Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Charli silently places the beer down in front of me before moving on to fill her next customer’s order, and I find myself watching her with an intrigued grin as she goes about her duties. I don’t know what it is about this chick, but every fucking step she takes is mesmerizing. Without even trying, she’s got me hooked like a fucking junkie desperate for his next fix.
I sit here for half an hour before I’m startled out of my reverie when a steak lands in front of me. I know it has everything to do with Charli, even though she doesn’t look up at me to acknowledge it. The blush spreading across her cheeks is a dead giveaway. Either way, I won’t be wasting a perfectly good steak, I’m fucking starving. Hell, I don’t know why I didn’t consider ordering one in the first place.
Not wasting another second, I dig in and watch as Charli smiles to herself before walking away from the bar, clearly very proud.
My steak is cooked perfectly, and I lose myself in the flavor. Before I know it, the bar is practically empty. I glance around, wondering how the fuck I managed to lose track of time like that. Charli is busy wiping down the tables, humming along to the music, and lost in her own world as she prepares to close for the night. She heads into the back and turns down the music, giving the remaining customers the hint to get the hell out of here.
She returns to the bar a moment later, and I lift my chin, gaining her attention. “You need a hand with anything?”
She gives me a grateful smile but declines the offer. “No, it’s okay. I’m nearly done, but thanks though.”
Rolling my eyes, I get up off the stool, not surprised by her response in the least. I make my way around the bar and stride right up to her, smirking as she freezes. Then without a word, I take the spray and towel from her hands and make myself useful, wiping down the rest of the tables and bar countertop for her.
By the time I’m finished, every last customer is gone, and it’s just me and Charli left in the bar. That familiar tension is back, steadily growing between us. Taking my seat again, I watch as she grabs my plate off the bar and ducks into the back. She’s gone for only a moment when the lights go out, sending a wave of darkness throughout the bar. She leaves on the lights directly above the bar and completely shuts the music off. After such a long few days, the dead silence in the bar is the most blissful thing I’ve heard all week.
Charli comes back out and pours me another beer before pouring a chick drink for herself. She comes around to my side and takes the stool beside me, making me grin at her initiative. I didn’t expect her to be so forward, but I like this side of her. Apparently, I haven’t got a shy Charli tonight . . . at least, not anymore.
“Thanks for helping,” she murmurs, sipping on her drink. “You didn’t need to do that.”
I shrug off her thanks. “I wanted to,” I tell her as I swivel on my stool to face her more directly, my knee brushing up against her thigh.
“You had a game tonight?” she asks, her brows furrowed in question as if she can’t quite recall if that’s true or not.
“Sure did,” I say as a smirk takes over, unable to look away. “You keeping tabs?”
Her whole face flames, but she recovers quickly. “The audacity of this man,” she laughs. “After parking your big-ass truck outside the salon on Monday, you have the nerve to ask if I’m keeping tabs? You expect me to think that was a coincidence, Mr. Widow Maker?”
I groan at her casual use of that ridiculous name, knowing she’s only using it to tease me. “Would you believe me if I said it really was a coincidence?” Charli presses her lips into a tight smile before slowly shaking her head, refusing to believe me. I roll my eyes but continue anyway. “How was your first week?”
A beaming smile takes over her face, lighting up her features like Christmas morning. “It was incredible,” she tells me, making me wonder how it’d feel to have her talk about me in that way. “I feel like I’ve already learned so much.”
“That’s great. What about your mentor? Has she realized you’re too good for her yet?”
Charli’s face flames again before really considering my question. “Oh God, I wish I could be that good, but Gina is great. She tends to get a little grouchy if she misses her afternoon coffee, but she really knows what she’s talking about and is cool with me learning from the other girls as well.”