Chapter 12
TWELVE
PAIGE
A bead of sweat rolls down my spine.
The back of my Illinois Legends T-shirt—the one I modified to a more form-fitting, sexier style for work because …
tips—is damp from the chaos of the night.
My legs are on fire, and I wish I would’ve worn my other pair of sneakers.
But my tip jar is full, the bar has slowed down, and the handsome stranger in the brown flannel is still sitting at the end.
Waiting on me to have a moment to talk, perhaps.
I consider not chatting with him because I’m feeling kind of cranky, but then think—why the hell not? It’s not like I have a man to consider.
“What about you?” I ask, tapping my fingernails against the bar as I approach him. “You need anything else?”
He looks me up and down, his lips parting into a smirk. “Dangerous question.”
I laugh. “Well, it wasn’t intended to be dangerous.”
He grins. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Paige. Yours?”
“Griffin.”
“Cute.”
“Hey, Paige!”
I look up to see Robbie waving at me from under the television. He’s one of my favorite regulars—always in a good mood, always friendly, and always hungry. Even now, at close to closing time.
“What’s up, Robbie?” I ask.
“Can I get some of those little tacos when you get a chance? And if you tell me that Nate forgot to stock them again …” He presses a fist into his other hand.
I laugh. “I think we have some.” I turn back to Griffin. “If you need anything, just shout.”
He lifts his beer and tips it my way. It almost hides his smirk.
I give him a lingering smile before turning away.
I’m glad Nate texted me to work because I was considering how to get out of the house so I didn’t have to see him. Maybe he was having the same feelings. Either way, it works for me.
It took me all day to talk myself into a mode of acceptance. There’s nothing to be upset about. I just need to treat Nate like a friend—and he is a good friend—and move on. That’s all. Easy peasy. Ish.
“Hi,” Kira says as I enter the kitchen.
I sigh.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
Nate. “Nothing much.”
“Who is the hot guy at the end of the bar?” she asks. “I came out there to grab a Coke and spotted him.”
“Oh, yes. Griffin is his name. Very cute. Has been quiet and patient, which is a plus.”
“And, of course, he wants you, doesn’t he?”
She throws a pickle at me. I dodge it easily and then pick it up off the floor.
“I don’t know if he wants me or if he’s being polite. He hasn’t said anything to me,” I say. “Chill out.”
“You can’t have all the guys, Paige. You already have Nate.”
My insides shrink. This isn’t going to be fun.
“Nate and I aren’t a thing,” I say flatly. “I’m just staying at his house until I find an apartment.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. We’re just friends. Nothing else. Like, facts on facts on facts.”
She nods. “Okay. Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“No worries,” I say, heading back to the bar. “Robbie wants mini tacos. Okay? I didn’t write it down.”
“I got ya.”
I grab a clean towel and wipe the bar down—starting at one end and working my way to the other.
I might have to get a new job.
I don’t think I can work with Nate or listen to everyone assume we’re an item. It’s embarrassing, given the circumstances.
Last night’s conversation was probably the first real conversation that addressed our … situation. Nate might be attracted to me, but he doesn’t actually want me.
He doesn’t want me.
I had no idea that everyone here assumed something was between us. If I had, I wouldn’t have begged to stay at his place. Knowing that Kira thought we were a done deal is just … so uncomfortable.
If Nate doesn’t want to see me with other men, then I sure as hell don’t want to see him with the one. The long-term woman he wants to settle down with.
So new job, new apartment … new me? Well, I guess that answers that.
“Tacos are coming, Robbie,” I say.
He gives me a thumbs-up and resumes watching the sports program on the television.
I can feel Griffin’s gaze on me as I get closer. I try to shake all things Nate out of my head. He’s just my friend.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Griffin asks as I stop in front of him.
“Can’t drink on the job.”
He leans forward. “Well, I guess that just means I’ll have to take you out for a drink then.”
Griffin looks at me like he wants to lick every inch of my body. And if my body’s reaction is any indication, it’s game. That or it’s in a perpetual state of want from being in proximity to Nate all the damn time.
I rest my torso against the countertop. The position makes my cleavage peek out through the slit I cut in the front of my shirt. I pop my ass because I need a boost of confidence and lean toward Griffin.
His eyes sparkle. “Damn, you’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“So can I take you out? Say yes. Don’t ruin my night.”
I laugh. “That’s an awfully big responsibility you just pinned on me if I could ruin your whole entire night.”
“You’ve given me an awfully big problem tonight too.” He reaches under the bar and widens his eyes. “So can I take you out sometime?”
“What would we do?” I ask, figuring it doesn’t hurt to see what kind of guy he is.
I’m on the market, after all. And after a quick perusal, he doesn’t come across as my type. It could work.
“We can do anything you want, baby.”
