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“Fuck, Kay…” Kieran runs a frustrated hand through his hair, and I can tell he’s struggling to keep his anger in check.
Good, let it out like me, let it loose, take it out on me, I deserve it…
“Marcus really did a number on you, didn’t he?” There’s sympathy in the look he gives me. No, something even worse, actually.Pity.
“Fuck you, Kieran.”
“You were always the softest between the two of us, the most vulnerable. I knew it was why mom protected you so strongly against him. You didn’t deserve how he treated you. Trashing your room, destroying your guitars, destroying any and all chance at happiness for you. But he’s dead now, Kay. You can move on, build a life for yourself, fall in love with someone, make life worth living.”
“What an inspirational speech. You should start a podcast.” I toss back the rest of the whiskey, already feeling its warming effects and my inhibitions softening at the edges.
Something cracks in Kieran’s face, a fissure in an otherwise stoic expression. There’s a softening in his eyes and, for a moment, I can see why Nyla fell in love with him so quickly. And then helaughs, a loud, interruptive sound that causes the swiveling of a few heads of the bar’s other patrons.
“You’re such a fucking dick, you know that?” Kieran laughs into his glass as he takes another sip, seemingly unphased by my bullying rhetoric now. “Nyla tells me you’ve got eyes for your co-worker.”
That observant little tattling minx.
“Well then she’s blind, because I don’t.” The image of Talia from the night before, legs spread open wide underneath me as she looks at me with heavy, pleasure-lidded eyes, pops into my head. My cock hardens, but something warm spills into my chest, too, at the memory of her looking at my mother’s paintings with awe, of her looking atmewith awe.
“You can bring her to our engagement party next weekend. That’s what I came here to invite you to.”
“By Nyla’s recommendation, I’m sure.”
Kieran rises from his seat. “Come. Or think about it. Or don’t. But I’d like you there.” He clasps a hand over my shoulder. “I hope you’ll allow us to put the past behind us. I’m going to need a best man.”
I raise a brow. “I’m surprised one of your uppity friends isn’t your best man already.”
“I was waiting for you, you dumb ass.” He leaves, and I’m left to contend with a myriad of feelings which I drown in another glass of whiskey.
Only after which I realize my brother stuck me with the bill.
Chapter Fourteen: Talia
Club music pounds in my ears as I work the bar on a busy Friday night. The bartenders bailed.Again.We really need to find better bartenders. You wouldn’t think it would be a difficult job to fill, given the simplicity of it, the pay we offer,andthe tips from Midnights’ patrons, but lo and behold, here I am, working below my pay grade.
I pour another vodka soda for yet another scantily clad girl with an outrageously high, slicked back ponytail. “Thanjoo,” she slurs at me, black lined eyes drooping heavily, most likely high on something. A burly man in a really deep cut v-neck comes up behind her and pulls her back against his front, dragging her away to the dance floor as her drink sloshes over the rim onto her hand. She squeals as he buries his face in her neck.
“Malibu’s finest,” I mumble to myself, the music too loud for anyone to hear. A strike of jealousy still flashes through me as the drunken couple lock eyes and grind on the dance floor. I blow air into my cheeks, tearing my eyes away from them.
Drink orders keep pouring in. It’s a busy night, and I have one other bartender working with me, the only one that didn’t bale. Bea is a gorgeous, forty-year-old, no-nonsense woman who does great with the bar scene, but isn’t good with numbers. She’s been part of the problem with the inventory, but she keeps the bar under control when it gets rowdy, and so far, we haven’t had to hire a bouncer.
Kay is usually scary enough for that.
On nights like these, Gia requires everyone on staff to be here to make sure the night goes smoothly.
“Our biggest money-making nights are our most important ones.” Gia’s obvious statement was always dripping with condescension. “So everyone helps out, including management. We’re not here to make a pretty buck and walk away just yet. We get out of it what we put into it.”
Our fearless leader is ever the pep talker, and also a busy bee out on the floor, strutting to and fro, making sure every corner and every avenue was going smoothly. Right now, she’s hovering over tonight’s featured DJ. His mixes are alright, but by the look on Gia’s face, I can tell she thinks even less of his work.
I find my gaze roaming, looking for Kay as I continue to pour drinks, not finding him in his usual corner sipping on a glass of something obscenely strong on the rocks. After our night together, my head hasn’t stopped spinning, and I haven’t stopped being constantlyarousedthinking about him. The feel of him. The taste of him. How I want to tastemoreof him. Feel him stretch me out again…
“Whoa, hey!” Bea’s rumbling voice breaks me out of my reverie, and I realize I’ve just overpoured gin all over the counter. “You good there, honey?”
“Yeah.” I frantically reach for a towel, heat rising up my neck, both from the embarrassment of being so occupied in thought by Kay that I just dumped gin all over the counter, and the fact that I’m thinking about Kay naked. Tossing the soaked towel aside, I assure Bea, “Good. Just a busy night,” but even I’m not convinced by myself.
“If you need a break, I can hold down the fort,” Bea offers as she shakes a drink.
“Actually, that might be good,” I admit, suddenly feeling dizzy. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
