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“Want something to drink?” Myles asks, nodding to the beers on tap.
My brows crease and I nod. “Can I have a Shirley Temple?”
“Whoa, might want to ease off the hard stuff,” she laughs, setting to work.
Feeling lighter, I watch her work and wonder about all of the years I’ve missed in London’s life.
What was it like after he moved?
Did he like his new school—his new neighbors?
Has he ever been in love?
I want to unravel it all.
As if reading my mind, Myles says, “You know, when Saint first started here, I didn’t know what to think of him. I mean, he’s this big guy with tattoos and a surly attitude. I figured he’d be a pain in my ass. If for no other reason than because I’m gay. Guys who look like him usually come with backward ideas. But he never did. He’s always been just …chill.” She pauses, laughing softly to herself as she hands me my drink. “Well, when he’s not giving me dick sticks, anyway.”
A slow grin creeps over my face and I lean in to take a quick sip. “That was pretty good.”
She shakes her head. “Asshole.”
“But a lovable asshole,” I counter.
“Oh, for sure. I mean, this one time—shit, it must have been one of his first weeks here—I was swamped with drink orders. I think it was a holiday weekend, too. My backup bartender had called in sick and the club was rammed. Total clusterfuck. Even though Saint typically stays in the office, or makes the rounds to keep an eye on the patrons, he saw I needed help,” she begins, shaking her head. “The guy’s not even a bartender, mind you—but he decided to help me mix drinks.”
“Jesus, not this story,” London groans as he steps up beside me.
I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of his voice. I hadn’t even heard him approach, I was so enraptured, trying to find another piece to the London puzzle.
“Well, now Ihaveto hear it,” I say, bumping London with my shoulder.
He sighs heavily but there’s a glint of humor in his eyes.
Myles laughs and sets the glass in her hand down. “Well, at first, I was just appreciative that I wasn’t slinging drinks alone. He was able to keep up with the beers and I did the mixed drinks and whatnot.”
“That’s putting it nicely. She basically ordered me to only touch the bottles with tops still on them and pour on-tap beer,” he huffs.
“Hey, I let you pour wine, too,” she says, rolling her eyes and sticking out her tongue. When she turns to me, she continues, “Turns out that was wise.”
I lean forward, planting my clasped hands under my chin. “Go on.”
London pinches the bridge of his nose. “Christ, I should never have left you alone with Myles.”
“Too late now,” she retorts, shooting him a big grin. “So, when things seemed to be dying down a bit, Saint here was incredibly sweet by offering to cover me so I could take a fifteen-minute break. It had beensix hoursof nonstop pouring drinks and I desperately needed to pee.”
“None of us needed to know that,” London cuts in.
“Uh-oh, I think I see where this is going,” I say, shooting a sideways glance toward London. He rakes his hand over his face in response.
“Well, wouldn’t you know it, a rowdy group from a bachelorette party came in shortly after I left. I think they planned it, but I can’t be sure. Of course, they were flirting all overMr. Hot Tattooshere, asking him to make all sorts of sexual drinks.” She locks eyes with London and smirks. “Granted, he didn’t know how the hell to make aSlippery NippleorSex On My Face. Shit, I don’t even think he knew they were drinks until that day. Did you, Saint?”
“Wish I coulda kept it that way,” he mutters, shaking his head and staring at the bar in front of him. “Coulda gone my whole life without knowing most of those existed.”
“Oh, no,” I say, hiding my giggles behind my hand.
“Oh, that’s not the worst of it,” Myles continues with a head shake.
London raises his eyes to the ceiling but doesn’t say anything.
