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Nico drapes himself against the back of the stool. “Jealous?”
“Impressed.”
“Well, good thing I showed up.” He peers around the bar and returns the doe-eyed gaze to me. “Why’s it dead in here?”
“It’s been like this all year, which is probably why I just got fired.”
Nico laughs for a moment. The concern in his eyes appears when he pieces together the frown on my face isn’t painted on for exaggeration. “What?”
“The owner is shutting down the bar to go on adventures around the world.”
“Kinda cool.”
“Of course you’re impressed.” I hike up an eyebrow. “But I’m going to need to find a new job. Life isn’t all fun and games, y’know?”
“And why not?” Nico lifts from his seat, walking around the mahogany bar to join me near the sink. “Look, if the bar’s closing, all this alcohol isn’t going to drink itself.”
“Wait, no, you can’t—”
“What’s the worst that could happen, Lily? You’re gonna get fired?” His voice is a weighted challenge. “Let’s do some shots.”
Practically Nico’s catchphrase.
In some alternate universe, I’m certain he moonlights as a sexy superhero who appears with a bottle of booze to save the day.
“Famous last words.”
“Live a little.” He regards the wall of alcohol and grabs two clean shot glasses off the counter, setting them beside me. “C’mon, don’t spin the gears in that pretty head of yours too hard.”
I shouldn’t entertain this. At all. “I thought you had a date.”
“Yeah, I’m sure she won’t mind waiting while I help a friend.”
Hmm. After having a guy faint inside of me, failing one of my classes, and getting fired, maybe I could use a little something to take the edge off.
It’s what friends are for, right?
My hesitation beats away in a breath.
“Don’t use that one.” I bend toward the fridge beneath the counter to fetch one of the perfectly chilled top-shelf vodkas.
When I hand the bottle over to Nico, my gaze snags on his deep-brown eyes trailing over my body with the speed of honey gliding down a liquor bottle. His attention finally settles on my face, and I swallow hard.
“I knew you were hiding the good stuff.” He grabs the bottle out of my hand, the lingering stare snuffed out of his eyes as if it were never there. “Now, how long have you worked here?”
“Three years.”
“One for each year then.” Nico pours the first round.
“To unemployment,” I say.
We clink our glasses and knock them back quickly. The vodka shoots down my throat with a burn. I grimace, plant my palms on the bar, and hike myself up to sit on the wood.
“Are you actually sad about not working here anymore?” Nico leans beside my dangling legs.
“I guess. I got to work nights and have classes during the day. I’m not exactly a fan of my routine getting a shake-up.”
He pours us another round. “That’s neither a yes nor a no.”
