Page 31

“I mean, like, he's an employee now. No dating allowed.”

The woman only snorts before returning to the cocktail she’s mixing. “Who's the boss here? You or me?”

“Which is exactly why he's not fucking available.”

Devon shoots me a look over his shoulder, brows furrowed at my whispered shout. I twirl my finger, silently motioning for him to turn back around, which he does—but not without an eye roll. I'm honestly pissed at how well he’s been handling the busy shift tonight. He does everything asked of him without complaint. It's fucking irritating.

I hadn't even meant to get the asshole a job, but apparently, drunk me gets all in his feels and shit. I hardly remember that night other than begging my boss on my knees before downing more vodka. Woke up in my bed the next morning, hungover as hell, with a junkie detoxing on my couch. Logan was pretty pissed at me, too.

“Someone’s territorial,” Juanita snickers, sliding the finished drink across the bar. “Relax, mijo. He's too young for me.”

Taylor breezes by with a tray full of food, catching the end of her sentence. “Nonsense, boss lady. You don't look a day over thirty.”

“Kissing ass won't get you out of sidework!” she calls after him.

Dev chuckles as he stretches his arms above his head, causing his shirt to ride up. A sliver of pale skin peeks out on his abs, jeans hanging low enough to nearly show off his cock. I don't realize I'm staring until Juanita clears her throat. Loudly.

When I scowl at her, she simply nods pointedly at a customer down the bar needing my attention. I'm almost tempted to flip her off, but last time I did that, she made me prep-cook and I fucking hate that shit, so I just scoff and get back to work.

A bit later, just as I'm pulling a rack of shot glasses out of the dishwasher, Taylor sidles up and nudges me with his shoulder. “We’re still practicing this weekend, right?”

My jaw tightens, but I force my face to remain neutral. “Maybe. Don't know.”

He frowns, crossing his inked arms over his chest. “Why does it feel like you're avoiding me, man? We haven't even seen each other outside of work since my birthday.”

“That tends to happen when you live in separate places,” I grumble, aggressively stacking cups.

Taylor's eyes narrow, and fuck me, I didn't mean for that to sound so… whiny. Jesus. But honestly, without my bestie to kick it with at the end of the day, I've been bored as shit. Drinking alone is kind of losing its appeal.

“You didn't even tell me Dev was gonna be working here,” Tay accuses. “Or that he's living with you now? Had to hear that shit from Logan.”

“Like you didn't tell me you were moving out until the last minute?”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

Tay rears back like I punched him. “Wow. Okay, so it's like that, huh?”

“It's not—” I start, but I'm quickly cut off when someone calls for their check. The sound of soft laughter follows it, and we both look over to catch Devon grinning at Juanita. My grip tightens on a glass so fiercely that I'm surprised it doesn’t shatter.

Tearing my gaze away, I meet Taylor's instead.

“We're not done, shitass,” he hisses, pointing a finger at me. “Tonight, after work. We settle this in the parking lot like men.”

I snort despite myself and wave him away, deciding to focus on replacing a few kegs in the backroom instead. They're heavy fuckers, some of them weighing over sixty pounds. No sweat, obviously, since I'm used to throwing around a dirt bike, but moving them into place still gets me huffing and puffing.

And still, even over my heavy breathing, I hear Devon chuckling at Juanita's cackle. My back teeth grind together.

“Devon!” I finally bark, poking my head out of the kitchen door. “You gonna help me with this shit? It's heavy as fuck.”

He raises a brow, still smiling at my fucking boss, but steps into the backroom without fighting me. His grin drops the second the door shuts behind him. “You could’ve just asked.”

“I did. You didn’t hear me the first ten fucking times,” I lie, even though the truth is that I wanted him away from Juanita.

He follows me wordlessly, and together we heave the final keg into place. I show him how to hook up the tap lines after, my voice clipped and concise. Following my directions to the letter, Dev does what he's told, and I fucking hate how my gaze catches on the veins in his arms when they flex.

Kinda reminds me of how he looked pumping his dick before we both fucked Arya on his Ducati. Which is now gone. Along with Arya.

That thought has me releasing a sharp, angry breath.