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Brent rolled his eyes at me. “Why do you always take forever to get ready to go anywhere?”
Five weeks ago, he was swinging me in his arms and buying me hot drinks to thank me for helping him get the support he needed. It took very little time at all for him to revert back to hisusual grumpiness and to get unreasonably agitated at everything I did. “I like to look nice when I go out, that’s not a crime.”
“You don’t need an hour to look nice,” he gestured at me.
“Ooh, careful now big guy, that’s dangerously close to a compliment.” He grumbled incoherently. “I need a shower,” I explained.
“So do I, I can still be ready in ten minutes,” he countered.
“Before I can shower, I need to properly wash my face before I can perfectly apply my makeup. Then I need to shower—it takes me a while. I need to shave my legs,” I continued. Brent gave Lance a look as if to say ‘sort her out,’ but Lance just chuckled, enjoying our back and forth. “I can’t shower without shaving my legs, it feels weird to me. Then, I need to moisturise every inch of me.” I waved my arms up and down the length of my body in demonstration. “Then, once that’s soaked in, I need to do hair and makeup and get dressed. So, I will tell you again, I need an hour.”
Brent looked like he was about to argue some more, but Lance held his hand up to stop him. “You do realise in all this time you two have spent arguing, Elle probably could have showeredandshaved her legs?”
With another grunt and roll of his eyes, Brent disappeared into his bedroom. Lance turned to me and planted a soft kiss on my cheek. “We’ll meet you at the front door in an hour.”
I went straight to my private bathroom and splashed warm water on my face and then rubbed in my favourite, very expensive cleanser, keeping my eyes squeezed shut to stop them from getting sudsy. Is it just me, or are those moment when you’re washing your face and you can’t open your eyes, the scariest moments ever? Like, I just feel that when I do open my eyes, there’ll be a monster behind me in the mirror. As usual, there was no ghoul waiting for me once I’d patted my face dry, and went about my usual routine. Chuckling to myself as I took extra time to shave my legs, singing at the top of my lungs and thinking of all the delicious things Brent could do to me in retribution for taking so long.
Okay, so it was more like an hour and a quarter before I was ready, having had trouble finding the right dress. I’d only recently dyed my hair it’s new vibrant red, knowing my motherpreferred me blonde and had been highlighting my hair since I was twelve-years old. I liked it but would definitely be trying some different colours. Anyway, I was still getting used to the colours that looked good on me now. I went with a cherry-red strappy dress that went all the way down to my knees, quite conservative for me. I mean, it still had a cut out panel in a triangular shape just beneath my breasts and it was completely backless. That and the fact that it was skin-tight all over, made it sexy. My hair was in soft waves to my shoulder, and I kept my make up simple with a winged eyeliner and lips that matched my dress perfectly.
The hungry look that Lance gave me as I descended the stairs toward them told me he’d forgiven me for my tardiness. Brent leant against the door with his arms folded across his chest and staring at me under heavy brows; he seemed pissed. I’d give him a wide berth for at least an hour.
The bar Hayden worked at was a typical student hangout. They did cocktails and pitchers and had a three-hour happy hour. There was loud music and it was dimly lit with coloured flashing lights like a club, but no one danced. Hayden was behind the bar looking fine as fuck in a white shirt and an open black waistcoat with black skinny jeans. His black hair hung just shy of his shoulders and his signature black liner made his green eyes pop. I gave a little smile to myself, so proud to have found myself surrounded by the three hottest guys on campus…probably the world.
Hayden was serving a guy at the bar with an easy smile and a flirty wink. Unlike Lance who chose carefully who he was friendly with, or Brent who wasn’t friendly to anyone, Hayden had an easy rapport with everyone he came across. Bartending suited him well and every time I saw him at the bar, I thought how happy and carefree he looked. He looked up and saw us approaching and aimed that gorgeous smile our way, pointing at three stools available at the far end.
We took our seats and waited for Hayden to become available. We watched him effortlessly mix drinks and interact with customers. A girl came behind the bar, she obviously worked there too, laid a hand on Hayden’s bicep and leaned in towhisper something in his ear. He gave her a tight smile and a nod before she disappeared again in the crowd.
“Hey, wasn’t expecting you lot tonight,” Hayden came over.
“How’s your fan doing?” Lance smiled in amusement.
“Fan?” I asked, looking between them. “What have I missed?”
Hayden hung his head and Lance draped his arm over my shoulders to speak into my ear. “Hayden’s got himself an admirer.”
Putting two and two together, I jerked my chin to where the girl had retreated. “Her? Who is she?”
“Chrissie, she’s my manager.” Hayden sighed.
“You don’t like her?”
“She’s nice, sweet, but I’m not interested. She asked me out and I said no, she said she understood but she keeps flirting and inviting me places. It’s getting awkward.”
“Tell her you have a girlfriend or a boyfriend,” I shrugged.
He shook his head. “Nah, no lies, baby. I hate lying and it’s too easy to get caught out.”
“Just tell her to fuck off,” Brent offered, helpfully.
“Oh yeah, because I can really afford unemployment right now.”
“Hey, H,” a voice called. Another tall and good-looking bartender approached and he placed a hand on Hayden’s shoulder. “Chrissie wants you to help collect glasses, I’ll serve your friends.”
Hayden threw us a pained look and both Lance and Brent chuckled, I bristled. If Hayden was a girl and the manager a man, they wouldn’t be laughing.
"Hey, Elle.” Hayden’s colleague smiles at me. Fuck, should I know his name?
“Hey…”
