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“Looks like you have some fans,” she whispers, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
“I only have eyes for one girl, and I'm staring right at her.” I make sure to lock eyes with hers, and when that blush deepens, I know I made the impact I wanted. “How's your night been?” I ask, just wanting to hear her talk.
“Busy. One of my waitresses called in, so I’m pretty much all by myself until closing.” The stress of the night is evident in the corners of her eyes and the way she slumps forward while we talk.
“Do you need any help?” I offer, knowing I have minimal experience but wanting to take some of the burden from her.
“Have you tended a bar before?” I shake my head. “Poured drinks?” Again, another shake of the head. “What about serving food?” I smile as I shake my head one last time. “And so, how would you be able to help me?” She has a point, and I laugh under my breath.
“Touché, Miss O’Malley.”
“You would do it anyway, wouldn't you?” Confusion mars my features as she shakes her head. “Help. You would help, even if you had no idea what you're doing.”
“Of course. You need help. I'm here.”
“Simple as that?” she questions, watching me carefully, wondering if I’m being sincere.
I tilt my head and study her for a second. Her green eyes, although tired, shine as they flicker across my face. “Simple as that.”
She takes one last look at me before taking the rag from her shoulder and wiping down the bar in front of us.“You're not what I expected,” she murmurs.
I wonder if she meant to say that part out loud. But when her eyes meet mine, I can see that she's waiting for my reaction.“What were you expecting?” Curiosity is getting the better of me, and I have a feeling I know what she's going to say, but I patiently wait to hear the words from her lips.
“In high school, you were always so untouchable, so I guess I didn't expect you to be this...nice.”
I smile, dipping my head for a split second before lifting it once more.“I’m usually not this nice,” I admit, and it's the truth. I'm not an asshole, but I'm not one to go out of my way to help someone I don't care about.
“Why me?” she asks.
I take in her sad eyes and the embarrassed edge to her voice, and I fall for her just a little bit more.“I told you yesterday, I like you.”
The blush returns and causes my body to respond and thank God I'm standing behind the bar because if not, I would have given her a sight she isn't ready for.
“Quinn, let me take you out. Let me show you that I'm not the guy you thought I was.”
For a split second, I think I get through to her, but then she shakes her head, and I know I still have some work to do.
“Sorry, Wes, I can't.”
“Fair enough. Can I have two more beers?”
Her eyes widen at my abrupt change in subject.“That's it? You're not going to ask again?” she says while getting the beers out of the fridge behind her.
“I never said that. I'll be back tomorrow.” I give her one last wink and head back to my table, trying my hardest not to look back.
Although I can feel her eyes on me the whole way, I ignore the urge to turn around, wrap my hands around her neck and pull her into me. But I stay my course, not glancing her way until I'm seated, and when I catch her eye, I'm not disappointed. The desire in her eyes is something I know well because it's the same desire I see every time I look in the mirror and think about her.
I just need to be a little more convincing.
