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“Got it,” I nodded dutifully, stacking my tray with the beers before grabbing Mr. Ass’s check and narrowing playful eyes at Mia. “Is he really that hot?”
“Girl.” She shot me a very serious look. “My thong melted off my ass the first time I looked at him, but if you don’t believe me, you’re about to see for yourself,” she said, making me snort as she reached over service bar to fluff my hair and yank my neckline down a couple inches. “Just try not to have heat stroke and die, okay? ‘Cause I can’t afford to pay rent on my own.”
“Oh, thanks, but I think I’ll survive,” I laughed as I made my way to Lana’s section, a smirk already curling on my lips.
I had trouble believing anyone was as hot as Mia described Mr. Ass, but considering how much drama and fighting I’d witnessed among the staff in just my first few weeks here, I was excited to see the one thing in the world they could all agree on—this alleged panty-scorcher of a mystery babe.
It was probably about time, anyway, that I start letting myself look at men again. I didn’t ever during college because it was just a bunch of pointless torture. I’d had some cute guys hit on me before, but there was no sense in talking for long because once it came to being officially asked for my number, I had to explain that I didn’t actually have time to meet, because not only did I still live at home with my parents, I had a bus to catch and a very early curfew to make.
Pretty much all it took was one crush-worthy guy laughing in my face and saying “yikes” for me to just shut up about my curfew and stop talking to boys altogether.
Besides, I had my fellow freakshow in Brendan.
He was a sweet, soft-spoken family friend whose mom was best friends with mine. Since he grew up similarly smothered, he commuted home with me every day after his classes at NYU, and we wound up dating junior and senior year because, well, we were each other’s only options.
We fumbled through our first kisses together, clumsily lost our virginities to one another, and while I held onto hope that it would start to feel good at some point—like that hot, breathless, passionate sex I saw in movies—we never came anywhere close to finding our rhythm. Partly because doing it in his classmate’s dorm room during the twenty-minute window that we could afford to meet up wasn’t the most romantic thing in the world.
But mostly because he never lasted more than two minutes.
And I’d never been genuinely attracted to him in the first place, so I tried to break it off senior year, but then he cried very loudly on the bus and reminded me that this would upset our moms, which he was absolutely right about, so I stayed with him till exactly five weeks ago—when I pulled off the The Great Escape.
And now you’re free, I exhaled with a minty fresh wave of gratitude as my heeled feet weaved through the candlelit tables in Lana’s section. Free to talk to all the boys you want, go on all the dates you want… free to have all the real, non-dorm-room sex you want with hot guys like Mr. Ass.
I smirked to myself.
Assuming he’s really that hot.
I had to suppress my amusement as I closed in on his booth, because our resident flirt, Lana, was being even sultrier than usual while standing in front of the table—one hand holding her tray up high and the other placed on her very dramatically cocked hip.
Come on, lady, way to block my whole view, I snorted inwardly as I came up behind her, though just as the thought crossed my mind she lowered her tray.
And bam.
The world’s greenest eyes locked on mine, and I nearly dropped all my beer because holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
3
HOLLAND
My heart slammed so hard in my chest that I swore my whole body careened forward. In my mind, I’d just gasped so hard I lost my footing, dropped my tray and toppled beer-soaked onto the table.
But in reality, I was frozen.
Completely still and barely breathing because sitting before me in that booth was a sex god in a suit—an absurdly expensive-looking, dark grey suit wrapped around that long, muscled, achingly perfect body I’d once memorized by heart, because I wasn’t staring at just some hot regular my coworkers were obsessed with.
I was staring at Iain.
As in Iain Thorn.
As in my brother’s best friend, my childhood crush and the devastatingly beautiful man I’d loved since the day I laid eyes on him. Who used to help me with my homework. Who took me to my first baseball game, and picked me up from my first sleepover because I couldn't make it through the night.
He wasn’t just the sexy, bad boy object of my every teenage fantasy, he was the sole bright spot of my lonely adolescence. The warm, protective big brother I never had in Adam.
But right now he was staring at me with his green eyes steely. Hard on me.
