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Age Twenty-Two
I strideinto Down Home Pub, and per usual, I head straight to Maliki. It’s early evening, and the night crowd hasn’t hit the place yet. That gives me plenty of time to annoy him before customers arrive with drink demands.
I drop onto a stool and watch him pour a beer for a brooding customer. He nods when the man pays him, and then his eyes meet mine. We share a smile—mine no doubt loaded with goofiness. He snags a cleaning towel, takes the few steps separating us, and stops in front of me. He leans back on his heels and waits for me to speak.
I shift my weight in the stool. “Guess what.”
He dries his hands on the towel. “Who knows with you, Jailbait?”
“I moved home!”
He chuckles. “Oh boy, that’s fucking trouble. We should alert the authorities.”
“Don’t act like you’re not secretly thrilled I’ll be able to annoy you more,” I say with more dignity than someone borderline stalking him should.
I snatch a peanut from the chrome bucket on the bar, crack open the shell, and pop the nut into my mouth.
When I came home on breaks, I always headed straight to the pub to see him. I ordered all my drinks from him, ditched my friends to hang out at the bar with him, and spent more time here than at home.
Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean we’ve shared in-depth discussions. The bar stays busy, and most locals order from him rather than the other bartenders. We make small conversation until he’s called away again.
“Oh, princess, I can’t wait.” He inches closer, provoking my breathing to hitch, and softens his tone. “What made you come home?” His smile widens. “You want to see me every day, don’t you? I love that you find me irresistible.”
Thank God the bar hides the view of me clenching my thighs underneath my maxi dress. This is Maliki’s game. He loves fucking with my head. He’ll get closer, whisper in my ear, and then back away to serve a customer, a shit-eating grin on his face. The ass knows I’m attracted to him.
I roll my eyes and toss a shell at him. “You’re so arrogant. Gee, I don’t know, maybe I moved home because”—I hold a finger to the corner of my lips—“my family lives here. That’s a mighty ego you wield there, bartender. You should drink some of it off.”
“Your familyand me,” he corrects with a smirk.
Am I that transparent?
For as long as I can remember, I swore I’d never live in Blue Beech as an adult. My hometown was too small, too stuffy, but that plan changed a month ago. I graduated from college a semester early, and instead of apartment-searching in the city, I packed my stuff and came home. After being gone for four years, a girl needed some familiarity.
I straighten my back and clear my throat. “I’ve experienced the party life, and now, I’m ready to get a job and act like an actual adult.”
He chuckles. “It’s weird, seeing you mature, Jailbait. It seems like only yesterday you were in here, all doe-eyed and innocent with your strawberry daiquiri.”
“Hey, I’m very mature, thank you very much. Just yesterday, I scheduled my own dentist appointment.”
“Oh shit, look at you, all grown-up and changing the world by assuring you’re cavity-free. Maybe next week, you’ll advance to grocery shopping.” He pauses, holds up a finger, and winks. “Hold up. I bet you’re back for my drinks. They don’t make them like me in the city, do they? I’ve ruined you for all other bartenders.”
“I hate to pop your drink-making ego, but the booze selection in the city ismuch larger.” I smirk. “I’ll give you some pointers.”
Down Home Pub doesn’t boast an expansive drink list—beer by the bottle and draft, mixed drinks, shots, and a few select wines. Nothing too fancy. There aren’t any special house cocktails, but there’s also no demand for it.
He shakes his head. “Eh, not interested. You can keep testing what I give you though.”
Sometimes, Maliki gives me drinks to taste-test. I’ve never had one I didn’t like.
I roll my eyes. “God, you’re boring.”
“For someone who claims I’m boring, you sure seem to enjoy yourself around me.”
“I love drinking yourboringdrinks.” I shrug. “’Tis all.”
“You love my company, babe,” he talks while starting a drink. “There are two sides of the bar. Mikey is free, and I guarantee he won’t have a problem serving you. He’s more your age and always up for a good time. Hell, he’s probably more entertaining than I am. Why don’t you go bug him?”
I scrunch up my nose. “Ew.Mikey sleeps with any woman who can count to ten.”
