“Fuck, that’s good,” Trent says, laughing.
Jahlani nods. “I’ll grab us another round. What’s it called?”
“Green tea! But get it from the guy in the white shirt. He’s the best one.”
“That’s not very specific when there’s more than one, T.”
“He’s got the craziest eyes, like this super, intense green.” He gestures with his hands, pointing to his face rather aggressively and it makes her laugh.
Jahlani shuffles through the crowd until she reaches the counter. She looks over the menu to occupy herself.
“What are you having?” a voice asks. And maybe it’s music or the thrum of the alcohol seeping through her system, but the familiarity of his voice doesn’t register at first.
“Three green tea shots and—” Her finger glides down the menu in her hand. “I don’t know, what can you recommend?”
She looks up blinking rapidly as she absorbshimin front of her. Her eyes roam over his features, her lips parting, and the longer she stares, the more her head seems to empty.
Which seems to happen a lot these days whenever he’s around.
“Roman.”
CHAPTER 14
STRING OF THOUGHTS
JAHLANI
Roman looks different.Better.The white button-down does wonders for his chest and shoulders. The soft hue of the lighting makes his eyes appear even lighter. Trent’s description echoes through her head, and she wants to kick herself for volunteering to come over here.
She feels less irritated than she would have expected at seeing him across the counter. She feels …
Curious.
I have a daughter. She’s sick.
If he’s surprised to see her, he doesn’t show it, and that sets an acidic feeling in her stomach. Why does she care that he doesn’t acknowledge her?
He slides a swift, rehearsed smile onto his face. “Sure, three green tea shots and a lemon drop martini coming right up.”
She holds out her card with trembling fingers for him to take.
“On the house,” he says, something sharp in his eyes.
“What? No. I can pay for my own drink,” she starts, but he moves away before she can utter more protests. “Shit,” she mutters under her breath, but she can’t help the tug at the corner of her lips because what are the odds?
So, this is what you look like when you work.
She watches him from the other side of the counter. He’s smiling, charming, oozing confidence as he works his way serving patrons. For a moment, she wonders if he lied to her earlier. He doesn’t look like someone who is carrying so much weight. Her elbows rest on the counter, and she drops her chin in her hand as she stares, the warmth of the previous shots making her feel a little lighter.
Looser.
Exactly what she wants.
Her eyes slide over his physique as he works pouring drinks, the tension in his arms as he shakes the bottles, the way his head falls back when he laughs with the bartender to his left.
If I’m late, it’s work.
I’m attracted to you.
