20. Skye
“What are you doing here?”
My head whips toward Waylon, who’s hollering from the bar. Rogue gave me a couple of days off, and this is my first day back. I spent most of my time in bed with him between my legs, and I’m certainly not complaining.
“Uh… I work here.”
Waylon narrows his eyes. “You sure about that? Last time I saw you, you were being escorted out of here by Rogue and a prospect for stealing.”
“Whoa, seriously?” Tony interrupts. “Skye isn’t a thief.”
“See?” I smile gratefully at Tony. “Even he knows I’m not.”
“All I know is that you had the missing cash inside your locker when Rogue saw you getting ready to leave that night.”
What the hell is Waylon’s problem? Why is he having this discussion with me in front of other people?
The waitresses stop cleaning and move closer to hear what’s going on. Tony shifts so he’s standing inches away, almost as if he’s physically prepared to defend me.
“I know the evidence was damning, but I swear I’ve never stolen anything in my life.”
“I’m sure you understand that I need to call Rogue and verify all this with him.”
Dropping down onto a stool, I wave toward the phone in his hand. “Go ahead.”
Waylon glares at me as he holds the phone up to his ear. “Yo, Rogue… no the bar isn’t on fire… I… yeah, Skye is here. So, you’re good with her working here? What about the money?... okay, okay… Yeah, I got it.”
I shouldn’t take such delight in watching Waylon squirm, but I’m still a little pissed that after two years he’d have such little faith in me. However, it’s also hard for me to imagine any of my coworkers stealing from the bar.
After he ends the call, I jump up from the stool. “Can I get to work now?”
“Get clocked in and help Tony finish stocking.” Waylon spins on his heel and walks to the back office.
Rushing to the breakroom to put my stuff in my locker, I run directly into RaRa who spins me around in a bone-crushing hug. “Girl! I’m so glad you’re back.”
“Me too!”
It’s only been a few days, but this bar is my life. Being away was like losing a part of myself. Everything is exactly the same… Even RaRa is wearing his signature leather pants with high-heeled boots. He’s also donning the same off-the-shoulder see-through top I bought from Naughty/Nice, except his is a deep red instead of purple. Frowning, I realize he looks better in it than I do.
RaRa smirks knowingly and twirls for my amusement. “I know, I look hot,” he brags.
“Yeah, yeah,” I say dismissively. “We all know you’re rocking the hell outta that outfit. And no, we are not playing ‘Who wore it best’. I give, you win.”
RaRa chuckles for a moment before frowning and placing his hands on his hips. “All joking aside, what the fuck happened?” RaRa inquires. “One day, you’re the best bartender we’ve ever had, and the next, Waylon is telling everyone that you’re never coming back.”
Why would Waylon tell everyone I was never gonna come back? So much for confidentiality.
“It was a huge misunderstanding,” I explain. “I was getting my purse out of my locker and found a stack of bills. I have no idea how they got there. Next thing I know, Rogue is behind me, accusing me of stealing.”
“Stealing?!” RaRa shrieks. “I was wondering why Waylon called me that night asking a bunch of questions about you.”
“Hush,” I admonish. “After they took me to the clubhouse…”
RaRa holds up his hand to stop me. “They took you to the clubhouse, and you’re standing here to tell me about it?”
“Why does everyone assume the worst?”
But he’s not wrong… I didn’t think I’d ever make it out either.
“Honey, you work in a bar owned by bikers. Of course, everyone is gonna assume the worst when you’re suddenly no longer here.”
It might be wrong to not divulge my secret to my friends, but I haven’t yet come to terms with the fact that I could have a learning disability. Besides, Rogue asked me to keep it to myself for now.
I chuckle at his embellishment. “As you can see, I’m alive and breathing. I was able to explain what happened, and that was that. Rogue was hostile at first, but once I proved my innocence, he apologized and took me home.”
That’s a drastic understatement of what happened, but it’s all I’m willing to say.
RaRa rocks back on his heels and folds his arms. His gaze roams over my body, causing me to squirm under his watchful eye.
“Oh, my gawd… You fucked Rogue!” he shouts. “How did I not notice?”
“Shut up!” I hiss. “No… no, I didn’t. Wait, notice what?”
“Sweetie, you have that ‘I’ve been thoroughly fucked’ look.” He smirks. “And that certainly wasn’t achieved with Bob.”
My cheeks burn. “I didn’t…we didn’t.”
“Yeah, there’s no way you stole anything. You’re a shit liar.” RaRa winks. “Don’t worry love, your secret is safe with me.”
I smack his chest. “You’re crazy.”
“Yep.” He grins and takes my hand in his. “You deserve some happiness.”
Tears well up in my eyes. “How?”
The question lingers between us, but RaRa knows exactly what I’m asking.
How do you know?
“Anyone with a heart can see you hold yourself back from forming real relationships. You keep us all at arm’s length. Rogue is perfect for you.” RaRa smiles. “Took you both long enough, though. I’ve been waiting for you two to rip off the Band-Aid and do the horizontal shuffle for two long freaking years.”
Wrapping my arms around his waist, I squeeze him tight. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“You’re my girl.” He pulls away and wipes his eyes. “Don’t ruin my make-up. It takes a long time to look this good.”
