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At the mention of Blaire, my body tenses. When I glance in the direction Conrad is now heading, my jaw drops. Unlike the rest of the waitresses working here who wear the tightest clothes that reveal the most cleavage, Blaire is in a loose-fitting pair of dark blue jeans with large holes in them and a green tank top that ends right where the top of her jeans starts. She has very little makeup on, but what she is wearing makes her eyes pop even from where I’m sitting. Her hair is hanging in loose curls down past her breasts and the top half is pulled back away from her face.
When she sees Conrad approach her, I can tell she tenses up just for a moment before becoming more relaxed. She gives him a small smile and after he says something to her, she points to the side of the bar. Over there, Emree is picking up an order of drinks I’m assuming is for the table she is waiting on.
Conrad heads in her direction, giving a wave to Blaire as he walks off. She smiles back and when she turns to walk away from him, her gaze meets mine and that smile grows even wider before she ducks her eye, hiding it from me. She grabs a few menus from the side of the bar and approaches us.
At our table, she hands out the menus she gathered. “Hey,” she says to me, “what are you all doing here?”
Leaning forward, I can’t help but smile at her. Now that she is closer, I can see the hint of red lip gloss on her lips and if that isn’t the sexiest thing a girl could wear, I don’t know what is. “The guys and I have a practice-free weekend, so we figured we’d come here for a few drinks. Plus, Conrad wouldn’t shut up about your roommate over there.” I point toward the two of them making out, the drinks on Emree’s tray forgotten.
Blaire looks over as Conrad pins Emree to the wall. “Oh no, she better not get caught. Garrett’s already in a bad mood after having to throw out a group of guys for groping her earlier.” Blaire sighs, shuddering at the end.
At the mention of someone groping Emree, my body goes ridged. “Are you shitting me?”
She flinches at the harsh tone of my voice.
I take a deep breath, not wanting to scare her. “I’m sorry, it’s just…do guys mess with you here?” I ask quietly. The thought of someone touching Blaire, especially without her consent, infuriates me.
She stares at me for a moment, her eyebrows drawn together. “Um, we sometimes get people who drink too much and are rowdy. Garrett is pretty good about keeping an eye out for groups that are heading in that direction. The guy who grabbed Emree’s butt tonight has been hitting on her for a while now and hasn’t taken no for an answer. Garrett banned him from the bar and threatened to call the police if he ever came back.”
I’m glad to hear Garrett takes the safety of his employees seriously. Some fucked-up shit happens to women on college campuses—hell, anywhere really. The school has put in a strict buddy system policy in place and campus security is more alert during nighttime classes and around the dorms.
Reaching forward, I rest my hand on Blaire’s hip. She stiffens but doesn’t pull away. “You feel safe working here, right? Nobody’s fucked with you?”
She glances down at my hand, and I tighten my grip. She bites her lower lip and looks back up at me. “Yeah,” she whispers, “I really don’t even get hit on. Pretty sure I dress like a prude compared to what the rest of the girls here wear.” She doesn’t say it in a slut-shaming way and laughs lightly as she says it.
This chick has no idea how unbelievably attractive she is. Maybe that is part of her charm. She doesn’t stick her chest out or flutter her eyes like some girls do. She’s just herself. “I quite like the prude look, if I do say so myself.” I wink and the lightest of pink creeps across her cheeks.
Blaire drops her head and takes a step out of my grasp. “Please don’t say stuff like that,” she says quietly. Her fingers are gripping the menus she hasn’t passed out to the table yet.
“Did I make you uncomfortable?”
She takes a deep breath. “No. Yes. I mean, I don’t know. I’m just…I’m not used to that kind of thing,” she says honestly.
“What kind of thing? Compliments?” I ask.
“No. Flirting.”
“Blaire, baby, you think I was flirting with you?” I tease her.
Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. “Wait, um, no. No, I didn’t think you were flirting. I—”
“Blaire, I’m messing with you,” I cut her off.
“Hey, babe, we ever going to get those menus and be able to order some drinks?” Maddox asks from the other end of the table. “You and my boy are cute and all cuddled up over there, but some of us aren’t getting any from you and need some booze and food before we hook up tonight.”
I groan. “Shut the fuck up, man, and watch what you say to her.”
Blaire scrambles to hand the menus out and grabs her notepad and pen to take our drink orders. Conrad reappears, his hair more disheveled than before.
“Blaire, you our lovely waitress for the night?” he asks before sliding onto a stool across from me.
She quickly scribbles down the bucket of Corona, a beer pretzel, and five tequila shots that Maddox orders. “Yeah. Sorry it isn’t Emree, but seeing how Garrett is probably lecturing her in the corner over there, I am going to assume it’s for the best. What can I get you?”
“How about whatever IPA you have on tap and an order of pork nachos.”
She writes down his order, as well as Levi’s Jack and Coke and Mateo’s Budweiser and chicken quesadilla.
She takes a deep breath and turns to me. “What can I get you, Camden?” Damn, my name on her lips sends a jolt to my dick.
