Page 1 of Stranger to Love

Chapter 1

Alex

I hated everyone in here.

It was Saturday night, the calm before the storm. Freshers Week didn't officially start until next weekend, but plenty of university students had already swarmed in. The club was a volatile mix: jittery students playing grown-up and seasoned adults getting their last civilised fill before the freshers’ flood took over the city for the year. The music was a constant, shuddering assault, the bar already sticky with spilt booze, and I was counting down the minutes until my shift ended—a ritual of misery.

“Drink.” Mia’s voice cut through the throng as she slammed a shot glass onto the counter. I was currently leaning over the bar, trying to decipher the garbled confession of a guy slurring a request. Jack and Coke. My hands worked on autopilot, pouring his drink and flipping the card machine toward him. I looked from the shot to Mia. “Yeah—no.”

She smirked, pouring pint after pint for the sweating group of lads opposite her. “Alex, you need to loosen up. Your rigid body is scaring my tips away.” She practically yelled the accusation over the speakers.

I rolled my eyes. Everyone used card or contactless tonight; we barely saw tips anyway. I slid the shot back, but she didn’t even flinch, sliding it right back as she grinned at the lads, handing over their frothy pints. They were practically drooling. I watched her subtle theatre as I poured the next woman one of the grossest, cheapest wines we stocked. Mia passed the card machine to the lads with a not-so-subtle lip bite, and I swore one of them was having a small, ecstatic stroke.

Mia was stunning. Not nice-smile stunning. More like how-is-she-not-on-the-front-cover-of-Vogue stunning. If she turned around and told me she was actually Athena, the Greek goddess, I wouldn't have questioned it. Mia wasn’t just tall with perfect bone structure; she was strong, toned, and her rich brown skin echoed every modern depiction of the warrior goddess. No, I couldn't blame these guys for drooling, and I certainly couldn’t blame her for knowing exactly what she was doing as they all pushed crumpled notes into the tip box. She caught my eye and sent me a knowing wink. I rolled my eyes again, then grabbed the shot, downing it before turning to the next blurry-eyed patron.

Mia whooped at her success, bending over the bar herself to catch her next customer’s order.

The girl in front of me was whisper-quiet. I practically had to lean across the counter to hear her; my lack of height made nights like this a brutal workout, leaving bruises around my hips from constantly pressing forward.

“Speak up, sweetheart,” I practically bellowed, trying to rise above the din. She flushed immediately. Cute. Long blonde hair, a flowing black top with cut-out shoulders, a skirt far too short for this weather, and knee-high boots. Her face was beautiful but undeniably young—a fresh arrival. I gave her an exaggerated eyebrow raise, suggesting I’d move on if she didn’t try harder.

Her blush deepened as she bit her lip, then managed a little louder, “Malibu and lemonade... please.”

I smirked, settling back on my feet as I quickly mixed her drink. I usually poured a single unless asked, but this girl needed the confidence more than I needed the margin. I sneakily made it a double but only charged her for the single, turning the card machine to her. “Six twenty.” She tapped her phone. As I slid her the glass, I winked. “It’s a double,” and pressed a finger to my lips like we were sharing a vital secret. She blushed an impossible shade of red and practically fled, clutching the drink.

Mia leaned in as she scooped ice. “That poor girl.”

I smirked, starting on the pint for the lad now waiting. “She needed the boost.”

Mia nodded, her eyes glinting wickedly. “You planning on giving her any other boosts tonight?”

I laughed, handing the lad his drink as he dutifully chucked a quid in the tip box. I shrugged at Mia. “A little young for me.”

Mia let out a peal of laughter. “You’re young!”

“Not that young.” I rolled my eyes at her.

I quickly wiped down the counter edge—our new trainee seemed incapable of pouring a pint without bathing the bar in beer. Seriously, I hated everyone here. Okay, not Mia, but everyone else. My gaze flicked up, catching the next group striding into the light. They were older, more put together than most of the rabble tonight. One of the women in particular held my attention. Older, more mature, definitely my type. Her straight blonde hair flowed over her shoulders, and she was wearing a simple black dress, cut low enough to be enticing, but respectable enough to suggest she wasn't hunting. A gold necklace sat perfectly on her chest, the small gem catching the ridiculous strobe lights in a brief, gorgeous flash. Mia elbowed me, smirking, and nodded toward the next set of drunks waiting to order.

I sighed and snapped back into service mode. I didn't even bother arguing when Mia slid me another shot. I just downed it and carried on. She was a menace on these packed nights.

I served another five or six people before the group I noticed earlier reached me. There was an older man with round glasses and salt-and-pepper hair, another woman in an animal print top and tight jeans, and then there was the blonde. Up close, I could see a spray of freckles across her nose and hazel eyes that momentarily caught the light. We made eye contact—unprofessionally long—before I managed, “What can I get you?”

She smiled, almost knowingly, as she answered. “Two large white wines and a pint of Moretti.”

I reached for our disgustingly sweet house white, but before I could unscrew the top, an arm stretched across the bar and grabbed my bicep, stopping me. I turned instantly. The blonde cringed slightly. “Not that shit. The Sauvignon.”

I laughed, looking at her hand on my arm. She smirked before letting go. I swapped the bottle for the tolerable Sauvignon Blanc. The phantom feel of her hand lingered. Now she was my type of woman. I poured the wines and handed them to her as I drew the Moretti. The man took his pint with a nod of thanks. I typed in the order, deliberately omitting one of the large glasses of wine, and flipped the machine toward them. “Fourteen pounds.”

The blonde raised an eyebrow at me, looking down at the screen. “For all three?”

I grinned, utterly unapologetic. “No, I just forgot to ring up one of the wines.” I followed it up with a wink.

She stared at me for a beat, a slow, appreciative smile pulling at her lips before she tapped her card. Yeah, I was starting to think I didn’t hate absolutely everyone in here tonight. She took her wine with one last look before moving off with her friends toward the club's booths. I could practically feel Mia's wide grin beside me. She bumped my hip as she grabbed a glass, singing quietly, "Someone's going to get laid."

I smirked at her. Damn, I hoped so.

An hour or so later, a sudden, sharp tap on my shoulder yanked me violently out of my head. I jumped, reflexively spilling the pint I was pouring—a foamy disaster washing over the counter.