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Trenton turned, and then shook his head. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Then get the hell away from my bar,” I said with a smirk.
“Feisty,” Trenton said, shrugging a few times.
“Bud Light!”
“Margarita, please!”
“Hey, sexy,” a familiar voice said.
“Hey, Baker,” I said with a smile. He’d been slipping twenties into my tip jar for over a year.
Trenton frowned. “You’re missing your shirt,” he said.
I looked down at my leather vest. Yes, my tits were out to play, but I worked at a bar, not a day care. “Are you saying you don’t approve of my attire?” Trenton began to speak, but I put my finger against his lips. “Aw, that’s cute. You thought I was really asking.”
Trenton kissed my finger, and I pulled back my hand.
Raegan slid a shot to Trenton, and winked at him. He winked back, lifted his glass to her, and then walked across the dance floor to the pool tables, not ten feet from the fight Kody and Gruber were still struggling with. Trenton watched for a few more seconds, shot the complimentary whiskey from Raegan, and then walked to the middle of the mob. Like a drop of oil in a bowl of water, the squabbling group backed away.
Trenton said a few words, and Kody and Gruber escorted two of the guys toward the exit.
“I should offer him a job,” Hank said, watching the scene from behind me.
“He wouldn’t take it,” I said, mixing another drink. Unlike his little brother, I could tell that Trenton would rather not fight. He just wasn’t afraid to, and like the other Maddox boys, it was ingrained in him as a default option for solving a problem.
Every few minutes for almost an hour, I found myself scanning the room for that buzzed brown hair and white T-shirt. The short sleeves fit snug around his biceps and broad chest, and I inwardly cringed for noticing. Trenton had always stood out to me, but I’d never tried to get to know him well enough to figure out why. He’d obviously stood out to a lot of females, and the thought of waiting in line didn’t appeal to me, but I still noticed. It was hard not to.
Trenton leaned over to take the winning shot at one of the pool tables, his white hat turned backward. Clearly one of his favorites, the dingy white still made his leftover tan from summer look even darker.
“Holy cow balls! There’s already been two fights at the entrance!” Blia said, her eyes wide. “Need a break?”
I nodded, taking payment for the last cocktail I’d made.
“Don’t be long. This place is five seconds away from blowing up.”
I winked. “I’m just going to pee, smoke, and I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t ever quit us,” Blia said, already starting a drink order. “I’ve decided that I’m not ready for the east bar, yet.”
“Don’t worry. Hank would have to fire me first.”
Hank threw a wadded-up napkin at my face. “You don’t have to worry about that, killer.”
I playfully punched his arm, and then made a beeline for the employees’ bathroom. Once inside the stall, I shimmied my panties down to my knees and sat, the bass of the music outside keeping a muffled but steady beat. The thin walls vibrated, and I envisioned my bones doing the same.
After checking my phone, I set it on top of the gray plastic toilet paper container. Still nothing from T.J., but I was the last person to text. I wasn’t going to be the kind of girl who begged for attention.
“You ’bout done?” Trenton said from the other side of the stall.
My entire body tensed. “What the hell are you doing in here? This is the girls’ bathroom, Stalker Texas Ranger.”
“Did you just insinuate I’m comparable to Chuck Norris? Because I’ll take that.”
“Get out!”
“Calm down. I can’t see you.”
I flushed the toilet, and then pushed open the stall door so hard it slammed against the sink counter. After washing my hands, and pulling out a couple of paper towels, I made sure to glare at Trenton.
“Glad to see employees really do what the sign says. I’ve always wondered.”
I left him alone in the bathroom, and headed out the employee entrance door.
The moment I stepped outside the chill cooled the bare parts of my skin. Cars were still pulling in and parking haphazardly on the grass on the far side of the lot. Car doors were slamming, and friends and couples were walking to the entrance, slowed by a long line of college students waiting for others to leave so they could get in.
Trenton stood next to me, pulled out a cigarette and lit it, and then lit mine. “You should really quit,” he said. “Nasty habit. Not attractive for a girl.”
I craned my neck at him.
“What? I’m not trying to be pretty. I’m not a girl.”
“I don’t like you.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“I’m not trying to be pretty, either.”
“You’re failing.”
I peeked over at him, trying my hardest not to feel flattered. A warm feeling pooled in my chest, and then began to spread, making it all the way down to my fingers and toes. He had the best worst effect on me. As if everything I was—and wasn’t—was desirable. I didn’t even have to try. Trenton’s unrepentant appreciation for everything he knew about me was addictive. I found myself wanting more, but I wasn’t sure if it was the way he made me feel that I liked so much, or the familiar feeling. This was like my first three months with T.J. The warmth I’d felt a second before faded, and I began to shiver.
“I’d offer you my jacket, but I didn’t bring one,” Trenton said. “I have these, though.” He held his arms a bit away from his body, palms up.
I shrugged. “I’m fine. How was the last few hours of work tonight?”
He crossed his arms across his chest. “You’re doing too good of a job. Hazel was bitching that you weren’t there, and then Calvin started in, too.”
“Did you at least take up for me?”
“What did you want me to say? Shut the f**k up, Hazel! She’s a terrible worker and I don’t want her here!”
“A real friend would have.”
Trenton shook his head. “You make no f**king sense. But I think I like it.”
“Thanks, I think.” I pinched the cherry off my cigarette and stepped on it. “Back to work.”
