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Chapter 1
Logan
“You said you want a what?” There was no way I’d heard this broad correctly.
She flipped her obviously box-dyed black hair over her shoulder as if it’d make her louder. “I said I want a French 75.” She punctuated her sentence by rubbing her lips together and pulling them apart with a sharp pop.
I lifted my brow when she swayed, wrapping her manicured nails around the edge of the counter to maintain her balance. If she was anything like her friends, her heels would be sitting on the table within minutes and she’d be barefoot on the dirty dance floor.
When I slid the glass across the counter towards her, she eagerly grabbed for it and took a long sip. “Oh, this is perfect. The best French 75 I’ve ever had. Thanks, sweetheart.” Before she walked away, she winked and stuffed a couple ones in the tip jar.
“How’d you know what that was?” Auston had watched the entire thing from his spot by the register, and judging by the crooked, amused look on his face, he was entertained by the drunk girl’s request.
My best friend crossed his arms, revealing the intricate tattoos that went up to the ones on his neck. Without the red hair and hazel eyes, he would have looked more intimidating, but there was something about the combination that was still deceptively dangerous. Really, the guy was a teddy bear that found himself hilarious.
“I made her a half-strength gin and tonic and threw a lime in it.” I shrugged. She clearly didn’t have any idea what she was drinking, and she was so drunk that I couldn’t bring myself to give her something very strong. Did she even know what she had ordered?
Auston laughed and shook his head, walking out from behind the bar to collect glasses. As he did, another group of girls approached the counter. “Tequila and soda with lime, please,” one said, leaning on the bar to draw attention to the way her dress barely contained her cleavage.
“You got it.” I gave her the smile that would often get me an invite to a woman’s bedroom.
She giggled with her friends while I poured tequila over ice and topped it with a squirt of soda, adding the requested lime. I casually sat the glasses in front of the girls with a smirk, flexing when I rested my forearms against the bar. They watched the muscles in my arm move, and when one bit her lip, I winked.
“Excuse me, man.” Male customers. Always the ultimate cock block.
The girl handed the drinks to her friends, running her tongue along her lip and walking away as I turned my attention. “What can I get you, my dude?”
With no surprise, the guy ordered a light beer in a bottle. I popped the top and handed it to him, scanning the crowd he disappeared into. People swayed to music playing too loudly out of our crackling speakers, and groups of people yelling to be heard hovered around tables. It was a normal Saturday night at Pour Decisions.
“Logan, my friend.” Every regular considered the bartender on duty to be their friend, but even as I rolled my eyes, I busied myself pouring the man a beer and a shot of whiskey. Always both, at the same time.
I handed him his shot and put the beer on the counter. “How’s it going, Rudy? You’re here later than usual tonight.”
“Couldn’t get away from the missus.” Rudy chuckled like he was thinking of an inside joke only he knew. “You know how it goes.”
“I’m not married, Rudy.”
He knew that. I told him every time he mentioned how miserable he was, and with the way he talked about his wife, I wasn’t sure I wanted one. I was plenty happy with the girls that clung on and then disappeared after a couple of weeks. I liked the quick dopamine hits.
Rudy mumbled something about counting my blessings, followed by a muffled laugh. “Let me go ahead and get another one of those, huh? It’s been a long day.”
“Hey, asshole. Are you going to stop talking so I can get a drink or what?” Rudy and I both turned to face the drunk early-twenties man.
I had seen him standing there, wearing a button-down pinstriped shirt. He had the sleeves rolled up, and he flexed when he ran his hand through his greasy hair. The guy leaned against the counter like he had been waiting awhile, but he’d only just walked up.
Raising a brow, I cocked my head and took a deep breath. “You can wait. I’m helping someone, and these ladies over here are before you.” I pointed to a group of girls that had just stepped up to the counter, giggling about what kind of shot they’d take to end the night.
“Hell no, man. I was here before these hoes.”
“In my bar, it’s ladies first. Have a seat.” I ignored his grumbling and finished getting Rudy his second round and entering it into the computer before turning and joining the girls across the bar.
Behind me, I could see the man clenching his fist, clearly debating if he wanted the drink badly enough to sit there and wait. Judging by the way he didn’t make any attempt to move, he did.
“Ladies, you look stunning this evening,” I told them. I took my time, leaning against the bar and winking.
They all giggled, brushing their hair over their shoulders. Their makeup was slightly smudged, but a little compliment went a long way. “Thank you, handsome.” She was drunk enough that she stumbled over her tongue.
I ignored the strain of curses on my left from the bar. “You’re fucking kidding, right?”
