Page 6 of Missing Linc
The bar door opens, and I raise my eyes to look at the new arrival. Maybe it’s a girl to help me get over Makayla.
But nope. It’s not.
It’shim.
It’s Camden.
CHAPTER2
Camden
It shouldn’t surpriseme that he’s here, but damn it, I am. Iamsurprised. He’s not supposed to be here. And the person thatissupposed to be here, isn’t.
Fucking great.
I’m going to kill you, Autumn.
I wave at him while I take a seat at the bar and then turn my attention to the bartender. Granted, he’s not a better view than this guy—Professor Young—but I have to distract myself somehow.
“What can I get for you?” he says and leans over the bar with a cocky smirk that does nothing for me.Nada.Nicht.
This other guy though? Young? Just feeling him staring at me makes me all hot and bothered.
“Do you do Frozen Daiquiris?” I ask.
He nods and I order a Strawberry one.
He raises an eyebrow and gazes at me from top to bottom.
“Got ID?” he asks.
“Sure do,” I say and offer him one.
He still acts suspicious reading it over, and I can’t say I blame him. Itisa fake one, but whatever. If I can be on hormone therapy, drive, and vote, I can certainly drink. And not to say anything of the fact of how awesome it feels to carry a card, albeit fake, that shows the gender I am versus the one I was born with.
I finally get my ID back, and he gets working on my cocktail.
I’d rather he kept enquiring or flirting, whatever it was he was doing. Because that means I have no distraction for my eyes. And they’ll start rolling…oh, oh. Yep. They’ve rolled at his direction.
I’m looking at him. Mr. Young.
Damn it!
Good job, eyes. Good job.
He offers me a smile and then looks at the bartender before he turns his attention back to his phone and his drink. Whiskey, neat from what I can tell. Unless the ice has melted.
Stop noticing him, idiot!
I make a point of checking my own phone and there’s still no update from my sister.
If you stand me up, I swear to the Gods you believe in I’m gonna kill you, Autumn Hawkins.
Three minutes later, the bartender leans over with my drink and a straw, and my phone lights up in alert.
“Sorry, hon. I can’t make it. I have to work late again,” Autumn says, and I curse.
Bitch. You’re no sister of mine!
