Insta Crush
TALIA
Relief floods me as the three drunk assholes leave in a hurry.
I shudder at the thought of what those three wanted to do to me in exchange for much less than the hundred bucks they left on the table.
A part of me doesn’t even want to touch that money as it feels tainted. But beggars can’t be choosers. The owner will definitely take the money for the broken glasses out of my paycheck, and these days, I have to save every cent if I want to make it to graduation.
My favorite customer of the night—I know his name isn’t Beavis—is standing by my side. His blue eyes flit from me to the money.
Maybe he wants his cut since there’s no way those three would have left a hundred bucks if he hadn’t scared them to death.
It’s only fair, so I offer. “If you want half of that, you need to wait until I get the rest of the night’s tips, and I’ll give you your cut.”
His blue eyes widen and he shakes his head. “That was so not what I expected you to say to me.”
“No?” My curiosity is peaked about what he thought I was going to say.
“I thought you were about to yell at me for stepping in when you clearly had the situation under control.” His big, strong hand flies to the back of his neck, and he blushes again.
My pulse quickens just a little at the way his biceps bulge, straining against the sleeve of his shirt with the movement.
“What?” I gasp. “Absolutely not. Sure, I had the situation under control, but there’s no way to tell what those fuckers would have done if you hadn’t been here.”
The tension in his shoulders eases at my words. “Good. I just wanted to help because I hate when men behave a certain way just because they think they could easily overpower a woman. I promise it wasn’t a judgement on your ability to handle yourself. I’m actually quite impressed.”
I smile for the first time since the three drunk fuckers whistled to get my attention. “Really? You’re impressed?”
He smiles back, revealing perfect white teeth. I really like the way the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles.
“Really. I have a little sister, and I’ve been trying to teach her how to protect herself when I’m not there to kick ass and take names if someone acts like those three acted with you. I hope she’d react the way you just did. It was fucking awesome.”
Heat floods my face at the compliment. “Well, I grew up with four brothers. I had to learn how to make them respect me since they’re all bigger than me, even the younger ones.
I’m not a damsel, but I also know that there were three of them and just one of me.
None of my buff co-workers are on shift tonight, so I’m grateful for your help. ”
“Good.” He nods. “I didn’t want you to think I was dismissing you just because you’re a woman.”
“I didn’t. So do you want fifty bucks?” I ask, pointing at the money on the table.
He immediately turns down my offer. “Are you kidding? You earned that money and more. I wish I could have shaken down those asshats for more.”
With the money safely tucked in my pocket, there’s nothing more to do than clean the mess of broken glass on the floor.
My two colleagues who are still here are probably already cleaning in the back, so I better get on with it. I crouch down and begin to collect the broken glass. Hot Beavis begins to help me.
“Shit.” He cuts himself with a sharp shard.
Blood trickles down his long, strong fingers. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry.” I don’t even know why I’m apologizing. “Let me take a look. I hope you don’t need stitches. There’s quite a bit of blood.”
“Nah,” he doesn’t even flinch at the sight of his own blood. “It’s probably just cut a capillary. I’ve seen much worse, believe me.”
I wonder where he’s seen worse. He isn’t twenty-one yet, so he it’s very unlikely that he’s a trained medical professional.
By looking at him, I’d bet he’s into sports, and that’s probably where he’s gotten used to seeing blood.
The good news is that he can’t be a hockey player, or I would have seen him at camp. That’s assuming he goes to college.
Maybe he plays football? I could definitely imagine him in those tight pants football players wear. Or wait. Maybe he’s a fighter. I could totally see him as a boxer or an MMA fighter.
Just the idea of the blond hottie shirtless with sweat trickling down what I’m sure is a sculpted chest makes my pulse quicken.
“You ok?” he asks.
I realize that I’ve been holding his hand in mine, staring at his bleeding fingers for a beat too long.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Come with me; we need to take care of this cut. I’ll get one of my co-workers to finish cleaning up.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out. A few tissues will be enough.”
I rise to my feet but don’t let go of his hand, forcing him to get up too.
“No way. You cut yourself while you were helping me. Please let me take care of you. Sit.” I order as I lead him to the same bar stool he was occupying earlier.
“I’ll be two seconds. We have a first aid kit in the staff room in the back. Don’t you dare move.”
“Yes, ma’am.” That barely there smile dances on his lips again, and for a second, I forget what I was about to do.
Becker
The pretty bartender disappears behind a door in the back of the room.
I’m already missing her gentle touch, but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t notice how perfect her ass looks in the black denim shorts that are part of the staff’s uniform.
It’s the one thing those three motherfuckers were right about, I guess.
True to her word, she’s back shortly after with a red plastic case in her hands. A co-worker follows her out from the back area and stops by her side behind the bar.
“Are you sure you’re ok closing down and you don’t need anything else other than a little help with that broken glass?”
She shakes her head. “No, thanks, Maddie. I’ve got the rest.”
The slightly older woman smiles. “Ok, then. I’ll quickly get to that and then get going. I pulled a double shift and I’m beat.”
“Ok, let’s see what we’ve got here.”
She takes my hand and begins wiping away the blood with an antiseptic wipe.
Her touch is gentle but confident, and I’m enjoying this way too much. I should have cut myself hours ago.
As she discards the used wipe in a small trash can behind her, it dawns on me that I’m not ready to say goodbye. I don’t even know her name. And while I could come back here if I want to see her again, I just want more. I want to get to know this beautiful, fascinating woman.
