Chapter 6
Kaz
Twenty-two years old
“What am I going to do without you?” Lydia whines as she grabs the tray of shots I just poured. I roll my eyes at her and laugh.
“We literally live together. You're still going to see me every day.”
She sighs out loud. “Ya until you decide you want to hang out with all the rich lawyers you work for. Won’t be long before a sugar daddy comes along and snatches you up. Before you know it, you will be living in his penthouse suite and wiping your ass with one hundred-dollar bills.”
“Okay, calm down. This isn’t Pretty Woman .” I pour a shot of vodka and slide it towards her. “My job description is HR. It’s nothing to write home about. I doubt anyone is going to want to take home the Human Resources lady. Also, how dare you think I would shit on a one hundred-dollar bill.” I reply with my hand on my hip. She giggles before taking her shot while holding her tray in her other hand. She walks away, sashaying her hips back and forth as she goes. I wipe down the bar top and start cleaning up a couple of glasses customers have left. I’m going to miss this when I start work at Bolt Corporation on Monday. I contemplated bartending on the weekends for the extra money, but I’m not sure I can swing that if I decide to start taking classes again. To the world, I already have a bachelor’s in business administration. Nobody knows I have barely completed my third year except my best friend, Ben, from back home. While I didn’t defer for a year, I did have to take fewer classes to keep up with bills and life in general. I feel a whirlwind of emotions stir inside. It's been a couple weeks since I’ve spoken to him and we never go that long between calls. I make a mental note to call him this week to catch up.
A piece of hair falls in my face and I brush it back behind my ear while I lean over, attempting to grab another glass off the bar top. My senses prickle, causing me to look up. My gaze connects with a set of bright blue eyes from across the bar. ‘ Holy hell, ’ I think as I peruse the fine specimen who is currently sitting on a barstool with a few other guys who are bantering back and forth. He is leaning casually against the back of the stool with one leg up slightly on the footrest. The other leg is stretched out with his foot on the ground. He’s got his elbow on the table and his jaw resting on his fist, just watching me. His brown hair with a slight curl hangs just above his eyes. His entire demeanor is screaming dangerous. A crisp white T-shirt and pressed jeans, I’m sure are worth more than my car, finish his look. He’s even got a tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve. Yummy. If I could choose my type, this man would be it. Am I fucking drooling right now? Yes, yes I am. He smirks at me and my eyes widen before I look away quickly. I totally just got caught checking that man out. I suddenly feel insecure as I turn away from the bar and pretend to organize the liquor behind me. Why was he staring at me? I look down at my ripped jeans and black crop top, searching for a stain. When I see nothing, I whip out a small compact from my clutch and proceed to search my face for any imperfections. Running mascara, smudged lipstick, a huge zit? Nope, nothing. I roll my eyes at myself before slipping the compact back where it belongs. The guy was probably trying to get my attention for a drink or something and I’m over here ogling him like he’s a fucking zoo animal. Get it together Kaz, you can’t make tips if you scare away all the customers. I was trying not to drink on the job tonight since I like to make very bad decisions when alcohol is involved, but clearly, I’m in need of a warmup. I grab a bottle of whiskey and pour a quick shot. The glass hits the tip of my lips as I turn to face the bar and I freeze. Bright blue eyes burn into mine.
“Any chance you can make me one?” his voice comes out smooth as he leans against the bar. I look up at him and try to gauge his height. He’s got to be at least 6’3. He’s long and lean, but I can see the way his muscles strain against his shirt. Jesus, he would destroy me. My pussy flutters at that thought. Down, girl.
“I’m sorry what?” I ask him as I shake myself out of my stupor.
He smiles, putting his pearly white teeth on display, and leans over the bar.
“Any chance you can make me a shot too, Pretty Girl?”
“A shot? Oh, umm sure,” I stutter out as I set my full shot down without drinking it. “What are you drinking tonight?”
“Whatever you're having," he replies, eyeing my drink.
‘ Shit ’, I think to myself. I’m really not supposed to drink with the customers. I look around the bar. Fuck it. The boss is off tonight anyway and Lydia is closing down with me. It will be fine.
“Jameson okay?” I ask him.
His eyes flash for a second, and he chuckles to himself before responding. “That sounds great.”
I pour his shot and slide it towards him while grabbing mine.
“Thanks, Pretty Girl," he says as he clinks his glass against mine and we both down our shots. He slides a fifty dollar bill towards me. “Keep the change.” His friends call over to him, causing him to nod his head at me before making his way back over to their table. I watch him walk away before looking around and realizing how busy the bar has gotten tonight. Lydia comes over to the bar with another order.
“Holy shit, it just got busy in here," she follows my gaze over to the table I’m staring at and smiles. “They are fucking delicious, huh?”
“Who are they?” I ask her, looking away quickly so he doesn’t catch me staring again.
“No clue." She shrugs. “Whoever they are, they have money. I’ve made two hundred dollars off that table already in tips. I hope they stay all night.” She pushes the tray towards me. “Another round. Make them strong.”
I laugh at her. “Are you trying to get them completely wasted so they keep tipping?”
“Fuck, Kaz. I’m hoping they are so wasted, they decide to take me home and move me in with them.”
We both giggle at that admission. She’s not wrong. They all look like they are made of money and dipped in gold. They definitely don’t look like they belong in our shitty little dive bar, that’s for sure. I look over before looking away when I catch him staring at me again. I’m usually not nervous, but the way he keeps staring at me like he might devour me is making me weak in the knees.
A few too many shots and a couple hours later, Lydia comes up to the bar with her tray and slides a napkin towards me.
“What’s this?” I ask as she stares at it with a wide smile.
“Your sexy admirer over there asked me to give it to you.”
I look over her shoulder and catch him staring again while his finger runs around the edge of his drinking glass.
“Earth to Kaz," she says, snapping her fingers in my face. “Open it before I die of anticipation.”
I unwrap the napkin and stare at the four words written. Come home with me . I don’t know whether to be excited that this perfect god of a man wants me or annoyed that he has the audacity to assume I will just go home with anyone from the bar. I crumple the napkin and toss it into the trash.
“I think you should do it,” Lydia says giddily. “When was the last time you got laid anyway, Kaz? Please don’t tell me it was Kevin. It’s been like seven months.”
“Actually nine, but who’s counting?” I laugh out loud.
“Fuck, you’re practically a virgin again!” She screams, causing me to cover her mouth with my hand. Thankfully, the bar is busy and the music is loud, so nobody hears. I take another shot as she stares at me, waiting for my answer. The warmth spreads down into my belly, turning hot as lava when I connect my eyes with his again.
“Fuck it,” I say to her as I nod my head yes towards him. “I’m probably never going to see him again, anyway. What’s one night of hopefully phenomenal sex?”
Lydia squeals before clapping her hands together. “I already have your location. If he gets crazy and gives serial killer vibes, just send me an SOS and I'll send the police. I require every single detail in the morning!”
I wrinkle my nose at her. “If he’s a serial killer, I’ll be dead before the cops get there, Lydia. But I appreciate the sentiment.” She laughs before walking away.
‘ If he knows what’s good for him ,’ I think to myself, ‘ he won’t try to slice me into pieces tonight.’