Page 13 of Wicked

“To tell you the truth, I didn’t realize she was working or that she worked here.”

Pam’s brows tug low. “Aren’t the two of you—”

“The guys and I arefamished. Would you mind showing us to our table?”

If she’s put off by my rude behavior, she isn’t showing it. She walks us to a booth in the back and sets menus in front of us. “Your server will be with you boys soon.”

I make a mental note to later apologize to Esther’s mom. No need to destroy my chances with Missy with word getting back to Harper that I’m a complete A-hole.

“Hi, there. Name’s Harper. I’ll be your server . . .”

Our eyes meet. I cock a brow. She glances away and centers her attention on Jake. Jake looks from me to Harper. All the guys do. I get why. Underlying tension thickens the air like a fog rolling in.

“I’ll be your server tonight. Has everyone decided? Can I start everyone off with appetizers and drinks?”

Harper squares her shoulders and slices through the tension with her smile. This girl deals with awkward situations on the fly, and I give her points for being a professional.

“What’s your special?”

Jackass Trevor testing the wait staff with his stupid question.

“Fish and chips with a side of chowder. Or steak with gourmet purple fingerlings and rice pilaf.”

I can go for both. “I’ll have both.”

Her eyes widen into these beautiful orbs, and I can’t stop staring. In the light, dressed in black, she’s smoking hot.

The long-sleeved buttoned-up shirt stretches across her chest and hugs her slim and toned arms. Her slacks call attention to the curves of her hips, the stretchy material outlining her shapely legs. My friends aren’t shy in checking her out either, openly running their greedy eyes up and down her lithe body.

“Anything to drink?”

“I’ll have a tall glass of you, babe,” I reply, smirking.

My friends chortle.

What I learn quick is to not provoke Harper. She leans in, and for my ear only, says, “One, you can’t afford me. Two, show some respect. Otherwise, I will whoop your ass, and it won’t be with a dodgeball. Got it?” she growls.

I swallow. Nod.

Ever the professional, she straightens, and smiling brightly, she finishes taking our orders. The guys watch her leave, hanging out of their seats, their eyes glued to her swaying hips. Man, those damn slacks of hersare tight.

“Shit, man, what the fuck just happened? You two getting it on? ’Cause from what I’m seeing, hearing, and feeling, there is some serious heat. I’m talking pent-up sexual desires hanging in the air between you two,” Joey says in his country twang.

The girls go nutso for his accent.

“I met her last week. At our house party.”

Harper returns with waters and our drinks. The table goes silent, but the conversation amps up again when she leaves.

“So which is it, you two seeing one another or not?”

“And if we’re not?” I ask Jake.

He’s our quarterback. Charismatic. Natural leader. Digs the girls, and the coeds love him back. But you see, Jake is also on track to making it big, so he’s keeping his options open. Doesn’t want to commit for shit.

“I’d ask her out, that’s what,” he says, confirming my suspicions.

“She’s not your type, man.” The muscles along my wide shoulders tense with the thought of his big paws anywhere near Harper’s petite frame.

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