Twenty Seconds to Love Him (The Bartender Chronicles #1)

Chapter One

Bryce

“Damn it. He’s here again—he never takes no for an answer.” I round the corner of the bar and look at Calisse, “I’m going to the back to grab some cases.” I tell her, and I hear her laugh as I retreat to the storage room for safety.

“Let me guess,” Caleb teases when he walks in behind me, “Drew is out there again?”

“How’d you guess?”

“It’s the only time I see you back here while on shift. Getting the beer is my job, not yours,” he says, taking the case out of my hands.

He’s not wrong—he’s the barback—but every time Drew comes in, I come back here to prepare myself for the incessant flirting and arrogance.

No matter how many excuses I make, telling him I can’t go out with him, he still comes in at least once a week when I’m on shift to stand by the bar.

Drew isn’t a bad-looking guy, but he’s not my type for so many reasons.

Even though that changes from month to month, or maybe mood to mood some days, no matter what the situation, he’ll never be my type.

After ten minutes, I can’t justify staying back here any longer.

When I make my way to the bar, Drew is in his usual spot.

I only take a few steps before he sees me, flashing a grin that would charm the pants off most people—fortunately, I’m not like most people.

While I’m keeping busy with customers at the opposite end, I see him in my periphery, walking toward me.

“Bryce, how are ya?” I hear him interrupting my current conversation—cockiness and rudeness are two of the reasons he’s not my type—as he stands next to the couple of regulars, inadvertently moving them along so he can have his time with me.

Unfortunately, Drew thinks he’s the most important person in the bar.

“Sorry guys,” I apologize as they turn to walk away. “Hey, Drew. How’s it going?” The faint smell of stale cigarettes radiates off him from across the bar.

“Same shit, different day, right?”

“You need a refill?”

“Of course. The usual.”

Luckily, his favorite tap beer is on the other side of the bar—I welcome every moment away from him.

“How’s the stage five clinger doing tonight?” Calisse loves to tease me about Drew. “Need me to throw his ass out yet?” We’ve never thrown him out of the bar, but she’s waiting patiently for the day I give her the word—I’m just low-key waiting for him to give us a reason.

“Nah. I can handle him.”

She snickers. “I know you can handle him.” With a backslap, she leans in to say, “It’s Drew who wants to find out if you can handle his pencil-dick.”

“And how do you know it’s the size of a pencil?” I cock an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t, but I’m willing to bet on it.” She’s always up for a challenge, but I won’t be taking her up on it. There’s no world where I want to be anywhere near Drew’s dick, and Calisse isn’t that hard-up to prove her point.

I steel myself as I head back with his beer and hope I can escape quickly. Sadly, it’s still early for the after-work crowd to roll in, so Drew tries to hold my attention with small talk.

“Did you catch the Super Bowl? KC didn’t stand a chance this year.”

“Drew, you know I’m a hockey guy,” I remind him for the hundredth time. “My best friend is in the league.”

“Yeah, but he’s in the AHL, right?” he says with a crooked brow.

“You’re unbelievable.” I shake my head as he laughs alone at his joke.

I know he’s only jealous of Bodie because of how close we are, but it grates on my nerves when he acts like the AHL isn’t, as he calls it, ‘real hockey.’ He couldn’t tell you a single rule about hockey; much less know how hard Bodie works because he wants to get into the NHL, and this is the stepping stone to get there.

“Speak of the devil,” Drew gripes as I turn and see my best friend walk in with his girlfriend, who’s sporting the biggest frown as usual.

Since high school, Amber’s attitude has been a mood killer—and she seemed to only direct it toward me—now, I ignore her.

I still can’t figure out what he sees in her, but I don’t have the energy to deal with the nonsense.

“Hey, man. Thought you couldn’t make it tonight?

” I ask Bodie when he scoots around the end of the bar to greet me—he loves hugging more than anyone else I’ve ever met.

Even in high school, he’d randomly give me hugs in the hallway.

I may have had something to do with this, but Bodie made it into a whole thing.

“I told you I’d try.” He waves his hands down his body as he pulls back from me.

“This is me trying and being successful. I’m a damn good friend, aren’t I?

” He grins that award-winning grin women love so much.

Amber is lucky she snagged him in high school, or he’d be drowning in a sea of female fans after every game.

A six-foot-three, fit hockey player with black hair and blue eyes is hard to resist by societal standards.

“Such a great friend.” Amber’s sarcasm doesn’t escape me, but ignoring it bothers her more than anything else. Her crossed arms and scowl say all I need to know about how any conversation with her will go tonight.

