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My cheeks sting with warmth as I think about how he’s come in here for the last week, every single day, and just watches me with those impossibly green eyes. And instead of it being unnerving - like it should be - it unleashes a curious warmth deep in my core that I don’t understand.
Walker leans back in his booth, his attention locked on mine. The air between us crackles with an energy I can't explain.
“Why is he staring at me like that?” I murmur to myself. A shiver runs down my spine, not an unpleasant sensation, but an odd one, nonetheless. It's as if he's claiming me from across the room, and the protective look in his eyes sends a message to anyone and everyone who approaches me. His jaw ripples when a man walks up and sits right in front of me.
“Can I take you out sometime?” he asks, a hopeful smile on his handsome face.
I blink, caught off guard. Flirting is the last thing on my mind, and not just because of Walker’s constant stare making my pulse race. Panic worms through my belly and my thoughts freeze. I know the drill, let this guy down gently so his response doesn’t cause a stir or send him directly to my manager to complain - I can't afford trouble at work. Of course, Daniel has always been understanding and knows that some guys are just unhinged when they’re told no. If only they knew how unattractive that trait is, maybe they’d work on their responses.
“Uh,” I say, then hesitate, glancing toward Walker again. The light catches the sharp angles of his face, highlighting the hard set of his expression. He looks every bit like the dominating force he’s known to be, an ex-gang member bad boy turned billionaire that no one dares oppose.
“Sorry, I'm... not available,” I say in the least convincing way possible. I’m not sure why words are hard all of a sudden, but my brain isn’t cooperating.I force a breath through my tight chest, pressing my palms against the cool wooden bar to steady myself. “I'm actually dating someone.” I offer the words with a soft smile.
“Is that right?” His smile doesn't falter as he lays his hand over mine, his touch too familiar, as if we’re already dating and he feels entitled to invade my space. I try not to flinch, but my skin prickles with discomfort. “Well, you're worth the wait. Promise me you'll call when you're single again?” He slides a scrap of paper toward me, his digits scrawled in bold, dark strokes.
I take the paper, folding it in half and tucking it into my pocket to avoid potentially escalating the situation. This is a dance I’ve done a thousand times - smile, accept the number, dispose. Tell them my phone is locked up if they try to text or call and want me to check now so they have my number. The routine is set in stone in my mind.
“Sure, I'll do that,” I say, the words tasting bitter. Forcing a smile to my lips, I try to ignore the confidence in his eye, the sparkle that says he’s sure my boyfriend and I are just a temporary relationship that won’t last. The joke’s on him - I’m going to marry my boyfriend. I’m sure of that.
“Thanks for understanding,” I say, hoping he'll take the hint and leave me alone so I can get back to work. With a grin and a salute, he turns and walks away. I can’t help but roll my eyes even as I feel Walker’s gaze on me once again.
The moment the guy’s back turns, I lean over and drop the folded slip of paper into the trash can. Liam, ever watchful behind the bar, catches the motion and his chuckle meets my ears.
“Slick. Another one?” He seems amused as he talks, and I lift both shoulders.
“Seems like it's open season on me.” My words are light, but they must betray my weariness, because Liam’s posture shifts.
“How are things going with Chase?” His concern is genuine, carefully wrapped up behind a causal tone as he wipes a small spill with a bar towel.
I nod, pouring whiskey for a regular. With a nod and smile, I pass his drink to him, and he takes it, lifting the glass in a cheers motion before taking a seat. “As good as ever.”
“Hey, sweetheart, why don't you put on a show?” a man asks, his voice slurring as he lunges across the bar at me. Clearly, he has more alcohol in his system than sense. My lip curls, but this isn’t the first time I’ve heard something along those same lines.
“Time to leave, buddy.” Liam sounds furious, but he keeps his temper under control. “Or do you want to meet the security team?”
The weight of the threat seems to be all it takes to have the man staggering off, and I give Liam a grateful glance. Frustration still simmers in my gut as I wonder why anyone would behave that way. Nobody asks my male counterparts to put on a show, except that one time a bachelorette party rolled through and got a little out of hand. I’m not stupid, I understand the why, it’s just annoying that people assume I’m ready and willing to do whatever they want to make sure they have a good time. It’s gross.
My gaze drifts across the room, locking onto Walker once more. The heat in his stare somehow seems more intense, almost protective. The man is confusing.
“What's his story?” I know what they say about curiosity, but I want to know more than the shallow stories about the man. Like, how is it that Walker manages to be part of the shadows and set apart from them?
Liam's eyebrows hike up, his lips twitching like he can’t believe I’m asking such a stupid question. “You don't know?” he asks, as if I've missed the obvious gossip. “Other than the fact that he’s in here with a different woman every single night?”
“I know he's a player; that's not news.” My words are alight with humor as my attention splits between Liam and the man in question—Walker. His dark gaze is still fixed on me. He’s unrelenting, as if he’s trying to hold a silent conversation with me, one I’m both interested in and terrified of.
The woman at his side might as well be invisible to him. He isn’t talking to or looking at her, and she’s sipping a drink, looking around the room at anyone but him, smiling at strangers, searching for companionship in the bar while her date ignores her. And she’s model- or actor-beautiful. I can’t imagine why he wouldn't be focused on her, especially when any guy in the place would happily steal her away. Then again, maybe none would dare.
I can see her disinterest in her expression as she scans the room for any distraction from his intense stare that’s been locked on me since they arrived. I feel bad for her - I can’t imagine how soul-crushing it must be to show up on the arm of a man who stares at another woman all night.
He doesn’t so much as glance her way, his focus sharp, almost predatory. It sends an unfamiliar shiver down my spine—both thrillingly exciting and terrifying.
Liam leans in, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, his voice pulling me back to the conversation. “He’s trouble,” he says, and I can hear the capital “T” even though he doesn't say it aloud. “Former gang member, talks with his fists, is a real pain in the ass.”
My pulse throbs in my ears. I’ve heard of the fights Walker started, and I know he also always ends them. Liam sounds more annoyed than anything, and I don’t blame him.
But as Walker studies me, I can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he’s misunderstood.
“He's rude, no one likes him, he's a womanizer, no one but you will serve him,” Liam continues, ticking off Walker's sins like they're items on a grocery list.