“One of these days, you’re gonna give me some tips.”
“Trade secrets, girl. Trade secrets.” He spins me around and swats my ass. “Now, get that ass back out there. Tony has been bitching ever since you left. No one keeps up as well as you. Not even Waylon.”
Waving over my shoulder, I hurry back to the bar where Tony is stocking clean mugs. “Sorry, Tony. I ran into RaRa.”
“Say no more.” He laughs. “That man has been a mess since you disappeared.”
“Oh, really?” I jest. “According to him, you’re the one who’s been a mess.”
“Fucker,” he mumbles, and I snicker.
Instead of goading him more, I pick up a crate of beer bottles and start stocking the cooler. We work quickly and before we know it, Waylon is unlocking the door. We’re steady at first, but the closer we get to rush hour, the more the bar fills up.
“What can I get you?” I ask one of our regulars.
“Two shots of Jack and a beer, pretty lady.”
I wink at him. “You got it.” I turn to grab the whiskey and almost plow right into Waylon, who’s standing behind me. “Waylon, what the hell?”
“Everything okay up here?”
“We’re good. It’s not too bad yet.”
I move around him to fill the order, and then I hand the full mug to the customer and take his money. I sidestep to the register and get his change. Before I can ask Waylon if he needs anything, another patron steps up to the bar and asks for a drink.
Waylon continues to hover, watching every exchange I make. The more he watches, the more my confidence slips.
The next customer orders four beers, but I shut the drawer before getting his change. Using the calculator Rogue has by the register, I figure out how much I owe him before I open the drawer.
“Dammit, Skye. You owe him six-fifty.”
“I know.”
“Why the hell do you need the calculator?”
I whip around to face him, keeping my voice low. “I was accused of stealing two days ago… Excuse me for wanting to be cautious. Why don’t you go back to your office? You’re making me nervous.”
“I’m your boss. Show a little respect,” he retorts. “And why am I making you nervous? Afraid I’m gonna catch you stealing and report you to Rogue?”
“Respect is earned, not given.” I have no idea what possessed me to give Waylon shit, but he’s getting on my last nerve. “And no, I expect you to report anyone stealing to Rogue, but you’re barking up the wrong tree. You hovering over me is causing me to make mistakes.”
“Pay attention to what you’re doing, and I won’t have to hover.”
It doesn’t do any good arguing with him because Waylon can be a giant asshole, and if he knows he’s annoying you, he’ll keep doing it. He used to leave me alone and bug everyone else, but now it seems I’m the only employee on his radar.
I bite my tongue, refusing to engage with him anymore, and continue to fill drinks. An hour later, we’re slammed, but Waylon is leaning against the back of the bar with his phone out, and he’s texting someone. He’s probably giving Rogue a play-by-play on what’s going on and complaining about my insubordination.
“Waylon, we’re getting backed up here,” Tony says as he grabs a bottle of vodka. “Think you can help us out?”
Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Waylon scowls. “I’ll grab some more cases of beer and bring them up.”
Time passes quickly, and before I know it, Tony is hollering ‘last call’. Tony finishes with the stragglers while I wipe down the bar and put another load of mugs and shot glasses in the steamer. Waylon stalks over to the door to lock it just as Rogue comes strutting in.
I can’t help but stare as he moves fluidly through the bar. Rogue is wearing a black Henley which is covered by his cut. His shirt is tight enough to encompass his muscles, and my mouth waters remembering our sexcapades. The way he watches me as he crosses the room makes me wonder if I have drool falling out of my mouth.
“Hey,” I greet.
Really? This man has fucked you senseless, and ‘hey’ is the best you can come up with?
Rogue smirks like he knows what I’m thinking. “Hey.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I own the place.”
I throw a rag at his face, but he easily catches it. “Smartass.”
“Skye.” Tony steps beside me interrupting our terrible attempt at flirting. “Is it cool if I head out? I have a date.”
I snicker. “You mean a booty call?”
“Rude. I can have a date.”
“At two a.m.? Tony, that’s what we call a booty call.”
“Fine,” he concedes. “Are you okay with me taking off, or do you need me to walk you to your car?”
“She’s fine,” Rogue growls. “I’ll walk her out.”
Tony raises his hands and backs up. “Okay… message received.” Before I can say anything, he’s gone.
“What the hell was that all about?” I ask Rogue.
Before he can respond, Waylon comes around the counter. “Rogue, you here to see me?”
“No,” he replies briskly. “Where were you?”
Waylon puffs out his chest. “I was counting the drawers. You’ll be happy to know we weren’t short tonight.”
“Good.”
“You can head out now, Skye,” Waylon says snidely.
Yeah, only because he didn’t find a shortage in my drawer.
“Waylon, you head out,” Rogue says dismissively.
Waylon points at me. “What about her?”
“She’s fine where she is,” Rogue says without any other explanation.
Waylon’s head whips back and forth between me and Rogue, but before he can ask any more questions, Rogue knits his brows.
“Get out,” he barks.
“I’m going, boss. I’ll see ya tomorrow to go over the books,” Waylon states as he scurries away.
As soon as the back door slams shut, Rogue crooks his finger at me.
“Come here.”
His dominating tone makes me come undone, and I swear my insides melt.
Who am I to refuse?
“Yes, sir.”