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"Blaire," I state with a smile. She grins at me, probably happy that I remembered her name. "I thought you were a hostess?" I ask, leaning forward on the bar.

A mischievous look spreads across her beautiful face and she leans her elbows on the bar, completely ignoring the other patrons who are trying to order drinks. "I do hostess. I also bartend, and sometimes when I need extra money, I let Levi put me in one of those things." She nods her head in the direction of the hanging cages, but I don't have to follow her gaze—I already know what she's talking about. "In fact, I’ll bet there are a lot of things that you don't kn—"

"I said, excuse me!" Blaire's eyes harden and she turns her gaze to Avery. Her brows furrow slightly, a look of confusion flashing across her face at the sight of the woman sitting next to me. Avery blatantly rests her hand on my forearm, giving it a light squeeze as she looks at me adoringly, attempting to flutter her eyelashes.

It takes everything I have not to bust up laughing at the look on her face, but I manage to succeed.

What the hell is she doing?

Blaire's eyes follow Avery's hand, and then they bounce from me to Avery a couple of times before she blinks. She nods her head once, looking like she understands something...I'm just not sure what.

"What can I get you, Mr. Grawe?" Yup, I've still got it. I smile smugly to myself, completely oblivious to whatever the hell just happened. Blaire remembered my name. And I'm not going to lie, the fact that she called me Mr. Grawe instead of Tyson was rea

lly fucking hot. Only now, Blaire's eyes aren't soft like they were before. They're not hard either; it's more a look of...indifference?

Avery slides her free hand along my back and wraps her arm around my waist, her other hand still resting on my arm. I stare at her in amusement as she pins Blaire with a hard look and answers before I have a chance.

"Sweetie," she says, dragging her eyes back to me. "Do you want another beer?" I can't help the laugh that slips from my mouth as I nod my head in agreement.

Blaire turns around without a second glance, grabs us each another beer, and then slides them across the bar. As soon as Blaire turns to the line of customers waiting to order their drinks, Avery removes her arm from around my waist and leans back in her chair with an arrogant look on her face.

"What the hell was that?" I laugh, taking a swig of my beer.

She cocks her head to the side, winks, and tips her beer in my direction. "You're welcome."

"For what?"

She looks confused. What the hell is she confused about? "For what?" she asks, sitting forward in her chair. "For saving your ass!"

"Okay. I'm totally lost." Setting my beer on the bar, I face Avery, my arms crossed in front of me. Her eyes wander from my face, across my chest, and down to where the fabric is stretched tight around my arms, and I can't help but smile. Women."Either the first bartender spiked your beer with something, or you've just totally gone insane." Her eyes snap to mine and she has the nerve to look at me like I'm the one that's crazy. "Okay, let me spell this out for you." She crosses her legs and sets her beer on the bar. Turning toward me, she raises her hands as she starts to tick off what I did wrong. "All I've heard you talk about for the past week is Harley—Harley this and Harley that—and then you're telling me that she tried to kiss you but you didn't let her...which I still think was a huge mistake on your part. Anyway," she waves her hands in the air as though she got off track, "so now you come here and start flirting with the first hot little number you see. I'm not going to lie, Ty, I'm really disappointed. I expected more out of you."

Okay, now I'm mad. "First of all...I know Blaire. We met last time I was here. Second, it's none of your damn business who I flirt with, and it certainly isn't your place to step in and pretend that we’re 'together' so that she would stop flirting."

"You're right," she snaps. "It's not my place, but I probably just saved your ass from fucking that," she points to the end of the bar, "up."

I turn around to see what she's pointing at and my eyes instantly find Harley, who is looking straight at me. I can't help but smile at the sight of her—that's just how she makes me feel—and goddamn it's good to see her beautiful face. Wait...she’s not smiling back, and are those—

"Wait! Where are you going?" Avery asks, grabbing my arm when I start to walk away.

I look down at her hand on my arm and then back at her. No one is going to keep me from going to Harley. "That's Harley, and she looks like she's about to cry so if you'll please let go of my arm..." I'm trying to keep my cool with Avery, but I'm still sort of confused about everything that just happened and now she's trying to stop me from—

"Because of you!" Her voice and eyes harden, but she lets go of my arm. "She's probably crying because of you." She rolls her eyes and takes a drink of her beer. "Good God, men are stupid," she mumbles around the bottle.

"Me? How in the hell did I make her cry? I didn't even know she was here until you pointed her out. Wait a minute, how did you know that was Harley?" I ask. "You told me you guys have never met."

"We haven't. But I recognize her from the hospital. She was sitting there watching us, and then when you started flirting with Blaire, her eyes got really sad. I just put two and two together. Plus, I'm a woman...I know these things."

She was...she saw...I whip back around, intent on finding Harley, but she isn't there. My eyes scan the room, but there are too many people.

"I wasn't flirting with Blaire. I was just being nice and—" Avery cocks her eyebrow, giving me a classic you're-full-of-shit look. "What? I wasn't flirting. She might've been, but I wasn't," I defend, poking myself in the chest.

Avery nods in understanding. "You're right, but a couple more seconds and you would have. And…" She drags the word out, preventing me from butting in. "Harley doesn't know that! All Harley knows is that last night she tried to kiss you and you rejected—"

"I didn't reject her!"

"Yes, you did," she says, matter-of-fact. "She tried to kiss you, you rejected her, and now she finds you here at the bar, which is totally my fault," she mumbles the last part absently before continuing. "She was probably excited to see you until she saw Blaire practically shoving her very large, very fake rack in your face."

Fuck. I screwed up—again. I've got to find her.

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