Jax raised his brows as he grinned. “Well, it’s about damn time.”
My mouth dropped open. What the what on a monkey butt?
Reece nodded as he picked up his glass, eyeing me over the rim. There was that glint again, mischievous and boyish. “Truer words have never been spoken.”
For once in my life, I was absolutely flabbergasted, which seemed to work for everyone, because between fulfilling drink orders, Jax and Reece chatted it up. I bounced from customer to customer, excited and nervous and hopeful and a thousand other things.
He was going home with me.
I was okay with this.
I was also freaked out about this and what it meant. As I mixed drinks like a bartending ninja, I tried to remember if I shaved my legs that morning. Or if I’d have time to do a quick touch-up in other areas. These were pressing concerns, because that’s why he had to be coming home with me, right? It wasn’t to knit a blanket at three in the morning.
Handing over a cocktail to a girl I’d seen in the bar a few times, I stole a quick glance at Reece. His head was bowed and in his hand was his cell phone. My heart stuttered in my chest as it suddenly became hard to swallow. I was totally willing to hook up with him. I mean, I’d wanted to before and this was what people our age did, and I’d moved on from what happened that night between us. Just thinking about being with him caused parts of my body to tighten and my breath to shorten. I’d wanted Reece since I first saw him, when I was fifteen.
Except this would be the first time with him for me, and it would be the second time with me for him, and something was just so wrong about that.
Plus, was I going to be satisfied with hooking up with Reece and nothing more? I ... I wasn’t sure. And that was scary. Not because he might not want something more, but because he might, and I didn’t know if I could handle that.
I focused on getting drinks out to combat the ball of dread building in the pit of my stomach. There was a lot floating around in my head and if I didn’t clear it out, I’d be a mess by the time I got off.
When I neared Reece and Jax again, the latter stopped me. “I want you to hear this, too.”
Confused, I propped my elbows on the bar as I stood next to Jax. “Okay?”
Bright blues eyes fixed on mine. When Reece spoke, his voice was low enough for just us to hear. “I was just telling Jax about the call that came in this week over in Huntington Valley. I know you aren’t watching the news, so you probably haven’t heard about it.”
“Hey, I watch the news,” I defended myself, but as a bland look crossed his striking face, I sighed. “Okay, well I don’t always listen to it.”
Jax shook his head. “I hadn’t heard it either. Been busy and haven’t been paying attention to the news, but Reece told me that another girl was attacked.”
I pressed my hand against my chest. “Oh God. Is ... is she okay?”
Reece pursed his lips. “As okay as I guess she could be. She was roughed up and then tied up. From what I heard, the ordeal went on for hours before the guy simply left the vic. Her boyfriend ended up finding her and calling it in. She didn’t get a good look at the guy, but they’re thinking it’s connected to the case in Prussia.”
“So you aren’t stepping foot outside this bar alone,” Jax stated. “Neither is Calla when she’s here.”
I shivered as I nodded. God, the idea that someone could be out there stalking girls was more than just creepy. It was horrifying.
“Hell, I think I’m going to take Calla to the shooting range. Get her permitted.”
Reece took a drink. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” His gaze flipped to me. “I think you should consider that.”
“Me? With a gun?” I laughed at the absurdity of it. “I’d end up accidentally shooting myself or some poor, innocent sap. Me and guns do not mix.”
He reached over, capturing my hand. He tugged me forward, so that my hips were pressed against the bar. His eyes met mine again, and I totally forgot Jax was standing right there. “I want you safe,” he said, his thumb sweeping the inside of my palm and doing funny things to my belly. “And I want you to at least seriously consider protecting yourself. Okay?”
Reece held on until I nodded and then I ambled off to the other side of the bar in a daze. A little after midnight, some college-aged guy approached the bar. His smile a little too wide, his step a little too wobbly, he leaned against the bar next to Reece. Immediately, I knew the guy was so not getting another drink. I had no problem cutting off people who were stumbling.
“Hey, baby, you are looking so damn ... cute,” the guy slurred, blinking slowly as he weaved unsteadily. “Yeah, your glasses. Hot. Like a dirty ...”
I raised my brow as I waited.
“Yeah, dirty girl,” he finished with a laugh. “I bet you are, too.”
Working in a bar, I’ve heard some stupid pickups, which were usually met with polite disinterest, but that was gross. My mouth opened to deliver a well-placed verbal put-down when Reece swiveled on his chair and made eye contact with the guy. Cop Face was back. Except the stern, hard jaw and glinting blue eyes were not directed at me.
“Apologize,” he ordered.