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I can feel my cheeks heat, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
“The viewisn’t interested,” I shoot back, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Good. I couldn’t ever get involved with someone who works for me, anyway.” Andreas leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “But you’re so entertaining when you’re pissed off…”
My breath catches in my throat as I struggle to maintain my composure. “Well, you pissing me off isn’t any fun. Now finish your beer and leave, please. I’m trying to work.”
My thoughts race as I mix drinks and serve customers, my mind unwillingly drifting back to Andreas. Why does he have such a hold on me? And why, despite everything, do I want to give in?
When I glance back to where he was sitting, he’s gone, an empty beer glass the only evidence he was ever there. A strange mix of relief and disappointment washes over me. What the hell was that all about?
“Alana!” Holly calls from the other side of the bar. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I lie, forcing myself to return to the present. “But that prick Andreas left without paying for his beer or tipping.”
The night continues, but the memory of Andreas’ words hangs heavy in the air, a tantalizing secret that refuses to be forgotten. We finally get busy, and as soon as I go to pour a house beer, the keg blows. Of course. I step into the bar cooler, my breath fogging up in the cold air as I search for a fresh keg. I reach for the handle of the keg, steeling myself to lug it out, when I hear the door close behind me.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” I hiss and walk toward him to confront him for stiffing his bill and not tipping. Our faces are inches away, and if I took a deep breath, my breasts would graze against him.
“This is my restaurant,” he challenges, his blue eyes piercing into mine like ice.
My stomach clenches, and a shiver runs down my spine despite my anger. Why does he have this effect on me? I shove him away with all of my strength, my cheeks burning hot even in the cool room.
“You’re such an asshole. And you didn’t pay for your beer, by the way.”
He grabs my hand before I can pull away, yanking me back against him. The cold metal of the keg at my back contrasts with the heat of his chest pressed against mine.
“What do I owe you?” he asks. While he waits for my response, he runs his nose along my cheek to my neck. Both of his hands go to the wall behind us, and he creates a cage around me with his arms.
“Let go of me,” I demand, even though my body aches for his touch. I need to keep control, to stay focused on my job, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult with him so close.
“Fine,” he says, releasing me abruptly. I stumble away from him, my legs shaky. “But remember, Alana, this isn’t over.”
His hand envelopes mine, and I feel the familiar crunch of a crisp bill in my hand. I glare at him as I replace the keg and exit the cooler, my breath catching in my throat as the door shuts behind me. Once I know he’s gone, I look down to see a hundred-dollar bill when I open my fist.
I guess he’s not the kind of asshole who doesn’t tip his servers, so that’s good to know, I think as I walk back out behind the rail. The noise of the bar washes over me, but it does little to drown out the memory of Andreas’ words and the undeniable pull between us.
This is going to be a long night.
“Alana, are you okay?” Holly’s concerned voice cuts through my thoughts as she approaches me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Fine,” I force out, pasting on a fake smile. “Just a little cold from the cooler.”
I don’t want to share what just happened with anyone, least of all my friends. It feels too raw, too intimate.
“Alright,” she says hesitantly, her eyes scanning the room. “Well, looks like Andreas left. Good riddance, right?”
“Right,” I agree, trying to sound convincing. I focus on the mundane tasks of my job, pouring drinks and chatting with customers, but the memory of Andreas’ touch lingers, making me shiver despite the warmth of the bar.
Hours tick by, each one an eternity as I try to make sense of my conflicting emotions. Finally, my shift ends; I bid goodnight to Holly and Trent, who still seem oblivious to my inner turmoil.
Thank God tomorrow is my day off.
8
Chapter Eight
Alana
