused, his voice carrying the faintest hint of amusement, his gaze never leaving her. "This is a first."
" Please don't even...."
" Huh?" Ethan's face turned confused.
" I only came here for a drink and nothing else..." She flashed Ethan an irritated sideways glance. " If you're really the desperate type, I'm sure they're other women around here willing to entertain you."
Rory's word left Ethan even more surprised, He felt speechless, not knowing what to say. He found it hard to believe that an average girl like her who had no interest in entertaining the flirtations of a stranger, no matter how effortlessly handsome or confident he seemed to be, actually existed.
' Could she be gay?' he wondered while scrutinizing her with his gaze.
Rory on the other hand continued to slouch on the counter unbothered by Ethan's lingering gaze. Tonight, there was only one thing she wanted, and it wasn't mindless conversation with a man who thought he could charm her into forgetting the ache in her chest.
Ethan, however, had never been the type to walk away from an interesting challenge.
He reached forward without the slightest hesitation, his fingers curling around Rory's empty glass as if it belonged to him, lifting the bottle of wine she had been drinking and pouring himself a generous amount. The deep red liquid shimmered under the low bar lights, catching Rory's attention just as she turned back from her thoughts.
Her gaze snapped toward him, momentarily caught off guard by his audacity, a flicker of disbelief passing through her whiskey-hued eyes before her brows drew together in irritation. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked, her voice laced with annoyance, her arms folding tightly across her chest.
' looks like I finally got your attention.'
Ethan, entirely unbothered, merely swirled the wine in his glass before bringing it to his lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip before letting out a satisfied sigh. "Well, since you don't seem to be in the mood for a conversation, I figured we could at least share something else, like this bottle of wine. After all, what's the point of drinking alone when there's someone sitting right next to you? Misery loves company, doesn't it?" His lips curled into an infuriatingly amused smirk as he set the glass down with a soft clink.
Rory's fingers twitched against her arm, her petite knuckles aching as she fought against the sudden, overwhelming urge to punch him square in the face.
The sheer arrogance, the nerve. Who the hell did he think he was? Her eyes burned with barely concealed frustration, but she exhaled sharply and forced herself to look away, knowing better than to let herself get riled up over some cocky stranger. "Suit yourself," she muttered, her voice clipped, though the tension in her shoulders betrayed her lingering irritation.
' Now we're getting somewhere.' Ethan chuckled at her reaction, clearly enjoying himself as he took another slow sip of the wine, his gaze never wavering from her. "You know, I'm usually pretty good at reading people," he mused, his voice rich with an easy confidence, "and I can tell when someone is drowning in their own thoughts, trying to push the world away with every drink they take. You don't strike me as the type who sulks over nothing, so I can only assume something or rather, someone, must have done quite the number on you."