“Sure thing, hon,” she replies quickly, taking it from my hand and walking over the few steps behind the bar.
I move in front of her on the other side of the counter and wait, leaning forward while I watch her work. Her eyes flick up to a point behind me, presumably at the guys sitting at the table, and suddenly, her cheeks go even redder. A glance through the mirror behind the bar shows me they’re all snickering with their heads together.
“Oh, thosebastards.” Chrissy gasps. She misses as the beer fills the glass, pouring over the top. “They told you, didn’t they?”
“Told me what?” I ask coyly, but I can’t keep the smirk off my face when her eyes widen like she’s given herself away. She groans, passing the overfull beer to me as she rolls her eyes, but at least she’s smiling again.
“Ethan Carlson, you’re unbelievable.”
“Apparently, I’m also tragically single.” I chuckle. “So, I’m just as much a victim in this as you.”
“Well, what are we supposed to do then?” Chrissy smirks, shaking her head.
“In the interest of friendship, I’d like to leave that up to you.” I frown. “I’d hate to lose it if something goes wrong.”
Chrissy smiles again, and there’s a knowingness behind it. She nods her head. “Well, friend. Would you care to take me out on a date? No pressure, no commitments. Let’s see where the night takes us. If we ultimately decide we’d be a tragic match, we’ll part ways with no harm done, and we'll stay friends.”
“Deal.”
Chrissy bites her lower lip and leans forward, emphasizing how her tight shirt pulls against her chest, and my eyes instantly track the movement. I am but a simple man.
“I’m free Monday,” she says.
I grin. “All right. Monday it is. I’ll pick you up after I get off work?”
Chrissy nods, her face lighting up. She’s bouncy as she pulls a napkin out from behind the counter, snagging a pen from her apron. After writing her number down, she passes it to me.
“Text me, and we’ll go over the details,” she says, placing her hand over mine with a playful wink.
I can’t help but smile, taking the napkin and sticking it in my pocket. As she moves away to help one of the other patrons, she’s genuinely excited, like a ball full of sugar and sunshine, and it warms my heart to think I had something to do with that.
My eyes linger on her as I pick up the beer and turn toward my table.
In my distraction, I don’t notice the person walking past me until it’s too late, and I suddenly collide with them. The result is catastrophic.
The beer slips out of my hand and pours directly onto the person I smash into, drenching them across the front. The fallen glass crashes to the floor, breaking into a million pieces, and the whole bar goes dead silent. I’m mortified, frozen like a statue as I stare at the destruction on the floor, so it takes me a second to look up and see who I’ve just assaulted. But when I do, I throw out a whole string of curses at my bad luck.
“Do I need to worry if this was a hate crime?” Luke asks, standing with his arms out to his sides, staring down at his dripping wet shirt.
I gape at him, dumbfounded, before my brain kicks into gear, and I realize I need to help him. I reach for some napkins frombehind the bar, then I start dabbing at his shirt as if there’s any chance in hell that this will work.
It doesn’t even register that I’m basically groping his chest until Luke suddenly grabs my wrist to stop me and forcefully yanks it away from him, holding it out to the side.
With his touch, lightning zips up my whole arm, and my brain goes numb. The only thing I can think is that his grip is dangerously firm, and I notice how long and slender his fingers are as they wrap all the way around my wrist. His hand is very warm, too. My heart starts racing, catching my breath in a way that makes me think I might actually be having a heart attack.
Luke is frowning but not looking at me. He eventually releases my wrist, holding his hand out for the napkins. I pass them over, feeling a little foolish.
“Luke, I’m so sorry,” I mumble sheepishly.
Luke shushes me with a hand as he works on his shirt. When I try to apologize again, he gives me a little ‘Mn’sound, this time looking me dead in the eye. I can tell how pissed he is, but there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes as well. Seeing it somehow helps me calm down.
“Ethan, honey, are you all right?” Chrissy comes up behind me. Luke scoffs and glares down at her likehe’sthe one she should be asking, and I can’t help but want to agree.
“It’s okay.” I wince. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Do you have something I can clean this up with?”
Chrissy nods and brings me a rag, broom, and dustpan, and I bend down to start cleaning up the shards of glass and beer from the floor. It only takes me a few minutes, but when I’m done, Luke is still standing there, although he’s given up trying to dry his shirt. He’s staring at me strangely, too, but I have no idea what he’s thinking.
“Can I buy your drink or something to make up for it?” I ask meekly, rubbing a hand along my jaw.
