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Stopping, I look at him to see if he’s teasing me in some way. Only he’s not.
“The jury is still out on that. It’s all so new. And I havea lotto learn.”
“Well, you seem good at anything you do. Bartending. Photography. And…you know, the modeling gig.” He clears his throat. “You’re, well, yeah…you’re really good at that too.” The smallest laugh bubbles from him. “Better than O’Brien—that’s for sure.”
Finally looking in the direction of where I know Brody is, I exhale. “I don’t know about that. After all, I don’t getthatsort of attention.”
I nod toward the corner booth, and Watson turns to look.
As he sees three women thrusting their pictures of Brody in his Rugged & Co. underwear campaign ads toward him to sign, Watson laughs. “Well, that’s only because if one of us dudes came up to you with a picture of you in your bra and panties, waving it around, pretty sure you’d get major creeper vibes and likely call the cops.”
“This is true,” I mutter, pulling my eyes away from Brody. “Well, I’d better get back to cleaning. There’s an overload of garbage that needs to be taken out tonight, and lucky for me, it’s my turn. Nice talking to you.”
“You too,” he says, standing before he runs his hand down the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t, uh, happen to need any help, would you?”
“With garbage?” I frown. “Nah, that’s okay.”
He relaxes a little, and the corners of his lips turn up. “My mama taught me better than that. Let me take the garbage out tonight. It’s our fault—the hockey team’s—that you’re here this late anyway.”
“Cocky, huh?” I tease. “I heard the chess team also played tonight. Maybe these folks are partying for them.”
“This is true.” He chuckles. “But how about you let me help you anyway?”
Narrowing my eyes, I lean against the counter. “Tell you what. I’ll let youhelpme. Meaning I do half and you do half. Deal?”
Grinning, he nods. “Deal.”
Brody
The anger searing my veins right now is almost unbearable. Watching Bria lean against the counter, smiling at Gentry the way she used to smile at me. Fucking Watson. It’s enough to make me want to smash the brand-new phone in my pocket. But that would be stupid. Just like it was dumb to break the last one when Bria and I had our fight.
I guess it isn’t his fault. Aside from thinking Bria and I are friends who also model together, not many of my teammates know the truth about us.
The fact that I’m fucking obsessed with the girl.
The chick next to me keeps trying to talk, but I haven’t said a word back. Another night of getting completely fucked up has my head spinning. And even though I know the ache of missing Bria is there, it’s a little more tolerable right now.
“Did you see the blonde in the other pictures?” one of the girls says to her friend in a degrading tone. “What a slut. And she’s not even that pretty.”
“Yeah, and look at her, working at the bar, probably screwing every dude who sits in her section.” The other howls. “It’s so pathetic.”
“Look, she’s even on Watson,” one of them says. “Someone should warn that poor guy. She looks like she has STDS. Probably crabs. And not the kind you eat at Joe’s.”
“Ladies, do you haveanyidea how fucking dumb you sound?” I glare at them before snatching the photo of myself from one of their hands. “You wanted me to sign this? And you,” I say, pointing to the redhead, “offered to blow me in the restroom. A restroom that probably has crabs on the toilet seat. Ones thatone thousand percentcame from your vag. And you want to call Bria a whore?” I stand, shaking my head. “Unreal, really. The only chicks who have STDs in here are you. Fuck, you’ve probably got so many crabs that they’ve created a fucking civilization between your legs. Gross.”
As I step away from them, I almost forget Watson is hitting on my girl. My person. My fucking property even though she isn’t. But when I hear her laugh, I’m quickly reminded that he’s over there with her. Still, I know I need to respect her boundaries and leave her alone. Be the bigger person or some shit. But when I see him walk behind the bar, lifting up some garbage before he follows her out the back door…being the better man goes out the window. And before I know it, I’m stalking toward the same exit, ready to fucking kill him if his hands are on her body.
I hear them laughing, followed by the commotion of a crashing sound and then Watson’s voice.
“What the fuck is going on here?” I growl when I finally reach them.
Bria is on her knees, directly in front of him.
“Christ, O’Brien. Why are you out here?” Watson frowns before looking back at her. “Shit, Bria, are you all right? That was a hard fall.”
Pushing onto her feet, she brushes herself off. “I’m fine. My foot got caught up on something.”
Taking the garbage bag from her hand, Watson throws them in the dumpster. “You sure you’re all right?”
