7. Vi
vi
. . .
Over the next week, Ren, Cole, and I fell into a natural rhythm—when the blond bartender decided to actually show up, at least. Dana and Ren weren’t joking about him being fucking unreliable, late more often than not, but it seemed to me that was just part of his devil-may-care attitude.
And, even if Ren bitched about it when he left us hanging, she always had a smile for Cole whenever he did manage to show.
As annoying as it was, I’d decided it was none of my business. Cole—Blondie to the guests—could come and go as he pleased. As long as I was still making enough money to consider finally putting a payment on my credit card, it didn’t make a difference to me.
Besides, when he was around, the three of us made a hell of a team. It felt like I’d been working at O for months instead of just a handful of days, muscle memory returning in full force.
At first, I’d been super turned off by feeling that I was backtracking my career goals, but the more I got to know my coworkers and the patrons, the easier it was to ignore that little voice in my head that sounded way too much like my dad berating me for not using my degree.
When I let myself relax a little and enjoy myself, I was having the time of my fucking life.
“Am I good to go for a break?” I called down to Ren, wiping a bit of spilled tonic water off the bar with a rag.
“Yeah,” the vampire said, handing over a wine glass full of deep red liquid too thick to be vino to a girl in a skintight silver sequin dress with the exchange of a fifty earning her a wink. “We have things covered here.”
Today, Ren was dressed in a sharp black dress shirt unbuttoned dangerously low down her tattooed chest, revealing just the right amount of boob. A talent that I was as grateful for as the peek at her strong forearms her sleeves, rolled to her tattooed elbows, provided. I’d spent most of the night trying–and failing— not to stare. An immense amount of effort felt wasted to watch Silver Sequins not even bother to pretend as she giggled, turning to disappear back into the crowd, drink in hand.
Come on! I’m only human.
You put a gorgeous, intelligent, insanely perceptive woman in my path and I was powerless to deny the urge to look . Especially when every time she bent over, she flashed me the curve of her mostly flat chest.
“Are you going?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, her gaze finding mine locked on her collarbone. Ren’s tongue pressed against her fang as she gave me a cheeky smirk. “Or can I help you?”
“No!” I said too quickly.
“No, you aren’t going?”
“No! I mean, yes! I am going! No, you can’t help!” I felt the heat rising in my cheeks again, a flicker of irritation accompanying it. Why did I have to be so easy to fluster?
“Enjoy your break, Pet,” Ren called, her voice airy and teasing as she waved me off.
“Yeah,” I said vaguely, though it came out as more of a squeak. I cleared my throat, stowing my rag in the bin under the bar with the other dirties. “See you in a bit.”
Cole winked as I passed, hands busy wiping out a glass. His icy blond buzz cut was painted pink and purple in the lights, reminding me of Valentine’s Day candy. “We’ll try not to burn it down without you, girl.”
I rolled my eyes but bit back my retort to his snickering, settling on flipping him off out of the customers' view.
He’d been ribbing me about Elsie since we closed together on Thursday. Not that Elsie was helping, since she seemed to enjoy my company as much as I craved hers. Cole swore up and down that her habit of sitting on one of the bar stools to sip her coffee before the club opened was a new development. She’d usually spent most of her time with the girls in the back, gossiping and taking her time getting ready.
So, basically, she was specifically doing it to spend time with me .
As if .
And now? He’d just had another front-row seat at my awkward attempt to act like Ren wasn’t one of the most alluring women I’d ever laid eyes on.
It was a recipe for disaster. Something told me that my obvious crushes were quickly going to work their way through the workplace rumour mill, and the last thing I needed was a reputation for sleeping around the bar in my first week.
Well, at least until I’d actually managed to do it. If I’d earned the rumours, then fine. It was a cross I was willing to bear.
So, so willing.
I made a beeline for the heavy velvet curtain that led to the back, nearly bumping right into Kaylee waiting for her cue by the short steps backstage on my way to the staff fridge in the little kitchenette hidden just off Dana’s old office.
She was wrapped in a green costume that was more gemstone than fabric, the little thong-style bottoms glittering as she tapped her foot to the beat. An elaborate ostrich feather headdress was pinned into her golden locks, giving her the air of an old-time Vegas showgirl. Captivating, and totally over the top.
