Page 40 of Freshmeet
“I’m sorry. Mona, do you hear something?” Kat spun around, shaking her ass on Emily, using her thick lower half to keep her stuck.
Mona, the smallest of the three, just kept pelvic thrusting. “Not a thing.”
I dropped my purse behind the bar. “Got started a little early?”
Emily broke free of the shimmy sisters and wrapped her long arms around me, the smell of cheap vodka strong on her breath as she said hi.
“I didn’t know you were in town this summer.”
She sighed and slipped onto a barstool. “Yeah, just got back from family vacation. I start back at Lotus Sushi on Monday.”
“Nice,” I said as I clocked in on the POS system.
“You okay?” Mona asked, popping a piece of popcorn in her mouth.
I straightened the stack of napkins in the holder. “My mom just called me.”
“Gotcha,” Kat said. “How about a few shots of Old Crow to burn away the taste of parental disappointment?” She lifted an eyebrow in challenge.
“You think I won’t?”
She shrugged. “I don’t care either way. It’s your choice of what kind of night you want to have.”
Without answering, I grabbed four shot glasses and a bottle of bottom-shelf whiskey. Carefully, I poured the shots and handed them to Kat, Mona, and Emily.
Kat raised her glass. “Here’s to those who wish us well, and those who don’t can go to hell!”
Tapping the bottom of my glass on the bar, I shut my eyes and took the shot. The liquor burned on my tongue and then proceeded to burn all the way down.
I coughed and stuck out my tongue. “Ug. That was rough.”
“I’m so proud.” Kat wiped away fake tears, and I stared at her until she took her own shot. No flinch, no grimace, all badass. “The perfect drink.” She smacked her lips and offered to buy another, but we all shook our heads. “Your loss.”
In no time, the bar was packed, and I was hauling ass just to keep up with Jen, one of the other bartenders, and Connor.
Being behind the bar, I had a front-row seat to Connor slinging drinks and flirting with every woman in the room—except me.
On our first shift after he walked me to the party, I thought things would get better, but Meg suggested he had a thing for her, and I felt weird even being in the same room as them. Then there was that disastrous late lunch at Poppy’s, and I almost quit the Welkum to avoid having to ever talk to him again.
But alas, I needed the money.
So, I was stuck watching a guy, who was apparently a great brother and friend, with zero hope of making him mine.
Connor occasionally ran his fingers through his dark blond hair, keeping it out of his eyes in clichéd messy perfection. As he reached for a bottle off the middle shelf, his black Welkum shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, giving the whole room a show.
Every time his bright blue eyes looked my way, I struggled to keep from hiding behind Jen. Instead, I’d stand a little taller, pushing my boobs out, trying to entice him to come over and break the ice. The shots Kat kept buying made burying the hatchet seem a lot less scary.
Unfortunately, Connor never took the bait. Instead, he’d lean down and say something in Meg’s ear, and she’d smirk and make his well drink for him. So not only was it still awkward as hell between Connor and me, but I was developing some powerful jealousy toward Meg.
Why am I such a loser?
“Barkeep, make me another!” Spicy cologne assaulted my nose. It was too strong, too much, and I knew exactly who was wearing it.
“Carter. What’s up?”
He wedged in between Mona and Kat, cutting off the line of other people waiting for refills of their bright yellow cups. “Not much. You never texted me back.”
I nodded, not answering the unasked question lingering between us. Honestly, he wouldn’t like what I had to say.
