Page 19 of Late Nights

“I’m not insinuating I don’t know how good looking I am,” I said, leaning my forearms on the counter. “But I didn’t know you had such high opinions about my looks.”

Despite the dim lighting in the bar, I could still make out the tint of pink on her cheeks. “Almost every woman in this bar is looking at you like you’re a prime rib steak. It’s not like I’m the only one.”

“Maybe, but I don’t care about any of them.”

Crap. Why was I flirting with her?

I could use the excuse that I flirt with everyone but that wasn’t why I was flirting with her. I wanted to. I liked seeing her blush. I wanted to see if she had any of the same feelings for me that I had for her. The feelings swirling around in me, requiring serious will power to keep them tamped down.

She paused drying the glasses, her eyes snapping up to meet mine in surprise.

Double crap.

I really shouldn’t have said what I did. It was the truth, but it wasn’t going to help our situation.

Whatever tension this was, I needed to get us out of it quickly.

“How is your first shift going?” I asked, hoping my question was enough to dissipate the charged moment between us.

“It’s been good so far,” she said, going back to drying the remaining glasses. “The studying I put in has helped a lot. And no one has seemed annoyed that I take longer to make drinks than Robby does.”

Probably because they didn’t mind watching her in that outfit while they waited.

“That’s good.”

She placed the last glass on the counter. “I’m going to go see what else Robby wants me to do. But can you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Can you at least wait until after the guys give me my tip before making up some lame excuse to get them to leave me alone?” she demanded.

“If you can do me a favor as well,” I countered.

She crossed her arms. “And what’s that?”

“No more leaning over the counter.” I glanced pointedly at her chest for a brief second.

Her eyes widened. “You saw that?”

Not as much as I wanted to, but I didn’t say that. “Yes.”

Her face flushed, and her body went rigid. “West put you up to this, huh? He wants you to babysit me,” she accused. “Well, news flash. I’m all grown up, and I don’t need someone to babysit me at work. So you can tell West to stop worrying.”

“As we’ve previously discussed, I know you’re all grown up. That’s exactly why I’m not thrilled about all the attention you’re getting,” I said, matching her tone.

“You’re not thrilled? What do you care? You’re the one who told me about this job in the first place,” she exclaimed.

Triple crap. I kept digging myself into a hole.

“If West cares, then I care,” I said, pulling on a partial truth to help hide my true feelings. “Is it so awful that I want to make sure you’re safe? Isn’t that what friends are for?”

“Friends?” she mocked, her laughter completely lacking in humor. “Friends don’t stay out late, who knows where, to avoid coming home so they don’t have to see their roommate.”

She was apparently taking a personal offense at my staying out late. She thought it was because I didn’t want to be around her, but it was actually because I did want to be around her. I wanted to stay up late on the couch with her feet in my lap while we talked about anything and nothing. The truth was, I was scared to be home alone with her. Afraid I’d let her in. Afraid my feelings for her would grow a hundredfold, and then I’d been in a real mess.

“Friends don’t give each other curfews,” I threw at her, trying to get the attention off of me.

“Friends actually talk to each other,” she countered.

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