I smacked her nearly bare ass on the way with a loud crack.
“Break a leg, Babydoll!”
She laughed and tried to swat me as I passed, barely clipping my arm. “Thanks, Striker!”
The kitchenette was overly bright after the dim lights of the club, the overhead light making me squint as it glowed to life.
“Christ,” I muttered, clicking toward the fridge in my heels.
Throwing the door open, I found the salads Elsie had brought for us today and started poking around in the dishwasher for a couple of large bowls and some forks.
I’d never really been a fan of eating out of a takeout box. It made the entire experience of ordering in seem less special than going to a restaurant—this was still a meal I didn’t have to cook, I wanted to enjoy it!
I popped open the containers, transferring the chicken to a little plate before putting it in the microwave to heat it up. Something about ice-cold meat always freaked me out.
Leaning against the counter to the sound of the microwave plate rotating, I pulled my phone from where I’d tucked it into my bra. Danny had texted to confirm we were still on for the game tomorrow at Kaylee’s. I typed them a quick reply filled with emojis.
My sibling hated emojis; they thought that they were the modern equivalent of hieroglyphs and that we as a society were backsliding by using them. Which of course meant I used as many as possible whenever I texted them.
Hey, what’re younger sisters for?
I tipped the rest of the salads into our bowls, taking care to arrange our toppings instead of letting them all land in the bottom.
“Looks delicious,” Dana said, leaning around me to take down a packet of animal crackers I’d always assumed were Elsie’s. She popped a giraffe-shaped cookie into her mouth with a crunch .
It made me grin; they just didn’t seem like the sort of snack someone as serious as Dana would be into. She really gave off more of a fancy seed cracker vibe.
“How’s our most popular bartender tonight?”
I laughed. “I’m not the most popular, I’ve hardly been here a week. Hey, toss me a lion, would you?”
She shrugged her lean shoulders, searching the zipper bag until she produced a little lion cookie, handing it to me. “Tell that to our numbers. Are you staying for staff night?”
I tucked my phone away and took the snack from her, fingers lingering where they brushed. “Wouldn’t miss it!” I popped the cracker in my mouth, talking with my mouth slightly full as the microwave went off. “Wanna eat with us? I’m headed for Elsie now.”
“Nah, you girls have fun,” Dana said with a smile, brushing one of her long braids off her shoulder. “I’m going to head back to my office and try to get a bit of work in before the festivities. Which reminds me—don’t fill up too much. I have a real treat planned for tonight.”
“You got it.” I paused for a second. “Hey, Dana?”
“Yeah?”
“Make time to rest, okay? Burnout is no joke.”
I’d never seen the vampire sit down. Or eat a real meal. She was dangerously close to becoming the bloodsucking, sleepless monster stereotype, and it made me seriously worried for her mental health.
Her lips quirked into a smile that showed her fangs. “I’ll think about it, Striker. Off you go.”
A part of me didn’t believe her. It wasn’t hard to spot a workaholic when you were recovering from the toxic behaviours yourself. But it was especially easy with people like Dana who were always on the go, go, go .
I sighed, giving her hip a little nudge with my own as I made my way toward Elsie’s vanity.
The little blonde vampire was perched on her stool, removing her maroon lipstick with a makeup wipe. A smile bloomed across her delicate features as she spotted me in her mirror, the corners of her ruby eyes crinkling at the edges.
“Hello, you,” I said, returning her grin as she pushed her makeup away, leaving a narrow space for us to set our plates.
“I love you,” the vampire moaned at the sight of dinner, wasting no time stabbing herself a few forkfuls of salad to shove into her mouth the moment I’d set it down.
There wasn’t a ton of time to eat between sets, but since Elsie was kind enough to order for us, I didn’t mind. It was cool to get a few minutes to talk every day, at least.
I grabbed the stool from Kaylee’s station and dropped it beside hers. It’d become our routine—if you could call the fourth day in a row of doing something a routine. Nick would take up the role of courier and leave his post at the door temporarily to bring down whatever we’d picked out for lunch while Elsie sat and watched me do the opening checklist. She’d go on stage for her first solo of the night, and I'd take my break right after to set up our plates. Then we’d get between fifteen and twenty minutes to eat before rushing off in different directions to play our parts making sure the club had a successful night.
