Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Can my brother come, or is it employees only? To the party, I mean. Not your house,” I clarify.
“Your brother is in high school, right?”
I nod.
“I think it’s supposed to be twenty-one and over, but no one really enforces it. Just tell him not to be a dumbass and try to order a drink.”
“He’s not an amateur.” I laugh. Jess will probably come toting a water bottle full of vodka or some shit, but he’s not stupid enough to try to order from the bar. Though, I bet it’s harder to get your hands on stuff here than in Oakland. He has older friends back home, but even if he didn’t, there’s a homeless man on every corner looking to score a beer or a few bucks in exchange for buying booze.
To be honest, I give Jess shit, but he really is a good kid with a big heart. He smokes weed and drinks, but that’s our normal. I don’t know one kid in Oakland that doesn’t. I’m just glad he’s not a pillhead or a smackhead…or a crackhead or a cokehead. None of the bad heads. Just a pothead. I can live with that.
Jake taps his knuckles on the doorframe, and I look over at him from my seat at the table. “Good job today,” he says with a smile. “A few more days of training and I’ll put you on the night shift where I need you.”
“She’s already better than half your staff,” Sutton says, rolling her eyes.
“True. I just have to go through the motions, so I don’t piss anyone else off. Everyone wants the night shift.”
“Oh, thank God,” I say, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“We work the same shift again tomorrow. Wanna come in a little early and have a late breakfast? Jake makes the best pancakes on this side of River’s Edge,” Sutton says, bumping his hip with hers.
“That’s bullshit. I make the best pancakes on the entire lake and you know it.”
“Debatable.” She shrugs.
“But yes. By all means, I’ll come in an hour early and cook breakfast for you two princesses. I don’t have a life or anything.”
“Damn right you will,” Sutton says before heading back to tend to her remaining tables before she clocks out. “See you at ten!”
“You don’t really have to do that,” I say once she’s gone.
“No, you should. It’s my pleasure. I just like to give Sutton a hard time.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep. In fact, I’ll fire you if you don’t.”
I cross my arms. “Is that so?”
“Okay, no. But it was worth a try.”
I laugh, rolling my eyes. I know he’s teasing, but there’s a little sliver of…something that crawls up my spine. Not exactly suspicion, but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It’s not him. It’s Eric. His brand of manipulation started off playful, just like this. And I never would’ve guessed things would end up the way they did. Not even for a second. And now, I’m suspicious of everyone, even harmless guys with floppy hair and kind eyes.
“If you insist,” I say, ducking under his arm that’s braced against the doorframe.
“If I have to be here early with Sutton, then so do you.”
“I heard that!” Sutton yells from somewhere in the kitchen around the corner.
“See you then.”
I’m in the middle of the street, halfway to my car, before I remember that Dare is next door. I stop in my tracks, looking behind me. The Bad Intentions sign glows pink in the night sky, and I can see that the shop is busy, but I don’t see Dare.
I jog back across the street and pluck a fifty-dollar bill from my pocket. I open the door, and a guy with gauges and suspenders walks toward me, smiling, but I wave him off, letting him know I’m not a customer. There are a couple of other guys tattooing, one I recognize from the last time I was here, one I don’t. Dare is sitting on a stool near his station, with his hands behind his head and his legs spread wide.
I walk right up to him, and when he finally sees me, he doesn’t react. Doesn’t seem shocked by my presence. I bend over, getting close to his ear, and whisper, “I don’t need your money.” His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t move a muscle, hands still clasped behind his head. I take it a step further than he did and tuck the money inside his jeans, and under his boxer briefs. He raises a brow when my fingers touch the warm skin of his lower, lower stomach.
I pull my hand back and walk away without another word, hearing a damn and who the hell was that mixed with a low whistle and some laughs. I don’t know what Dare’s reaction is, because I don’t look back.