Page 7 of A Major Puck Up

Her face softens, and she might even be blushing under the praise. Like maybe she isn’t used to being complimented for her talent. So far, she’s been bold, confident. She’s comfortable in the revealing dress, like she knows exactly what she’s working with. But when it comes to her ability to sing and entertain a crowd with her piano playing, she’s suddenly shy.

And damn if the juxtaposition isn’t intriguing.

“Thank you.”

“Will you stay?” I ask, because damn, do I want her to. I’m not ready for her to walk away. “Help me find what I like?”

She watches me with a thoughtfulness so profound it’s hard to comprehend. Like she sees something in me, understands me in a way I don’t even understand myself. She’s an old soul. That much is clear. I’m afraid that if she looks too closely, she’ll realize I’m shallow and have nothing to offer, that if she sees the real me, she’ll pull back and say good night.

So I’m pleasantly surprised when she instead settles back on her stool and motions to the menu that’s been placed in front of me. “Well, what are we trying?”

THREE

GAVIN

“How do you feel about tequila?”

“Makes my clothes fall off, but I’m not opposed,” I tease.

She grins and taps her lip as if she’s trying to decide whether that’s a good thing. “Eh, what the hell. Mikey, give us two shots of Jose.”

I scoff. “Mikey, top shelf, please.”

She giggles. “So bougie. Okay, tell me something else about you.”

“How come you keep getting things out of me but you still won’t give me your name?”

She shrugs one shoulder and tilts her head to the side in this cute little way, like she knows I’m obsessed and enjoying myself.

“Um,” I say, because, of course, I can’t deny her. “I have three brothers.”

“Oh, are they hot?”

“Not as hot as me.”

She giggles. “That’s what everyone says.”

“Is that what you’d say about your siblings?”

She bumps her shoulder against mine. “I see what you’re doing. Trying to get me to divulge personal details.”

I laugh. “Of course. You’ve given me nothing so far.”

“And yet I have a feeling you’ll take everything,” she sings softly, a gorgeous smile lighting up her face.

When Mikey places two shots in front of us, I scan the surface of the bar. “No lime?”

“Aw, you need a chaser, do ya?” she teases.

With a sigh, I clink my shot glass against hers and then, without looking away from the vixen by my side, I toss it back.

It burns on the way down, enough to make me wince, but her expression remains neutral, so I school mine too.

“What do you think? Tequila your drink?”

I cough out a laugh. “Fuck no.”

“Ready to go back to whiskey and admit that you’re just a whiskey guy?”

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