“I like this,” Elsie said between mouthfuls, tugging at the fabric of my dress as I settled beside her. Her lithe fingers grazed my bare back, casting a line of fire despite the chill of her skin. “How am I supposed to dance without falling off the stage with you looking like that behind the bar?”
“Want me to cover up?” I teased, butterflies throwing a rave in my stomach as she slid her hand further along my spine.
The caress of her teasing fingers stopped where the band of my bra should’ve been, Elsie’s pupils dilating until there was only a thin ring of ruby around the mass of black. Her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips.
My mind took a sharp detour from workplace respectability and into thoughts of what her tongue would feel like between my legs.
“Only an idiot would tell you to put more clothes on,” she said seriously, her voice a little breathless as she pulled away from me. I didn’t miss the way her eyes dipped to the mirror for a long look at my chest.
And I absolutely didn’t arch my back a little to draw more attention to it.
“My eyes are up here,” I whispered suggestively, spearing up some salad and bringing it to my lips.
“Sue me,” she muttered, reaching to brush a stray hair away from my collarbone. “What am I supposed to do when you look like the most delicious snack I’ve ever?—”
The rest of Elsie’s words were drowned out by the ringing in my ears.
An image, out of focus like a grainy old camera, of the two of us together flashed in my mind.
Elsie’s hands wrapped around my thighs as she kneeled before me on the ground, lips glossy as she looked up.
I caught my smirk in the mirror, widening my legs to give her more room. “Enjoying your meal, Princess?”
She grazed her fangs along my inner thigh, making my legs shake with anticipation for the release that would follow.
“Vi, honey, this is just a snack .” Her manicured nails dug into my soft flesh, and I gasped, reaching to pull my dress a little higher. Elsie wrapped her lips around the crease of my thigh, her fangs puncturing my flesh and drawing my blood to the surface, along with a wave of pleasure that, when paired with the press of my fingers, threw me headlong into an orgasm. “The most delicious snack I’ve ever had, sweetness ? —”
The image warped, leaving me feeling out of sorts as I blinked a few times until Elsie was back in focus. While I’d been daydreaming, she’d leaned in, looking at me through her long lashes, glitter shimmering on her eyelids.
Her eyes flicked from mine to my lips, and for a moment, I thought about kissing her… but then a tendril of whatever the fuck I’d just been thinking about flickered at the corner of my vision and I found myself shifting away from the vampire uncomfortably.
What kind of sociopath has weirdo sexy fantasies while talking to a girl they’ve known less than a week?
My eyes dropped to my plate, my appetite gone under the embarrassment and guilt rolling in my stomach.
I didn’t miss the frown that creased Elsie’s brow as she studied my stiff posture.
“Wait, what just happened? What did I say?” She moved her hand as if to touch me, and I flinched, so she dropped it, pulling her lip between her teeth.
My eyes fixated on where her fangs pressed against her full bottom lip.
“It’s nothing.” I bit out.
What the hell was that?
A fantasy?
No, it was too realistic to be something I’d made up. I was creative, sure. But not that creative.
A memory?
Certainly not. How could I have memories like that of a person I just met?
“Um…”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes round with worry. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
I opened my mouth without knowing what I was going to say. A part of me wanted to tell her what happened, but even I knew that was self-sabotage. A futile attempt at giving her a reason to give up on whatever the hell had us making excuses to see each other.
A crush?
Undeniable sexual tension?
Either way, I was saved from my cowardice when Dana strolled out from the kitchen, the bag of animal crackers dangling from her long fingers.
“Elsie, your call is in a few minutes,” she said, taking in the stony silence between us with interest. “What did I just walk in on?”
“Nothing,” I answered quickly, standing from my stool and collecting my untouched plate. “I better get back. See you around, Els.”
What the hell was I thinking? There was nothing between Elsie Miller and me. Besides freakishly weird sexy fantasies, we were just coworkers.
Incredibly flirty coworkers.
I all but sprinted for the kitchenette, taking a long, slow breath as the door swung shut behind me. I was scraping my plate into the trash when I realised that I could smell Elsie’s perfume from where she’d touched me. It lingered in my hair and on the fabric of my dress.
Pear and freesia.
I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood.
It was time to get a fucking grip.