Chapter 8 Bunny
eight
Bunny
My next two shifts at the casino remain almost the same despite my relationship with Smoke evolving into something much deeper.
I'm starting to understand why he was struggling so much to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. Now that we're dating, actually dating, my feelings for him have only grown. Not just some impossible crush, my heart is always full.
Without trying, while I'm on the floor, I'm looking for him. He's been better at drifting around, covering more ground. Despite the distraction, the goal is still the same.
He's got to figure out who fucked with his bike. Even though I haven't received any unwanted love letters or flowers since that one dreadful day, he refuses to lower his guard. Refuses to believe the problem is gone because of what is happening between us.
It's hard to worry about someone else watching me when I'm on cloud nine like this.
Even if Smoke wants to act like he's completely focused on the task at hand, he's as bad as I am.
Every now and then, he'll have a moment of weakness where we'll come across each other, and if my hands are empty, he'll grab my elbow and drag me off somewhere.
All under the guise of needing to be coached about something, though, I'm sure none of our spectators know that he's part of the crew in charge of the place.
It's becoming a problem with how often it happens. A good problem, but a distracting one.
Even now, crowding me against a corner where he insists is a blind spot, my heart is melting on the spot. It makes turning him down so much harder than it needs to be. Especially when all I want to do is kiss him.
"Smoke..." Breathing out a laugh, I cover his mouth with my fingers before he can make it impossible to think. "I'm supposed to be working. You're supposed to be focusing."
Scowling behind my fingers, his brows bundle together. It's the closest look of a pout I've seen on this man. If I didn't stop him now, I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't see the problems this could raise.
"Can't you take a break?" Grumbling the words, his breath tickles my fingers.
"With how many times I've been stolen away like this?" Letting out a laugh, I drop my hand away. "Not a chance. It wouldn't be fair to the others if I stepped away. Especially when we both know you'll keep me away for more than fifteen minutes."
Despite only kissing since that intimate moment shared between us, I'm sure this man would be able to turn one kiss into many.
It takes strength to step back away from him instead of rubbing against his chest. Even more when he reaches out for me like he already misses my presence.
"How about this? Stay focused for the next couple of hours, and when I'm off..." Biting my lip, I take one more step back. "You can show me your place? Maybe I can sleep over."
Even if I work tomorrow, I already like the idea too much now that it's in the air. Surely, with how much time he spends here, he must live close by. It'll save time on his travels, too. With so many perks, I doubt it'll take much convincing.
Smoke groans softly like he's already picturing it. When it's just us two, we won't be held back to only dancing around each other like this.
Maybe we could go even further than where we left off all those days ago? My thighs are brushing together just thinking about it.
Running a hand down his face, he nods slowly, accepting my offer. "I can't make any promises, but I'll try."
Knowing how fun it would be to kiss him on that flushed cheek, I try not to torture him more than I already am. Instead, I spin on my heel and shoot a look over my shoulder.
"Play a game or two every now and then. It'll make the day go by faster." Giving him a wink, I wish I could do the very same thing myself. Not to place a bet in particular, but do something so the end of my shift could be here.
Giving him a sweet goodbye, I leave him to get back to work.
Every drink I serve is time passing by. If I can swoop around tables and dance around gamblers without any more distractions, the end will be here in no time.
Keeping my focus on constantly moving, I hit the bar in a blur every time. Every time I appear, I earn myself little chuckles of amusement from the bartenders as they take in my flushed state.
I can tell them that it's an excuse to get more tips. After all, that's always been my motivation for this job. They'd understand where I'm coming from.
Michelle takes one look at my flushed state and smiles softly as I shoot off the three drinks I need.
"I'm going to throw in a glass of water for you, too." She grabs it first before starting any of the others. "Better be staying hydrated if you're running around like you've got your head cut off."
Thanking her as I guzzle the drink down, I only manage to cool the heat flooding my system slightly.
It doesn't take her long to fill up three tall glasses of beer before she's placing them on my tray and taking back my empty glass in return.
"Make sure to take a breather in between orders." Ready to scold me, I take the cue to hurry along before she forces me to take a seat at the bar next.
