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“I don’t know,” I flirt. “Can you? Are you twenty-one?”
“I’m twenty-three.”
“You don’t look that old.”
“I get that a lot,” he says smoothly. “It’s the dimples.” He points to his cheek and widens his smile.
“You promise that you’re twenty-three?” I ask coyly. “I don’t want to get fired on my second shift.”
“You’re new,” he surmises. “I knew I hadn’t seen you here before. I would’ve remembered that beautiful face.”
I know it’s a line, but I don’t mind. I allow myself to swim in the compliment. Johnny’s hot. And it feels good to flirt with a man who means nothing to me at this point. Johnny is easy and fun. There’s no history muddying the waters between us.
“Take a shot with me?” he asks.
“I can’t. I’m on the clock. And I’m not twenty-one yet.”
“Well then, you’ll just have to go out with me instead.”
“Are you asking?” I narrow my eyes.
“I’m practically begging,” he quips.
“Well, in that case … I have to say yes. I can’t stand to see a grown man beg.”
“Lucky me,” he says.
He leans his elbows on the bar, and some of the space between us disappears. I’m enjoying the banter we have going.
“Johnny!” One of his bandmates yells his name from the middle of the room.
He holds up a finger and nods, and then he pulls his phone from his back pocket. “Can I get your number?”
“I guess you’ve earned it,” I breathe out with a smile.
I relay my digits, and he types them into his cell.
“This’d better not be a fake phone number, Madison. If it is … I’ll just have to hunt you down. Now, I know where to find you.” He starts to walk away.
“Do a lot of women give you fake digits?”
He pauses while glancing over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t know. You’re the first woman I’ve asked.”
I throw my head back and laugh, knowing he’s full of shit. But he’s charming all the same. He winks and then makes his way back up to the stage.
Henley bounces up, dropping a tray in front of me. She fans her hand in front of her face like she’s overheated. “Who was that?”
“That was Johnny Solheim.”
“He’s so unattractive,” she deadpans and then smirks. “Did I see him getting your number?” Her eyebrows arch as she waits for my answer.
“I plead the Fifth,” I say, but I’m sure my coy smile gives me away.
Henley’s grin grows. I reach behind the counter and take a sip from the ice water I stashed there, realizing Johnny never got that shot he was wanting.
“You’re my hero,” she proclaims with envy.
I roll my eyes and laugh.
