Page 19 of Bitter Beats

I drop my purse on the kitchen island.

“Where the fuck have you been all night?”

I gasp and spin around, my hand clutching my heart, when I see Mav standing in the doorframe. He looks sexy in a rumpled, just woke-up way.

He also looks pissed. His jawline is hard enough to cut glass, and his eyes are narrowed into slits. Sleep hugs the lines of his face, but the intensity of his gaze is powerful. All-consuming.

My heart rate jumps, and a thrill runs down my spine. I shake my head at my strange reaction. I must be more tired than I thought. I must be hallucinating.

I close my eyes. I don’t have the energy for this.

Instead, I focus on tugging down the zipper of my coat. I manage to shrug out of it and leave it on a barstool.

“Where you been, Mckenna?” he asks again, stepping into the kitchen. His voice is dark and rumbly, sending a shiver over my skin.

Recalling all his wild, loud, annoying sex with a revolving door of gorgeous women, my momentary attraction withers. I spit back, “None of your fucking business.”

He rears back in surprise. “Are you still drunk?”

I laugh. Is he kidding me?

I glance down at the plain black T-shirt and black jeans I’m wearing. Where the heck would I go and get drunk, dressed like this?

I rake my hands through my hair, feeling the minuscule amount of my conserved energy leave my body.

“Are you sick?” he presses, his tone gentler.

I glare at him. I know I look awful, but I’m not ill. Still, I bet Mav would look sexy even on his deathbed.

Shaking my head, I move to push past him. He grips my arm and pulls me to a stop. The heat of his palm sears through me, rooting me to the moment.

“Where were you?” he growls.

“Does it matter, Mav?” I toss back, biting my bottom lip. Deep down, I know Mav doesn’t give a shit about me. So, what’s with the misplaced concern?

His eyes flare with an emotion I can’t read; honestly, I’m too tired to try. Ripping my arm from his grip, I pass him, climb the stairs, and throw myself in the shower.

I wash my hair and rinse off quickly. Wrapping myself in a large bath towel, I pass out in my bed.

Sleep comes quickly, and when my alarm rings, I nearly cry.

This kicks off the cycle Mav and I find ourselves in for the next few weeks. I spend my days on campus, trying to keep upwith my classes and stay on top of my assignments. My nights include taking orders, refilling ketchup bottles, and brewing coffee.

I am a shitty server, and it takes me a long time to find my stride. Lia is a hell of a lot more patient than I thought she’d be. Even though she’s tough on me, she’s fair. As the long nights drag on, we settle into an understanding that alleviates the pressure I feel when I’m on the clock.

When I arrive home early, I catch a pissed-off Mav or avoid him altogether.

When I get home late, I sigh with relief that he’s sleeping, and I can slip into my bedroom without his judgy eyes and endless questions.

Who’re you seeing?

This guy have a name?

If he’s such a fucking catch, why the hell do you look so miserable?

Mckenna, how are you getting home?

Are you on drugs?

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