We’d be fine.
Indy caught my eye when she stopped moving behind the bar and came to stand in front of me, forearms pressed into the counter as she leaned forward with a cheeky smile. I knew that look. The wheels in that pretty little head of hers were turning.
“Spill it, punk princess,” I told her as I brought the pen to my lips, taking the capped side between my teeth.
“This weekend is going to be insane. I can feel it. Best Night Life? Hell ya, we are! So, to celebrate and bring in some extra cash, of course, I think we should do a signature drink this weekend only. Create something bougie, up-charge for it, and slap a punny name on it in honor of the award.”
Her idea was brilliant, honestly. In the past, when we’d done similar, it’d been a gold mine. I pursed my lips in thought, the pen cap now tapping against my mouth. “Let’s make it a parody. Call it The Runner-Up and make it a classic drink with a twist. Which cocktail was our best seller last week?”
“Probably the classic mojito. My fingers smelled like mint for three days after we got through Saturday night.”
“What can we add to that to make it unique?”
“I’m not so sure it needs to be unique, boss,” she quipped. “It’s a runner-up, right? So it doesn’t need to be too different from the original. A mojito is lime and mint, so what if we just throw some limoncello in too, and make it a limoncello mojito? Lime juice, mint, white rum, soda water, and a splash of limoncello. I can spiral some lemons and garnish the drink with the peel and mint leaves.”
I jotted down limoncello onto my list and drew a star next to lemons to indicate I’d need a lot of them. “Perfect, Indy. Great idea. Brainsandbeauty, aren’t ya?”
“It’s why you pay me the big bucks.” She laughed as she rearranged the clear boxes of garnish.
I slid off my barstool and scooped my purse from where it sat beside me, turning back to her as I said, “Oh great! You think I’m paying you the big bucks? I’ll cross ‘give Indy a raise’ off my other list, then.”
Playfully, she picked up a damp dish towel and flung it in my direction. It landed on the edge of the bar. My fingers wrapped around it to toss it back, when suddenly the bright sunlight streaming in through the open side door dimmed.
“We’re closed!” Indy called out, not bothering to stop her organizing.
Me, however… I looked at the door to see who was casting a shadow.
Looking back at me was a six-foot four motorcycle god standing in the doorway of my bar.
Our eyes connected, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. Cain leaned against the frame, his right arm propped against it like he didn’t have a care in the world. He wore his signature jeans and t-shirt with his leather vest, all of which looked freshly laundered and not like he’d just hopped off his bike. Which, maybe he hadn’t, since I didn’t hear the familiar rumble of the engine enter into the parking lot.
“What do you want, Cain?” I sassed when I remembered how to form a sentence. From behind me, Indy snorted, and I tossed her a look. “What?”
“You just said that so damn loud, boss.”
I scoffed, trying to play it smoothly by shrugging one of my shoulders. “Whatever,” I mumbled at her before turning my attention back to Cain. A smirk played on his lips, which I ignored and moved toward the hall, heading to my office.
The sound of his boots against the concrete floor echoed throughout the bar as he followed. Once in front of the mirrors that hid my office, I pushed the small perforation on the wooden frame on the mirror aside to reveal a keyhole. Reaching into my back pocket, I produced a single key on a thin, light blue lanyard, and shoved it in.
After it unlocked, I pushed the hidden door open and walked inside. The door swung shut behind me quickly, but unsurprisingly, the sound of what I presumed to be Cain’s hand catching it before it closed fully caused the hinges to whine as he pushed it back open.
I expelled a dramatic breath and sat the shopping list and pen I still held on my desk. Placing both hands on the smooth surface, I let my head drop as I battled with the angel and devil on my shoulders on how to handle this.
Ever since our run-in a few nights ago in the club's living room, he’d infiltrated every thought I had, every moment of every day. But I still wasn’t ready to just forgive and forget, despite Sly’s words incessantly repeating in my head.
He loves you.
Maybe he did back then, but you can’t love someone you haven’t seen in years.
Can’t you though? Your best friends both reconnected with the people they thought slipped away years later…
Clearly, they were the exception and not the rule.
My head turned slightly as my eyes wandered to the couch, the exact spot where just a few days prior, Sly gifted me an earth-shattering orgasm while I stared through the glass at the very same man who I could feel moving closer to me now. His steps were quiet, calculated, as he wordlessly crossed the room, stopping only when he was so close, I could feel the heat from his body radiate off him.
“Seriously, Cain. What?” I flinched slightly when his hand connected with my skin, just above my elbow. His fingertips trailed upward, lightly tracing a path up my arm, leaving goosebumps in place of his touch. Despite my efforts to remain unaffected and aloof, my breathing hitched, and I straightened instead of leaning forward on the desk.
Big mistake.
