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“Now that I know your name, Champ, don’t you think it’s time you know mine?”
“I know your name,” I snap back. “It’s Saint, right?”
He lets out a throaty laugh that sends goose bumps trailing up my arms.
Why is his laugh so sexy?
“My asshole brother is the only person who still calls me that.” He rubs his beard-covered jaw. “It’s a nickname from when I was a kid.”
“You must have been a lot different when you were a kid, Saint. I can think of at least a dozen nicknames that suit you better.”
His gaze passes over me from head to toe. “Like what?”
“You don’t want to know.”
His left eyebrow perks. “I sure as hell do, Champ.”
Seriously? Are we having this discussion right now?
“For starters, I’d call you a horrible neighbor,” I say with exasperation edging my tone.
A smirk slides over his lips. “How am I a horrible neighbor?”
“I don’t have time for this.” I glance at my watch. “I need to get back to work.”
“Fine.” He tilts his head to the side. “Get me another drink.”
“Another one?” I ask before I realize the question has left my lips.
I don’t need him to hang out here any longer. I want him out of this bar now.
“Is that a problem?” he questions.
“Don’t you have a job to get back to?” I paste on a sugary sweet smile. “I wouldn’t want your boss getting pissed at you for taking too long of a lunch break.”
“That’s not going to happen,” he says. “You’re not denying me another beverage, are you?”
I am, and it’s not because he’s intoxicated. It’s because he’s annoying the hell out of me.
I point at his empty glass. “You downed two drinks pretty fast today. I know how much you like scotch, but maybe save the next one for when you’re at home tonight. You indulge a lot during the evenings and weekends. I’ve seen that for myself.”
“You what?” He takes a half step closer to me. “When did you see that? Have you been spying on me?”
Yes, but I’ll never admit it.
“I’ve seen it two times.” I dart two fingers in the air. “Twice, you’ve knocked on my door when you’ve had a drink in your hand.”
A smile slides over his lips. “Right.”
He doesn’t add anything else even though both times that happened, I asked what he wanted, and he said he needed to borrow a cup of sugar.
I told him to get lost. He did after he smirked and winked at me.
I look at my watch again. “I need to get back to my other customers. Have a nice day.”
“Have a nice day?” His arms cross his chest. “Telling your customers to stop drinking is not the way to hold onto this job, Champ. Ever heard of upselling?”
There’s no way in hell he thinks that Champ is my actual name, but I won’t correct him.
