"Hm." A thoughtful expression crossed Evan's face. He put a hand on the small of my back and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "If it's nothing, then why does the guy look like he wants to murder me right now?"
I snuck another peek at Grant through a curtain of hair. The crinkle at the corners of his eyes had nothing to do with good humor. Instead, they were narrowed into a dark glare. His hand was clenched tight around the cleaning rag in his hand.
Was Grant jealous?
That spark inside me ignited into hope. Grant was seeing another man flirt with me for the first time, wasn't he? I'd only ever dated a few guys over the last few years, and all of them had been brief. I'd never brought any of them to the bar.
Then that hope fizzled out, morphing into a writhing ball of indignation.
What right did Grant have to be jealous? He was the one going off dating hot models. So what if the new bartender was a little flirty and overly friendly?
I pursed my lips and went back to the register.
"This is how you split the bill," I explained. "Just hit these buttons here and the machine does the rest. When it comes to large tables, you can add the automatic gratuity with this option."
Evan nodded as he followed along.
"Doesn't seem too hard," he said. "I'm sure I can get the hang of it, as long as I have you to help me."
"You'll have all of us to help you," I said.
"Even that Grant guy?" he asked. "Seems like he hates me already."
"He'll be fine once he realizes you're just being friendly," I said.
A slow smile slid across his lips.
"What if he doesn't?" Evan asked. The question sounded rhetorical. "What if he thinks I'm serious?"
"Are you?" I took a step back, hastily putting space between us. I didn't need the new guy to actually be interested in me.
"Not at all," Evan said. "All I'm saying is, if the two of you are just friends, he wouldn't be staring at me like he wanted to gut me with a rusty spoon."
I quickly flicked my eyes to Grant, trying to be subtle. He did look pissed off, throwing angry glances our way as he scrubbed the counter at the far end of the bar.
"How long do you think it will take him to come over here and say something?" Evan asked with a sly tone.
"I won't play games and try to make Grant jealous," I said. "That's immature."
"You're not doing anything," Evan said, feigning innocence. "I'm the one getting a little too familiar with you." He put a hand on my arm and leaned down again to whisper in my ear. "Now laugh and pretend I said something charming."
"I'm not going to— Ah!" I squirmed and giggled reflexively as Evan poked a finger into my side, triggering an automatic reaction to the tickle. I wiggled away. "You're horrible," I told him with one last giggle as I settled down. I wanted to see Grant's reaction, but I resisted the urge to look at him.
"So tell me," Evan said easily. "How long have you held a torch for this guy?"
"I'm not holding a torch," I muttered, even though it was a complete and utter lie. "I told you, we're just friends."
"Hey Liz." Grant was striding over with a firm, determined look on his face. He came to stand next to me and put an arm around my shoulder. "We still on for late-night brunch after work?" He ignored Evan completely.
My eyes went wide. Had it really been that easy?
"Brunch sounds awesome," Evan said, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile. "Where are we going?"
"You've got a short shift since it's your first day," Grant said casually. "You'll be home long before Liz and I head out. Sorry."
He didn't sound sorry in the slightest.
"Sure," I said, looking up at Grant. Where the hell had this come from? "I'm in for diner food. Want to share the Farmer's Breakfast again?"