Page 4 of Something that Could Last

I find my pen and make my way to table six to take Mr. Morrison's order. Once I get him settled in, I make the rounds to the rest of my tables, refilling drinks and handing out extra napkins. The dining area and bar fill up quickly. Rosie's is a pretty happenin’ place on a Saturday night, and tonight is no exception. The first couple hours of my shift go by quickly with little variation from every other Saturday night. Lots of draft beers, baskets of onion rings, and hot wings. I’m dropping off a tray full of Bud Lights when I notice our hostess, Sarah, smiling wickedly at me as she heads back to her post by the front entrance.

“What are you up to now?” I ask skeptically as she approaches.

“O. M. G.” she spells out. “Wait until you see the two hotties I just sat at table nine!” She sighs dramatically and fans herself, feigning dizziness.

“I should've known,” I chuckle at her as I return my tray and head towards the booth designated table nine. It's kind of sweet how she gets all flustered around guys. She’s young, barely eighteen, and still shy around the opposite sex.

I pull my pen and pad from my apron as I approach, my gaze focused on finding a blank sheet. “Hi, welcome to Rosie's,” I begin automatically. “What can I get-” I inhale sharply and his eyes snap up to meet mine.It’s him!In the elevated booth, he’s as tall seated as I am standing. Up close, his piercing blue gaze nearly undoes me.Get it together, Abby.“...Um... get you to drink?” I manage to squeak out. I clear my throat and repeat my question, this time more composed. “What can I get you to drink?”

A slow smile spreads across his face. “Two Heinekens, please.” My knees buckle at the sound of his voice. It’s even sexier than I remember. Deep and warm, smooth like a Kentucky bourbon. My ability to form coherent thoughts melts right into the floor, along with my panties. My mouth opens to form a response when Luke takes the seat across from him. I was right earlier. Theyarefriends.

“I damn near pissed myself waiting in line for the bathroom,” he complains before his eyes spark with recognition. “Oh, hey... uh, Abby, right?”

“That’s me.” I smile nervously, trying to hide my cringe at the high-pitched sound of my voice.

“You'll have to excuse my friend. He has absolutely no manners.” He shoots Luke a dirty look across the table.

“Fuck you, douche. I have manners coming out my ass,” Luke retorts.

The gorgeous stranger huffs out a singular laugh and shakes his head, resigning himself to the fact that his best friend is a heathen. He gives me an apologetic smile. “I'm Jacob.”

“Abby.” I hope he can't hear the shakiness in my voice when I introduce myself.

“Nice to meet you, Abby.” He offers me his hand and I press my palm into his. Heat spreads up my arm and into my chest, settling low in my belly. Just from a simple handshake. Imagine what those hands would feel like on the rest of my body.

“Hey, you never mentioned you worked here when you recommended this place.” Luke’s tone is playfully accusatory.

“You didn't ask,” I answer with a shrug.

Jacob chuckles, a deep, throaty sound almost as alluring as his speaking voice. “Sothat'swhy you insisted on coming here.”

“Yeah.”

Jacob scowls at his unapologetic response, annoyance flashing in his eyes.

“So, two Heinekens? Can I get you anything else, or do you need a minute to look at the menu?” I interrupt, trying to ease the mounting tension growing between them. Luke came here hoping to run into me, and from the tight set of Jacob’s jaw, I’m guessing he’s none too pleased about that. I would never want to cause a rift between two friends, but Jacob’s seemingly jealous reaction sends a little thrill down my spine. Even though I know it's a little silly, I kind of like it.

“We need a few minutes,” Jacob replies, opening his menu.

“Okay, I'll be back with your drinks.”

I put in their drink order and Ros hands me two open bottles. On my way back to their table, Tiff accosts me, pulling me in close by my elbow.

“Who are those two guys?” she asks, nodding towards their booth, her eyes dancing with intrigue. “Do you know them?”

“Not really,” I answer, my eyes drifting toward them. “They went zip-lining earlier.” She looks at me expectantly as if waiting for more information. I don’t know what else she wants me to say.

She rolls her eyes and huffs. “Well, what are their names?”

I tell her, hoping she can’t hear the quiver in my voice when I say Jacob’s name. “Think you could introduce me to this Luke guy? He looks absolutely delectable.” She eyes him lustfully from across the crowded restaurant, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“You are so bad,” I exclaim.

“Yes, I am,” she admits unabashedly, her head held high. She has no qualms about being a man-eater.

I head back to their table, a beer in each hand, praying I don't trip or say something stupid or have a booger hanging out of my nose.Oh, no!Just thinking that last part makes me a little panicky, so I retrace my steps back to the bar, lean over the lacquered wooden top, and check my reflection in the mirror lining the back wall. I inspect my nose and smile, making sure there’s nothing stuck in my teeth, either. I hastily smooth my hands over my hair and reapply my lip gloss before returning to their table.

Jacob

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