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He frowned even harder. But a split second later, a new grin broke across his face. Nudging my arm, he coaxed, “You think I’m hotter than Hart, don’t you? Come on, you can admit it.”
“Ehh...” Not that I wanted Asher to know just how attracted to him I was, but I kind of gave myself away with the incredulous look I sent Ten. So, since I’d already screwed myself, I just went with it and mildly answered, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
It wasn’t my intention to make Asher uncomfortable, but I just couldn’t lie about this. Too afraid to glance his way and check his expression, I focused my scowl on Ten for putting me in this position.
“Oh, whatever. I have a way better ass than he does.” He turned to let me see his backside.
I looked. I mean, how could I not? A hot guy was purposely showing me his tush bundled up in a pair of jeans, and yeah, he definitely had it going on back there. But even with the nice curvature Ten provided, there was just something about Asher’s cute, tight little buns of steel, framed within his narrow hips, that appealed to me more.
So I said, “No. You really don’t.”
Ten scowled. “Oh, whatever. You suck.”
Next to me, Asher roared with laughter. It was one of those open-bodied laughs where a guy had to tip his head back to let all the sound out. Beyond relieved that he wasn’t bothered by the things I’d just said about him, I grinned his way.
He smiled back and tapped me on the arm. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the guys. Don’t worry, they aren’t quite so...Ten.”
“Which means they’re lame,” Ten called as he hopped back behind the bar and turned to a customer waiting for service.
Asher and I weaved our way to the other end of the bar where a group of couples were gathered, Caroline—who I hated a lot less now that I knew she wasn’t Asher’s girlfriend—included.
“Guys.” He waved his hand, gaining the attention of about half a dozen people. “This is Sticks, the new drummer. I thought I’d introduce all new band members to you from now on, in case he turned out to be related to anyone.”
I glanced at him for that odd comment, but it made the others laugh.
And the finger-pointing began. “That’s Mason and Reese. Mason also works here, but it’s his night off. Same thing with Knox right there. And that lovely thing at his side is Felicity, who is a waitress here. Caroline, you’ve already met. We’re missing three more of the ladies, Eva, Zoey, and Aspen, because they opted to stay home with kiddos this evening. But I think Pick is around somewhere...”
He glanced toward the opening of the back hall before a voice spoke from our left, saying, “Right here.”
Asher and I both whirled that way, and I found a hot man smiling at me with a pierced lip and eyebrow ring.
“Sticks, this is Pick, my...” Asher fumbled a second and grabbed at a piece of his hair as if suddenly uncomfortable. But then he finished, “The, uh, the owner of Forbidden.”
A brief flash of disappointment flickered across Pick’s face before he forced his smile to return.
I held my hand out to him, saying, “Nice to meet you. Awesome place you’ve got here.”
I’m not sure why I shook with him and none of the others, maybe because he was Asher’s boss, maybe because he seemed to give me more attention than the others had, or something in the way Asher reacted to him, but it felt as if he needed more...I don’t know, notice? Respect?
Something stiff and uncomfortable emanated from Asher as Pick thanked me and told me I’d done well on stage. Then Asher was tapping on my arm to pull my attention from his boss. “And this guy is Noel. The other bartender working over there is Quinn, who you sort of met earlier.”
Torn from Pick, I nodded at Noel, who nodded right back. Quinn was at the very other end of the bar in front of a blender making what looked like, oh God...a piña colada. I would die for one of those right about now. Then Quinn went and put a little umbrella in it, along with a pineapple wedge and cherry, and I nearly whimpered.
Piña coladas were my vice.
I was about to go all Jimmy Buffett and start singing about making love at midnight and getting caught in the rain, when Asher told Noel, “Hey, man. Get me an Angry Orchard, will you?” And I suddenly remembered, crap, if I was going to drink anything, it couldn’t be a girly mixed drink like piña coladas.
Could it?
No, probably not.
“We’re out,” Noel called back as he filled a pitcher with Miller Lite at the tap.
Asher scowled. “Are we really out, or are you just messing with me?”
“There’s none behind the counter. If you want to go back to the stockroom and see if you can dig up a fresh case of warm ones, be my guest.”
“Sure, I can do that.” Asher turned his gaze my way. “Hey, Remy. You want one?”
