Chapter Nine-Maria
CHAPTER NINE-MARIA
B utterflies?
I try to calm down as I wipe the bar and load the last of the glasses in the big plastic tub for one of the bussers to bring to the kitchen to be run through the dishwasher.
My stomach is clenched so hard, I might actually have abs by the time the night’s over.
Yeah. Right.
I snort at my idiotic joke and shake my head.
But seriously, do people really call this feeling of anxiety and nervous anticipation butterflies?
It doesn’t feel soft and gentle. Like a swarm of pretty butterflies.
It feels like I have fighter jets going at it inside my gut.
Maybe I’m worrying for nothing. Maybe Luc was just messing around.
Then I hear his voice.
“Baby Girl, you ready?”
I turn, my eyes wide.
“Just let me get my bag,” I whisper my reply.
Tell him, Maria. Tell him you’re a fucking green as grass virgin and he’ll run the other way.
I frown at my inner voice. It’s self-preservation, right? It has to be.
But I don’t want to listen. In fact, I am not going to.
I’m tired of being afraid.
Of living day to day just working with no social life to speak of.
Of looking over my shoulder.
Of not being able to be with my mother through the toughest time of her life after Papi’s death.
I want to grab this thing for myself. For once in my life, I want to have a little control.
I want to be with someone.
Someone I choose.
I grab my bag and lock the safe, then I turn to face him.
I expect him to be on the phone or something. But he isn’t. He isn’t working or talking to anyone else.
Luc’s focus is on me.
He’s waiting patiently for me .
I really should run. I should tell him something about the real me. But I don’t.
His steel eyes watch every step I take towards him as I round the bar. His gaze drops to where flashes of leg peek through the slits on my pants and I bite my lip.
He hums that same growling sound I’ve heard him make a time or two, and it sends spikes of anticipation sizzling through me.
My pussy aches and I feel wet down there.
“Baby Girl?” He says the nickname like it is a question when I falter my next step.
This is it, Maria. Last chance to run.
I straighten my shoulders and meet his hungry gaze.
“I’m ready,” I lie.