Page 29 of Lilah
"I won't tell anyone," I nod and he shakes his head as he bends, grabbing something from under the counter.
He pulls out a cup filled with peach colored moonshine. I stare at it for a couple of seconds.
"Can I get a top for it," I question and he laughs.
"What, you want to drink moonshine from a sippy cup now?" he replies. One more comment from him and I swear.
How the freak am I going to walk all the way home with an open cup? I know for a fact that I'll forget it's in my hand and it'll tip over.
"Fine," I give him the twenty dollars and say freak it. I'm probably still going to get punished for only bringing a cup home but whatever, it's better than nothing.
"I don't think so," the recognizable voice that I haven't heard in a couple of days says.
I look up and see Grey in all his gorgeous glory. He lifts the drink away from me and he pours it in the sink.
"Grey," I grumble and he turns to me.
"What are you doing Lilah? You're nineteen," his dark eyebrows furrow angrily and I sigh.
"I was close," the bartender guy murmurs and I hold myself back from attacking him.
"I'm not nineteen," I mumble stubbornly even though I am and he raises an eyebrow at me, placing his arms on the counter in front of me. Does he work here?
"Not what you told me," he says lowly.
"Can I get a scotch?" A guy slurs from behind me. His hand curls around my back and I flinch forward in shock, a slight gasp leaving my lips.
Grey throws his forearm forward, slamming it into the guy's chest. My eyes go wide.
"You wanna get handsy, go get a fuckin' hooker," he sneers and the guys eyes widen in fear. I'm pretty sure mine do too.
Without getting his drink, the guy makes his way back out into the large crowd.
"This is why you don't come to places like this," Grey growls out and I bite the inside of my cheek.
He doesn't understand.
"I need moonshine," I tell him strongly. I decide against crossing my arms, figuring it'd make me look less like a cool person.
"You're not getting any," he seemingly grows more frustrated.
"I will climb over this counter and get it myself if you don't give me it," I warn and the closest thing to a smirk takes over his face.
He leans forward and I nearly swoon but I hold myself back.
"Try me."
I'll pull out my CIA moves so quick, he won't know what hit him.
Instead, I lay my head on my arms and hide my face from him, trying to think of an adequate plan.
A slight push on my back gets my attention and I raise my head from my arms. I turn around to see who did it only to be met with a big man's elbow right in the face as he gets into a bar fight with another guy.
My head flies back so fast I could've gotten whiplash if I wasn't so CIA trained.
Good God almighty, that hurts like a mother trucker.
Large hands grab under my arms and lift me back. I feel my butt slide across the counter until I'm on the other side.
