8. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Reeve
I watch in fascination as her tongue peeks out between her lips. Her gaze roams over my body, leaving a heated trail across my skin and goosebumps pebbling my arms.
No longer listening to Milo as he quietly goes over the information about our next shipment, I focus on her eyes. They gradually move up to my face, and when they connect with mine, my jaw clenches.
I wait for her reaction to finding me staring at her, but she seems unfazed.
We watch each other for what feels like minutes—when realistically, it's probably only been a few seconds—before she spins around, facing away from me.
She intrigues me, and I'm still unsure as to why.
Her head tilts back as she laughs at something Luxe says, and my teeth grind in annoyance.
He's been buzzing around her like a fly on shit ever since she got here, and although I know he's harmless and is probably just trying to be nice, it's aggravating me.
"The vein in your neck looks like it's going to burst through your skin," Milo says, nudging me with his arm.
Ignoring him, I continue watching her, as I have done ever since I saw her out the window this morning, jogging toward the clubhouse.
She starts cleaning a glass as Luxe makes his way around the bar, then sits on one of the stools.
"When Liam asked you to keep an eye on her, I don't think he meant it as literally as you seem to be taking it."
"Shut up," I grumble, turning to glare at him. "I just don't understand why Luxe is already plastered to her side."
Milo shrugs, glancing at the pair.
"He's not really plastered to her side, is he?"
I roll my eyes and sigh. Flicking my gaze back to the redhead, she grabs another glass, then nods at Luxe.
"Maybe he's paying her attention because he finds her attractive."
I'm not sure if Milo's trying to get under my skin, or if that's his true understanding of what's happening, but his words have my fists clenching in my lap.
"Luxe, get over here!"
My voice seems to echo throughout the room, and everyone glances in my direction before their eyes dart over to the man I shouted at.
He taps his knuckles on the wooden bar, says something else to Trix, then makes his way over to our booth.
"What's up?" he asks, sliding onto the leather bench opposite me.
"What are you doing?"
He frowns and looks at Milo, who shrugs in response.
"Uh, I'm sitting in the booth across from you, wondering why you called me over here."
My eyes narrow. "Do you think I'm in the mood for your stupid snarky responses?"
He blows out a breath and leans back in his seat.
"Man, I don't know what's crawled up your ass this morning. You asked me what I was doing, so I told you."
"I don't mean right this second," I hiss, shaking my head. "What I mean is—what were you doing at the bar with her?"
He glances over his shoulder. His lips pull up into a smile when his eyes land on Trix, who's currently twisting bottles around and reading their labels.
"I was just talking to her," he says, facing me again. "It's her first day, and I was trying to be welcoming… what's the issue?"
"Yeah, Reeve. What's the issue?" Milo chimes in, a smug smirk on his face.
Glancing between my friends, then over to the woman behind the bar, I shrug.
"I don't like that she's here," I tell them. "I feel like she's hiding something."
"Maybe she is," Milo says. "But I don't think that's got anything to do with us."
"It's her first day. She's been here for all of ten minutes," Luxe adds. "I know you hate trusting people but give her a chance. I like her, and I think she'd fit in well here once she's gotten to know everyone. Besides, you haven't even spoken to her, so you can't really form a judgement."
"I don't need to speak to her."
"More like you don't want to," Luxe mumbles.
Milo laughs.
Truth be told, I do want to talk to her, and that's what worries me.
"Leave him alone. Anyway, he's getting better at talking to people."
Luxe cocks a brow, then whirls around.
"Hey, Chad, come here," he shouts.
"Why the fuck are you calling the prospect over?"
Ignoring me, he waits for the cocky, blond asshole sauntering over to our table.
"Since you've been a prospect, has Reeve ever spoken to you?"
Chad glances at me, then back to Luxe, then shakes his head.
"Thanks. You can go now."
Waiting for Chad to walk away, I glare at the man across from me.
"That doesn't prove anything."
"Okay, then maybe this will," he says, kneeling on the leather bench beneath him and twisting his body so he's leaning over the back of it. "Hey, Slate."
I grumble when Slate turns around, his steely eyes swiping over the three of us before settling on the idiot who's trying to prove a point.
"How often does Reeve speak to you?"
Slate snickers, smoothing a hand over his dark, slicked back hair as his eyes move back to meet mine.
"Couldn't give you an exact number, but it's only when he needs to," he says. "He'll usually just stand there watching everything, then say something to Milo instead of speaking to us directly."
"Thank you!"
Luxe sits back down, a triumphant grin on his face.
"My point stands. You don't like talking to people or getting to know them. I understand why because of your previous circumstances, but that means you don't get to judge people and decide you don't like them."
"It's not that I don't like her," I mutter, my eyes moving back to the woman pouring a drink for Munch. "I just don't trust her."
"Well, what did Liam tell you about her?" Milo asks.
I sigh, thinking back to my conversation with Liam.
"Not a lot. He was annoyingly vague. Just told me she was going through a rough patch, needed a job, and to keep an eye on her because if she's in trouble, she'd probably hide it from him."
Luxe frowns.
"In trouble, how?"
I shrug.
"No idea, but that's why I'm suspicious of her. We don't need her bringing trouble here. We already have enough of that."
"Well, don't be a grumpy old bear while I'm getting to know her then, and we may actually be able to get some information."
"We're the same age, you asshole."
"You act like a grouchy grandpa, so it still stands," he says, quickly ducking out of the booth with a smirk.