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I laugh as if it’s all a big joke. “Silly Beck. My tips are going to be so much better without it.” That rage I felt earlier is now a wild animal, made vicious by the smell of blood.
Overconfident Guy buys another round of shots, then slides one back to me. “That one’s yours.”
I slide it back to him.
“Drink up, Katie,” he says, pushing it my way once more.
Ugh. You’ve got to love a stranger who decides to give you a nickname.
I grin, slow and seductive. “You need to get a girl drunk first?”
He leans forward, both forearms on the counter, and I notice Beck has approached us though he’s got no reason to be at my end of the bar. “Are you saying Idon’tneed to get you drunk?” he asks.
I bite my lip as I start to turn away. “I’m saying I don’t need to be drunk to do the things I want to do.”
He rises, leaning closer, nearly knocking over a beer bottle as he does it. “Could I be one of those things?”
I walk away, smiling at him over my shoulder without saying a word. Hewon’tbe one of those things, but Beck doesn’t know that.
“Stop leading that guy on,” Beck growls, grabbing a credit card out of my hand.
I raise my eyes and look up at him from beneath my lashes. “Who says I’m leading him on?”
He slams the gin onto the shelf. “You’re not going home with Pritchard. He’s a douchebag.”
This is ridiculous. “Funny how every guy who shows an interest in me is a douchebag, yet those whoresyougo home with are just fine. Why is that?”
We don’t say another word to each other for the rest of the night and his mood is so foul that it’s a relief to hear him shout for last call, since it means I’ll finally be able to get away from him.
Overconfident Guy leans forward, his hands pressed together in supplication. “Now,will you do a shot for me?”
“’Fraid not. It’s last call. You want anything else?”
He winks. “I want a whole lot of things, but for now, just let me borrow your neck for a body shot.”
I have no desire to let this moron put his tongue on my neck, and am about to say so when I glance at Beck and see that lovely spark of fury in his eyes.
Good, asshole. Now you know how it feels.
“Okay,” I purr, loud enough for Beck to hear. I hand the guy a salt shaker and a shot of tequila, and then I climb onto the bar, popping a lime wedge between my teeth as I lean back on my forearms to offer him my neck.
He hasn’t even gotten close to me before I’m scooped up and thrown over Beck’s shoulder. He marches toward the office, shouting at Liam to take over.
“You’re done,” he says, slamming the door behind us and setting me down. “If you’re going to act like a whore, do it in someone else’s bar.”
He didnotjust call me a whore. My heart is in my throat, my blood rushing to my brain in waves.
“Fuck you!” I pick up a stapler from his desk and throw it at him. He catches it easily, so I hunt for something else to throw. “You’ve done nothing but tell me to forget about Caleb, but I do something that doesn’t evenapproachwhat you do with your ‘patrons’ andI’ma whore?”
His jaw is locked, his nostrils flaring. “I didn’t tell you to replace Caleb with a douchebag.”
He’s jealous. He’ssofucking jealous.
Good. He should be.
I slam down the pencil cup I was about to throw. “There’s a big difference betweenreplacingsomeone andscrewingsomeone. But you know all about that, don’t you? You’redyingto fuck me again, but instead you go home with Suzanne.”
I expect him to lash out, but he does not. Instead, in absolute silence, he turns the dead bolt behind him. The fine hairs on the back of my arms stand on end as he approaches, so broad that he blocks my view of the door entirely.
