“Can you cover him for an hour?” she asks calmly. “He needs a break.”
Matt turns to me.
I don’t look at him. “I don’t need a break,” I say evenly.
Matt walks over anyway, drying his hands on a rag. He studies both of us, eyes flicking back and forth. A slow, shit-eating grin spreads across his face. “Oh, hell yeah,” he says. “The ‘I’m gonna fuck her senseless later but right now I’m pretending she doesn’t exist’ classic. My favorite.”
Sisk folds her arms. “What did you say?”
Matt just smirks at her. “You know the kind of fight where he’s got a hard-on for being right and you’re about to prove him wrong. Again.” He looks me dead in the eye. “Am I wrong, Jax? Or you gonna stand there looking like a constipated statue all night?”
My head turns toward him, slowly. “You got a thing for broken bones?”
He just barks. “Nah. I just like watching you get your balls handed to you. It’s good for the soul.”
“Don’t.”
“Alright, alright. Touchy fucking subject. My bad.” He grins, backing away. “I’ll just be over here, enjoying the show. Let me know when you’re done being a little bitch.”
I’m about to remind him who the fuck he’s talking to when some whiskey-flushed asshole at the bar leans toward Sisk, emboldened by liquid courage and a fucking death wish.
“Well damn,” he says, eyeing her openly. “Didn’t know this place came with a view.”
I keep wiping the same spot on the counter, a perfect circle forming under the rag.
“Hey, bartender,” he adds, tapping the wood with two fingers. “Get her something decent. My tab.”
“She’s not drinking.”
He chuckles like we’re all in on the same joke. “And who asked your opinion?”
I go back to wiping.
He leans closer to her and Sisk shifts slightly on the stool. “I can speak for myself,” she says lightly.
The man smiles wider. “Even better.”
“I’ll have whatever he’s having.”
The guy grins at me. “You heard her.”
She thinks that’s going to push me over the edge after what she admitted earlier. She’s wrong.I’m already there.
I pour the drink and set it in front of her without breaking eye contact.
“So what’s your name?” the guy asks, leaning closer.
She tilts her head. “Why?” she asks mildly. “You planning to remember it tomorrow?”
The guy laughs, undeterred. “Maybe I am.”
“Doubt it,” she replies. “You don’t look like you remember much past midnight.”
Matt coughs to hide a laugh.
The guy’s smile tightens. He shifts closer on the stool, invading her space. “Try me,” he says. “I’m very good at follow-through.”
My jaw locks. “Careful.”
