No, I tell myself. It’s my hormones. Any seductive gaze in here could spark the same effect in my body.
I've been extra careful not to touch anyone tonight. The cocktail goes on the bar and the customer picks it up there. No need for a handoff. No need to chance brushing fingers while I'm a powder keg.
Wiping my forehead with my forearm, I try to ignore how his eyes shine through the crowd, piercing my skin and heating my blood. I didn’t think I’d be the girl who went for the guy even after he negged her, but apparently my coochie doesn’t care what self-esteem he wrecks, as long as he destroys her too.
Stupid hormones.
After a full day of studying, and attacks both physical and emotional, I’m grateful to move and respond to orders without thinking. Still, the dragon lives rent free in my head, whispering that if I don’t get it together, I won’t pass her class.
Goldie catches my attention as she plays coy with the guy at the bar. Must be the newest dude on the chopping block. His teeth are almost too straight, too white. He sports designer clothes like a second skin. He’s handsome in that classic rich boy way, and Goldie always falls flat on her face for those guys. But their beauty masks their red flags up front, making it hard to tell how much scum lays under the veneer.
I turn away, reminding myself I shouldn’t judge, because I’m sure as hell not an expert at picking prospects. Still, I hope a tear-stained Goldie doesn’t end up on my doorstep a week from now.
Thankfully, the rest of the shift is uneventful apart from the usual hustle. When the last people filter out and I’m onto closing duties, Rap strides toward me. Brexley has disappeared, but it’s too much to hope he took off.
“Red, were you serious about going over the books with me? We can put your major to work on setting up my retirement plan even if that’s not for another hundred years.”
My entire body lightens. “Yes, of course. If you want me to.” This is it. This is the feeling I’m chasing. Helping and supporting people with their financial goals. Maybe this is what having magic would have felt like.
She gives a curt nod. “Good, we’ll talk about it after your finals are done.”
I bite my lower lip to keep from completely beaming. But before I can get too excited, the front door opens, and someone enters.
“We’re closed,” Goldie calls out as she throws a tray of dirty glasses into the dishwasher.
I connect with the newcomer’s gaze, and the floor drops out from under me.
Intense brown eyes, and a clear complexion accompany a strong jaw. The man walks in with an expression as serious as the lines in his lean body.
“Hunter,” I breathe.
Memories tumble in my mind, memories of us entangled in a broom closet at FFA. Of us meeting at midnight under a tree just to share a kiss while I held back my every instinct to mount him like an animal. To keep the violence and intensity at bay, so he would kiss me just once more.
My body turns molten and everything inside of me is on fire with desire, but every part of me aches with the pain of longing. The kind that gathers pain between your eyes and makes your breath inhospitable in your own body.
“Red,” Hunter says, his jaw tightening, making his temples flex. “I’ve been trying to find you.” He sounds so concerned.
Pangs of longing and grief explode somewhere in my heart.
“He’s a mage,” Rap mutters the fact with distaste.
“I’m sorry,” I say, bowing my head. “I’ll get him out of here.”
“You causing trouble, Red?” Rap asks, making heat flood my cheeks.
I really love this job, and I hate that magic and my past keeps popping up, endangering that.
“Trouble keeps finding me,” I confess. It sure as hell isn’t because I’m starting it. I just want to bartend with my friends and pass my finals.
Rap raises an eyebrow at him and purses her lips. “He can stay. Fifteen minutes, and then I’ll be back to put him out on his ass.” Then she disappears back to her office.
Numbly, I turn to Goldie and Cinder who are now at attention because they realize the guy here is the same one I once mentioned in a drunken stupor. “You got this for a minute?”
Cinder shoots me the thumbs up, while Goldie only studies Hunter with a line between her brows.
I round the bar and gesture for him to follow me to the far side of the bar. He follows to where the massive tree limbs hang over the lounge chairs. I can’t bring myself to sit down, but I clutch the back of a chair, putting it firmly between us.
Hunter stays standing and scans me from head to toe. “You look . . . different.”
