That was all.
Right?
Chapter Thirteen
Twister
I should’ve gone home.
She worked confidently.Comfortable.
Pouring drinks, chatting, and laughing.Her voice rang out above the low thrum of conversation, warm and strong.She stopped to talk to a woman, then took plates back to the kitchen.Then she was back, slinging beers and wiping down the bar.
She didn’t sit still for a second.
I sipped my drink and watched her.Every move.Every flick of her fingers.The way her hips swayed slightly when she walked.I told myself it wasn’t creepy.I was just...interested.That’s all.Admiring from afar.
At least until some guy reached across the bar and touched her hand.
My jaw clenched.It wasn’t even sexual, just some drunk guy trying to get her attention.But still.I didn’t like it.
Tempi pulled her hand back, not flinching, not scared.Just...annoyed.Like she was used to it.
I hated that.
Two in the morning came fast.The bar thinned out until it was just me, Britta, and Tempi left.The woman had stumbled out an hour earlier, and the college kids had long since wandered off.
Tempi was behind the bar rearranging bottles and wiping things down with the same focused energy.Britta was leaning against the counter, sipping something dark from a red cup.
“You can head out, Britta,” Tempi said.“Not much left to clean tonight.”
Britta raised an eyebrow, flicked her gaze toward me, then smirked.“I think that sounds good to me.See ya later, you two.”
She grabbed her purse from under the bar and headed for the door.
The second it shut behind her, the silence settled.
Tempi glanced at me.“You gonna finish that drink, or should I put it in a to-go cup for you?”
I chuckled and raised the glass.“If I finished it too fast, I wouldn’t have had a reason to stick around.”
Her eyes met mine.“Why did you need to stick around?”
I shrugged and stared into the last inch of whiskey.“Not really sure why, doll.Something just...”
She tilted her head.“Just what?”
I didn’t answer and downed the last of the whiskey.I watched her as she continued to clean.The way her fingers moved across the bottles, the way her brow furrowed as she realigned the shelf.
I stood up and made my way to the jukebox in the corner.Flicked through the songs until I saw an icon labeledTempi’s.
Of course she had her own playlist.
I tapped it.First song:Break Inby Halestorm.
I pressed play.
The slow, haunting intro poured into the bar and wrapped around us like smoke.I turned around.Tempi was standing on the other side of the bar, closer than before.
