Gesturing wildly at the crowd, she explained, “This. All these people. It’s because of you.”
“Seems like whatever I did was good for business. And if you’re working behind the bar, I bet your tips are higher than average.”
She shot me a murderous glare. Damn, she was cute when she got all fired up. “It would be great if everyone here didn’t come just to have me scream at them.”
Tapping my fingers on the bar top, I huffed out a laugh. “Can’t say I blame them, Kitten. It revs my engine.” I tossed her a wink.
“Don’t remind me,” Gemma muttered, barely audible over the music pumped in from wall-mounted speakers. When I kept staring at her, she tilted her face toward the ceiling, blowing out a breath. “You’re not leaving.”
“Nope.” I popped the P, knowing it would set her even further on edge. If the people wanted a show, who was I to deny them?
“Hey!” the guy beside me shouted. “You’re the guy from the video.”
“Oh my God.” Gemma let out a frustrated groan.
“Yeah, that’s me.” Grinning, I extended my hand to the stranger. “Goose. Nice to meet you.”
He shook it, eager eyes shifting between me and Gemma. Nudging the guy on his other side, he said, “Ricky, get a load of this. We’re gonna get a live re-enactment!”
Guy Number Two—Ricky—leaned his torso over the bar to peek at me. “No way! And you didn’t even want to come tonight, Colby.”
Colby crooked a finger, beckoning to Gemma. “Come on, sweetheart. Let him have it.”
A muscle twitched along her jaw, and I could tell she was holding back. So, I decided to taunt her, hoping I could light the fuse on the fireworks.
“Gemma, baby. What is it that they always say? The customer is always right? You’re not going to deny these fine people what they want, are you?”
Her eyes narrowed into thin slits. “Order a drink or get out. I don’t have time for your psycho bullshit tonight, Sasha.”
A groan rumbled from deep within my chest at hearing her say my name for the first time. “Fuck, Kitten. You’re killing me.”
Gemma scoffed. “Better you than me.”
“I’ll take whatever cola you have on tap.”
Her dark eyebrows rose to her hairline, where she’d piled her nearly black hair into a messy bun atop her head. “This is a bar.”
“I’m aware.”
Assessing me with a critical eye, she asked, “You don’t drink alcohol?”
“Nope.”
Something softened in her gaze. “How long have you been sober?”
“Since the day I was born.”
Gemma’s plush pink lips parted. “Wait. You’veneverhad a drink?”
I shrugged. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not.” Her head cocked to the side. “I just—Is it for religious reasons?”
Lacing my fingers together over the bar, I explained, “I’ve seen how it ruins lives, and I’m not interested in that for myself.”
“Well, then.” Gemma cleared her throat. “A cola it is.” She busied herself, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice before pressing the button on the soda gun. The dark, carbonated beverage was placed before me on a napkin. “Here you go.”
I raised it to my lips, letting the bubbles tickle the back of my throat before coming up for air with anahh. Tilting the glass in Gemma’s direction, I smiled. “Thanks.”
