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She sniffles and nods. “Deal.” Then she looks up. Her eyes widen a notch, and I don’t even need to guess to know who’s approaching.
I turn my head slowly. Josh. He’s there. Simply standing there, watching us, no expression on his face.
“Got a sec?” He’s drilling me with that beautiful, black gaze of his.
I set my jaw and step away from my barstool.
He begins to lead the way, not even bothering to look back. Probably that sure that I’ll be following him.
A part of me wants to spin a 180 and turn away.
Will I?
Hell, no.
34
COASTERS AND CONFESSIONS
CASSIE
Moments later, I’m standing in that miserable excuse for an apartment of his. I make to shove my hands in my back pockets when I realize I’m holding the Trashed coaster still.
With all the things I want to talk to him about, all the things I want to ask him, I pretty much shock myself by saying, “What’s this about?” I flash him the coaster.
He glances at it, crosses his arms over his chest, and clears his throat.
“Another bar Isaiah and I plan to open.”
“Another?”
“Well, yeah. Seeing as how we own Wasted, we figured it was time to expand. Business is good. Seems college students love their alcohol. Love to spend their parents’ money on it.” His gaze fixes on me pointedly.
So he owns Wasted. Color me surprised, but something he said strikes a note with me. “I pay my own way. My parents don’t fund me. Or my alcohol.”
“Right,” he acknowledges, but I can’t decipher the tone behind the word.
I’m still absorbing thelittletidbit he just shared with me. “So, I guess I thought you were a bartender here.”
“I am.”
“I mean,justa bartender.”
He shrugs. “Gotta make a living somehow. Don’t plan to do it shrimping.”
Then, of course, my mouth gets ahead of my brain again. “You asked for my number, for what? I haven’t heard from you.”
“Yeah, sorry. Been underwater with the new bar. Then Billie had the baby. Had a lot to do. Covering for her. Covering for Isaiah.”
“Shouldn’t Isaiah be covering for you?”
He gives a doubletake, and then a dawning of understanding crosses his face. “Oh. That’s Isaiah’s baby. You thought—”
I’d love to play it off and say something like,Of course, I knew it was Isaiah’s baby all along,but I don’t. I’m not that good of a liar, and I know for a fact I can’t pull this one off. Shrugging is about the only thing I can do because I know there’s got to be a sheepish expression on my face.
“So, the baby’s a boy? Girl?”
“Boy. Named him Jericho.”
