I turn around, keeping my most professional bartender smile in place as I bring him his Bundaberg Rum.
“Here you are,” he takes it from me with a nod, his fingers brushing mine for half a second. Barely enough to feel, but it’s still enough to notice the electricity.
“Thanks,” his voice is low and smooth, like warm velvet. “I’m Lucas. Who might you be?”
I glance down for a second, feeling shy, and then force myself to meet his gaze. My palms are sweaty. My throat is tight.
“Camille,” I smile at him. “Nice to meet you.”
His smile? Dangerous. Perfect lips, straight white teeth, the kind of grin that could bring a girl to her knees. Yeah. I’d kiss him. No hesitation.
Snap out of it, Camille.
You’re working. And you just got out of a relationship. A bad one. The kind that made you feel small, invisible. And you’ve only just started feeling like yourself again. You’re not ready for this. Right?
Right. You promised yourself you wouldn’t get distracted—not yet.
“I better get back to it,” nodding towards the crowd behind him. “Lots of people to serve.”
“I’ll be back soon,” his eyes are still locked on mine, and then he winks.
I swear my knees go a little weak. I manage a smile—barely—and turn away before I fully combust.
From the other side of the bar, Danielle catches my eye and immediately starts making a cheeky hand gesture with her fingers—thumb and forefinger making a circle, her other pointer finger going in and out.
I choke on a laugh, rolling my eyes at her. Of course she saw our interaction. I shake it off. I’ve got the rest of the night to get through, and I cannot afford to get distracted.
Still… As I keep serving, I can’t help wondering when Lucas is coming back. And hoping it’s soon.
7
Bundaberg Rum
I walk over to the table where Tyler and his mates are sitting, trying—and failing—to wipe the smile off my face.
“Let me guess,” Tyler says, already grinning. “You met Cammie?”
I tilt my head. “Cammie? Oh Camille? You know her?”
He laughs, rubbing a hand over his chin like it’s the funniest thing. “Yeah, I know her. She’s my hairdresser. I’ve been secretly in love with her since I met her.” He presses a dramatic hand to his chest and looks up like he’s been struck by Cupid himself. I just stare at him, not knowing if he’s joking around or serious. Who knows with Tyler.
“She’s great,” he goes on. “Beautiful. Kind. But don’t even bother, bro. She just got out of a really bad relationship.”
I hold up my hands. “I didn’t say anything. Maybe I just wanna be her friend.”
Lie. Big lie. Tyler folds his arms across his chest and gives me the look, the kind that says you’re full of shit without saying a word.
“Lucas,” he says slowly, “friends don’t look at each other the way you two just did. Trust me. Give her some time before you try anything. And for the record, I got dibs when she’s ready.” He laughs like it’s a joke.
“Well,” I try to keep my tone easy going. “I only want to get to know her as a friend right now… if she wants to get to know me too.”
Tyler throws his arm around my shoulder. “It’s alright, Emerson. Chill. I was just kidding. I have my eyes on someone else.” His eyes drift to the other side of the bar to the blonde bartender.
Oh, thank God.
I lift my glass and take a quick skull of Bundaberg rum, the heat sinking through my chest.
My eyes drift back toward the bar. Toward the real life angel. Camille.