"I'll be back in no time." Putting my smile back into place, I get a rare chuckle from her before twisting around with the tray.
A gasp suddenly fills the air, and I'm not sure if it's from my lips or Rue's. I'm too distracted by the sound of glass shattering and the splash of liquid against my chest. Immediately, the smell of beer hits me in a heavy wave, and I have to fight the urge to gag.
Despite serving the drinks, I've never been a fan of them. Consuming or wearing them.
"Oh my!" Flustered, Rue fights between checking on me and picking up the broken glasses on the floor.
Thankfully, Michelle, on the other side of the bar, instantly tells her not to touch the glass.
With that, she's shifting her hands like she doesn't know where to put them to help.
"Bunny, I'm sorry. I was mid-conversation and. .. I'm so sorry."
Hitting me with too many apologies at once, my smile remains in place to reassure her that I'm fine. Been working here long enough to know accidents happen.
"It's alright, love." Giving her hands a small squeeze, I look down at myself and grimace at my corset. It's going to take a minute to undo it and dry it thoroughly.
Michelle is quick with a broom and a dustpan, making the mess beneath us disappear like it never happened. Rue insists on helping clean up the liquid collecting at our feet, all while muttering more of the apologies.
No wonder why she's so popular with our gamblers. Those flushed ears and cheeks are adorable.
Once I can step over without tracking any liquid, I excuse myself to dry off before my skin gets sticky. With hours still left on my shift, the last thing I need is a rash on my chest. Nothing sexy about that.
Hitting the back section of the casino and slipping inside of the changing room, I'm already fumbling with the strings. The corset does magic for my breasts, but it's always the biggest pain in my ass to get on and off.
By the time I stop, I'm in the wash area of the room. There's usually always a woman or two hunched over the sink, perfecting their makeup or adjusting their work outfit.
Thankfully, no one is around to watch me get out of this deathtrap of a device. They'd see me flushed and sweaty, getting the wrong idea in their head.
Once it's off and beneath the stream of water, I'm grimacing at the front of my dress. The fabric is damp all the way to my stomach. Plucking it back, my smile slips away when I see my bra is splotchy.
I'm not about to get naked in here for some comfort. Papertowels will have to do then.
Muttering a curse under my breath, out of pure frustration of it happening, I barely hear it beneath the rush of water. A scruff of shoes steeping.
It's a locker room of all places, so it wouldn't be surprising if anyone else has come in, but there's something about the silence that follows after that that has the hairs on my arms lifting. Shutting off the water, I stand a little taller.
"Rue?" Maybe she came back to check up on me, or hell, to apologize a thousand times more. At the silence that follows, my stomach clenches. "Smoke?"
I hate the feeling of fear. It's the unknown of it that claws at my lungs, making it hard to breathe. This could be nothing but my imagination playing tricks on me.
Smoke's been filling up my mind as of late. Every day that passed, I thought less and less of my stalker. Without realizing it, I've lowered my guard. Forgotten about the importance of not ever being alone.
"Even now, you call for him. Bunny." There's a sudden groan from the doorway before fingers appear, wrapping around the arch. Another thudded step before I see him.
Not Smoke. Not someone from the security team.
"Reuben?"
I can't keep the confusion from my voice. After all, this is a worker I haven't even spoken to. Not really. Maybe in passing at most. A dealer out of all people? Sure, I may have stopped by his tables to deliver drinks, but I've never...
He doesn't approach me, thank God. But he does step into the smaller space before leaning against the arch, blocking the exit with his legs.
Getting past him without being touched will be impossible. Just my luck, the only protection I keep on me is tucked in the pocket of my jeans.
"I heard the commotion. Came to check on you." He tilts his head. His eyes dip to take in the state of my chest. I don’t miss the way they linger.
Despite being used to it, I’ve never felt more disgusted than I do now. Looks like he’s just like the rest of them. I find myself clutching at the wet fabric, attempting to pull it up to hide myself better.
Stay calm, Bunny. The sooner you freak out, the sooner he'll react.
"This is the woman's room, sugar. There could've been people changing." My voice wavers. I hate that.
He tears his eyes away to look into the locker room. A small smile curls on his lips. "But there isn't. I wouldn't have come in if there were."