“Hey, Drew.” Bodie ignores his girlfriend’s behavior as he returns to the other side of the bar and directs his attention to the pain in my neck. “You here to harass Bryce again?”

“Are you his babysitter now too?”

“No. More like dicksitter,” Bodie says with a straight face and headshake, his curly raven hair falling over his forehead and into his eyes. Amber has been begging him to cut it for years. I’m glad he hasn’t, even if it’s only to spite her.

The three of us stare wide-eyed at him—waiting for some sort of explanation.

“Bodie, you know how that sounds, right?” Drew counters him with a smirk.

“No.” Amber sidles in next to Drew and watches her boyfriend with narrowed eyes. “He doesn’t.”

“I have to make sure creepers aren’t annoying my friend just to get their dick wet.” Bodie aims his accusatory glare at Drew before turning away from both of them. “Do I actually have to order my drink?”

This ridiculous behavior is nothing new in our friendship.

Bodie has always been a little protective over me and my dating habits.

Some of my exes have complained about how needy he is in our friendship—but that’s never been an issue for me.

Bodie and I met when his family moved in across the street from mine, and we quickly became friends.

Who knew that eighteen years later, we would still be friends—and roommates?

Bodie coaxes his girlfriend into a hug while I get to work on their drinks, and Drew decides to give up for the night. My friend’s antics usually dissuade him from continuing, but tonight’s was extra special.

“Is that guy ever going to realize you’re not going out with him?” he asks as I set their drinks in front of them.

“Why won’t you go out with him is a better question.”

“Probably not,” I direct toward Bodie. “And I don’t need a reason. I just don’t want to.” I stare at Amber dead in the eyes for the first time.

“There’s always a reason.” She huffs. “I’m going to play some pool upstairs. Do you want to come?”

Bodie doesn’t even take a breath before responding. “Nope. I’m good here.”

She takes one last look at each of us and, with a roll of her eyes, heads toward the stairs.

“You know your girlfriend still hates me, right?”

“Yeah, but she’ll get over it—someday.” He laughs as if he believes his words. “She’ll be fine. Don’t take it personally.”

“Sure, she will.” He thinks Amber’s loathing will just turn into rainbows and butterflies someday, but I’m pretty sure it gets worse day by day.

The rest of my night flies by once the crowd shows up. Bodie finally goes to find his sullen girlfriend, and they wind up leaving after what looked like a nasty argument in the corner.

A pair of good-looking guys approaching catch my eye. The moment they reach the bar, I’m jealous—the way they’re looking at each other makes my heart burn for a connection like that. After a brief kiss, the taller, dark-haired guy nods at me.

“Hey guys, what can I get you?” I say as I near them to take their order.

They order their beers and get back to eye-fucking each other until a frustrated-looking redhead joins them. When they order a round of shots and down them, another guy arrives—this one is staring at the redhead like she shoots stars out of her ass.

Working in a bar, for the most part, is fun—getting the chance to watch the dynamics between friends and couples, you learn a lot about people.

I get busy and find Puppy Eyes and Tall, Dark and Handsome have abandoned their partners and are back with their group, while Blue Eyes and Cherry Girl start downing shots and having a good time again.

“I’m heading out. Nice to see you again,” Drew calls out as he walks out the door with a brunette in a mini skirt. The smirk on his face tells me he thinks leaving with someone else should bother me—it most definitely doesn’t. I give him a wave and a smile and keep on working.

The rest of the night goes smoothly, and by the time we close up the place, I’m exhausted and ready for bed. Hopefully that means I can get some sleep tonight. I have four missed calls from Bodie when I get in the car. I try to call him back, but he must be sleeping by now, since there’s no answer.

When I approach our door, I hear the TV on inside—louder than normal for this hour of night. I find Bodie in the living room, lying on his stomach, limbs hanging off the edge of the couch. His blank stare at the TV alarms me.

“Bodie, dude. What’s going on?” I kneel down in front of the couch, obstructing his view of the TV, but he doesn’t react in the slightest bit.

I gently shake his shoulder and finally get him to focus on me.

When we make eye contact, tears well up in his eyes, and he clenches them shut.

“Buddy, you’re making me nervous.” I lean in and rub his back. “What happened?”

A deep whoosh of breath leaves him as he looks at me again. “Amber broke up with me.”

As happy as those words should make me, because he deserves better than her, I hate seeing him this upset.

“She said she couldn’t handle me being more in love with you than I am with her.”

What the fuck?