“I’m all done here. I’m off. I’ll just dump this trash on my way out back. See you next weekend, Talia.” Her co-worker dashes out, but I’m no longer paying attention.
My hot bartender’s name is Talia.
Such a pretty name.
Talia opens a Band-Aid and applies it to the cut on my finger. “Here we go. I hope it doesn’t hurt too much. I don’t think you need stitches, but if it doesn’t heal properly or it gets infected, you should get it seen by a medical professional.”
I’m tempted to say that it does hurt and I need her to kiss it better, but I chicken out. I don’t want to push my luck and sound like a douche.
“Thank you, Talia.” I really like the sound of her name on my lips.
There’s a moment of silence, and it’s probably time for me to leave, but I don’t move.
“You’re welcome; it’s the least I could do.” She looks at me for a couple of seconds as if she were debating something. “Since you won’t take any money, I think I have another way to thank you.”
If she’s gonna kiss me to thank me, I swear I’ll never ask the universe for anything else ever again.
Of course there’s no way I’m that lucky. Talia turns around and pushes on the tips of her toes, attempting to reach the top shelf.
The way she jumps to reach what she wants is adorable, but before I can even think about what I’m about to do, my feet carry me behind her.
“Can I help?”
“I was trying to get the bottle of Don Julio. Can you help me?”
I don’t hesitate but step closer to reach above Talia’s head.
Truthfully, I’m tall enough to get it easily, but I step a lot closer than necessary. I don’t stop until my chest is flush with Talia’s back and she’s effectively trapped between my body and the shelf.
In hindsight, maybe this wasn’t a great idea because… damn. Talia’s body is toned and soft at the same time. She’s warm, and she smells incredible. Her blonde hair smells sweet and fruity, like watermelon and something else I can’t quite identify.
As I lean forward to grab the bottle of tequila, Talia’s ass is pressed against me and I have to hold my breath to keep things under control. Getting a boner right now would be too risky.
“Here,” I murmur, and she turns around so that we’re chest to chest.
“Thank you.”
Fuck, she’s so pretty. Her blue eyes have green flecks in them, and her lashes are long and full.
My eyes go down to her soft, pink lips, and I’m really, really tempted to lower my head and brush my lips against hers.
And usually that’s exactly what I would do. Many of my hookups have been initiated when I knew the other person even less than I do Talia.
But this is different. On my old campus, despite the shaky ground the hockey team had been left on last year, I was still more popular than average, even as a freshman. Women would offer even before I had to put in any effort more often than not.
The difference is that back then I didn’t care if I misread someone’s intentions. I would apologize and immediately back off, of course, but I wouldn’t lose sleep over being shot down because there were always more pretty girls willing to have some fun with me.
I really like Talia, though. I want to get to know her better, and I don’t want to fuck up before I even get the chance to really speak to her.
For some reason, she looks vaguely familiar, but if I had seen her before, I would remember her, right?
Her hands land on my chest and for a torturous second, I think that maybe she’s going to push on the tips of her toes again and kiss me.
She doesn’t. She takes the bottle from me. “You wanted some of this earlier.” She says softly, “Let’s have a drink. God knows I need one.”
That’s my cue to step away from her.
I immediately miss her warmth as I lean with my elbow against the bar, watching Talia pour some of the amber colored liquid into two short tumbler glasses.
“Ice?”
Good tequila doesn’t really need ice, but I nod anyway. Allowing my drink to cool down will buy me some extra time with her.
Our fingers touch when she hands me the glass, and I fight the urge to pull her closer.
Talia isn’t a bunny at one of those parties my teammates threw after home games. She’s been friendly, but it might be because it’s literally her job to be nice to customers.
I don’t want to do anything to offend her until I know for sure if the attraction I feel is mutual.
“Cheers.” She clinks her glass to mine, and we both take a sip.
This isn’t the kind of tequila you do shots with.
“Thank you for this.” I lift the glass to my lips again. “I thought you weren’t going to serve me.”
There’s a little bit of mischief in her blue eyes. “Yeah, I wasn’t going to serve Beavis. But since we’re closed, and we both know that Beavis isn’t your name, I think it’s ok. Just don’t tell anyone, though.”
“You got it.” I lower my voice. “It’ll be our little secret.”
We drink quietly for a few moments, but it isn’t uncomfortable. Not having to fill every second with words makes me like Talia even more.
“So, what is it?” She asks when there’s just one sip of tequila left in her glass.
“Huh?” I shake my head, confused and a little drunk. Not on the tequila, but on the blue depths of her gaze.
I take another small sip, determined to drink slowly and make this moment last. Once our glasses are empty, I’m afraid that Talia will throw me out of the bar.
“Your name.” She clarifies. “Since we know it isn’t Beavis, what is it?”
“Becks.” I offer.
Talia whispers it as if she were trying it out, taking a small taste of it before she fully committed to saying it out loud.
“Becks.”
Fuck. I don’t think I’ve ever liked the sound of my name so much before. I want to hear her say it again. Possibly with her in my arms while I kiss my way down her neck and my hands explore her perfect body.
I’m dying to touch her, but I’ve never been so scared of being rejected.
“Ok.” Talia sighs, emptying her glass. “Time to go and shut this place down for the night. I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow.”
She takes my glass from me and washes it at a small sink built under the bar.
“Let me walk you out, Becks.”