“I—”
I jump, but I don’t turn around. I don’t have to. Even if Griffin didn’t look like he’d seen a ghost—or in this case a six-foot tall bar owner with what I can only imagine is a glare, at best, on his face—I’d know from the scent of Nate’s cologne.
And also from the feeling of his hands gripping my waist on either side.
What’s Nate doing here?
I try to stand, but his fingers dip deeper into my waist. He holds me just like he found me and watches Griffin over my back.
Griffin, the man who was just seconds ago the hero in this scenario, has faded quickly into the background. Nate is now the main character.
My insides liquify as he holds me so tight that I can’t move, but his grip is not to the point of actual pain. It’s a delicious kind of burn, a heat so hot and so intense that I lose my breath for a moment.
“You need anything else?” Nate asks, his voice trembling with what I think is fury.
Oh, shit.
Griffin looks at me and then back at Nate. He stands and takes his wallet out of his back pocket. A few bills are laid on the counter.
He walks out without another word.
Nate’s grip releases just enough that I spin around. The freedom lights something inside me.
“What the hell was that?” I ask him, giving his glower back to him.
“I was going to ask you the same damn thing.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kira take Robbie his tacos.
Nate and I stand eye to eye for what feels like forever before either one of us gives in. He’s the one who breaks.
He takes my elbow and leads me toward his office. I jerk my arm away—getting a glare over the shoulder from him in return—but follow him nonetheless. Kira signals to me that she has things under control as we slip by the kitchen.
As soon as my ass is through the door, Nate slams it behind me.
“You know what?” I say, pointing a finger at him. “Check yourself.”
“Excuse me?” He closes the distance between us. “I need to check myself? Come again?”
“I was hoping to come again, but you just scared him off.”
His eyes go wide, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t recoil. Doesn’t hiccup so much as a breath to cut the tension between us.
Damn him.
“What are you doing here anyway?” I ask.
“What were you going to do, Paige? Were you gonna let that little rat bastard take you out and bend you over the hood of his car?”
“Maybe. What’s it to you, friend?”
“Are you just trying to piss me off?”
“I didn’t even know you were here.”
His chest rumbles with anger.
“You don’t get to do this, Nate. You don’t get to friend zone me and then come in here and act like I’m out of line for getting some guy’s number.”
“You got his number?”
“Yeah. And his condom size, if it matters.”
Both are lies. I don’t know why I even said that but fuck him for doing this. He deserves to be pissed.
His nostrils flare, and it would be super hot if I wasn’t so angry.
“Tread lightly,” he warns me.
“Or what? What are you going to do? Because I’ll tell you what you’re not going to do.
You’re not going to see me bent over the hood of your car.
Because we’re friends, which is fine. It’s grand.
Thank you for being honest about that and not leading me on.
” I suck in a hasty breath. “But being friends means that you have no say in what I do or who I date. What do you expect me to do? Live my life chaste because you don’t want me? Fuck off.”
Admitting that out loud to him kills a small part of my soul, but I march on because I’m no quitter. Especially when I’m mad.
“Oh, I know what you’re going to do,” I say, lifting my chin in defiance. “You’re going to just police my dates, aren’t you? Sit on the porch with a baseball bat, right, Daddy—ooh!”
Nate’s hands cup both sides of my head a split second before his mouth crushes against mine. Our bodies are so close that there’s no room for even a feather. He moves his lips against mine so assertively—as if he were afraid that I might miss the moment.
I sag against him, overtaken by the sensations rippling through my body. The heat of his breath. The softness of his tongue. The calluses on his thumbs as he presses them into my cheeks.
The smell of his cologne and the taste of peppermint on his lips. How deliciously solid his chest is and how rock hard his cock is pressed against my stomach.
My knees go weak. My nipples are hard. My legs are so heavy they’re almost unable to hold me up.
Finally, Nate pulls back and rests his forehead against mine. We struggle to breathe.
We struggle to make sense of what just happened.
He kissed me.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
“Why don’t you go on back to the house? I’ll help Kira close up,” he says as he pulls away from me.
What?
“Mrs. Kim took Ryder to see her daughter and her grandkids for dinner,” he says. “You can have the house to yourself for a little while.”
“I … Oh. Okay.” I shake my head as if the movement will jar my senses back into place. “That’s what you want to say right now?”
He shrugs as if there’s nothing else to say, but his eyes betray him.
“I don’t know what this was tonight,” I say, pointing at him. “But it better not happen again.”
“Paige …”
I have no clue what he’s about to say, but I know that sticking around here isn’t going to end well. Not tonight.
“Bye,” I say, walking past him like he didn’t just give me the best kiss of my damn life.
I don’t turn around. I don’t look back at him. I just get my purse, clock out, and head home.