“Zeke doesn’t have guys hassling him,” he scoffed.
“Hey, Killian,” Louis said and we both looked over at him. “If you make yourself crazy over every guy who looks at her, you’ll be too busy to serve the customers.”
Killian ran his hand through his hair. “Fuck. This is exactly why we shouldn’t put women behind the bar.”
I rolled my eyes. Louis winked at me. Killian scowled. I returned to Adam.
“I need more tequila,” Adam said, slurring his words.
“You’ve had enough,” I said firmly.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I need more.” He opened his eyes and grabbed my hand again, but this time his grip was strong, and he tried to pull me closer. “I need you. Come home with me. You know how to make things better, don’t you, Eve?”
I pulled my hand free. “No. I don’t.”
Killian growled. Yes, he growled. “Keep your fucking hands off her.”
Adam leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “My hands aren’t on her,” he said, his tone surly. “You need to chill out.”
Killian glared at Adam and followed me to the register, getting right in my space as I closed out Adam’s tab. “That was unnecessary,” I said, looking him in the eye. We were so close I could see the thin rim of black around the outside of his iris. Why did he have to smell so good? It was like he’d marinated in pheromones. I was tempted to take a few steps back to fight this chemical reaction, but I held my ground. “I told you I can handle him. Pounding your chest and acting like a caveman is not cool. Not to me, anyway.” I wasn’t overly impressed with Adam, but Killian didn’t need to turn it into a major issue either.
He narrowed his very blue eyes at me. “It’s my job to protect you from assholes. It’s your job to serve drinks. Not to play shrink.”
I rolled my eyes and stepped around the mountain of muscle that was Killian. Setting Adam’s card and receipt in front of him, I handed him a pen. “Is he your boyfriend?” Adam asked.
“No.” I could feel Killian’s eyes boring a hole into the back of my head.
Adam jammed his credit card in his wallet and threw down a wad of cash for a tip. “Give me your number. I’ll take you to dinner.”
I shook my head no and reached for his tab and receipt. My pen still in his hand, he grabbed my arm and wrote his number on it. “Call me.”
I had no intention of ever calling him, and I didn’t want his number on my arm. But Adam smiled like we’d brokered a deal before he turned and stumbled to the door. “Goodnight, Eve,” he called over his shoulder.
On our way home, Killian brought up Adam again. “That guy was all over you. I didn’t like it.”
Was he jealous? It was hard to tell with him. “I was trying to be nice to him.”
“Too nice.” He looked at my arm where Adam’s number was still written in ink. “That’s the kind of guy you like?”
“No, it’s not the kind of guy I like.” Adam had the same preppy golden boy look as Luke, and there had been a time when I was attracted to that type. But Luke and I had met young, and his douchebag behavior, his quest for power and money, and his sense of entitlement, hadn’t been fully developed yet. Adam had already shown me that side of himself, and I knew it wasn’t something I wanted.
“You didn’t wash off his number,” Killian said.
“I didn’t get around to it.” I’d been busy with my closing duties and had mostly forgotten about it. As soon as I got home, I’d scrub it off.
I expected Killian to drop the subject, but he pressed on. “Do you want him to take you to dinner?”
“Why does it even matter to you?” I asked, annoyed with this conversation and his persistence.
Instead of answering, he pressed his lips together. If left to him, the rest of the ride would be in silence.
“Hey, Killian.”
He grunted. Caveman-style.
“Does it hurt to get a tattoo?”
Killian shrugged. “It just feels like a needle scratching your skin. Annoying more than anything. But it doesn’t hurt. Not for me, anyway.”