Apparently, they had the same effect today. My heart fluttered, and my nerves whizzed, a mere look sparking them to life.
That level of hotness should’ve been illegal.
Behind him, the crowd part like a wave, as if a predator walked among them and they scurried out of its way. I dragged my eyes away from Ethan.
The nerves grew wings as Karson moved into view. Masculinity oozed from him like a potent cocktail. He was tall, broad shoulders, narrow hips, and long legs. He wore a fitted black T-shirt, and the fabric clung to his muscled chest. His face was almost perfection—a strong, chiseled jaw, silky smooth skin, and lips which were full and soft. The kind of lips begging to be kissed.
He slid in beside Ethan, and his gaze latched onto mine. His wasn’t filled friendliness. He studied me with a question—no, a discontent—in his dark eyes.
My stomach flipped and I darted my gaze away, blushing of course.
I spent the next hour or so deliberately clinging to the far end of the bar. I avoided looking in their direction, although I was always acutely aware of them, I could feel eyes watching my every move as if he was waiting for an excuse to fire me. I felt a strange shaky high, that was both perplexing and annoying.
“Swap ends, Amy,” Grace said casually, but she threw me an apologetic smile.
I frowned. I wasn’t keen to be anywhere near either of the men at the end of the bar. I had little option, though; Grace had moved down and was serving at my end. Reluctantly I headed in their direction, stopping around the middle of the bar to delay the process for as long as possible.
A very drunk twenty-something with brown wavy hair and a round face was leaning heavily on his forearms on the bar, waiting to be served. I ignored him and served the two blond girls standing beside him.
“Two raspberry vodkas,” one of the blonds said, revealing lipstick-stained teeth.
I grabbed the bottles, untwisted the lids, and slid them over. I held my hand out, waiting for the girl to extract her money from a little black coin purse. Her manicured nails were so long it was hard to use her fingers. Combined with the alcohol, it was like watching a two-year-old trying to navigate a zipper for the first time.
The drunk guy’s sweaty hand wrapped around my wrist. I should have known better than to hold my hand out. It was a rookie mistake, one of the first things I’d learned in training, and a mistake I’d made once before. It had ended with my palm planted into the bridge of the man’s nose.
I surveyed him; he looked like he’d only just breached the walls of his mother’s birth canal. His eyelids hung at half-mast, and his pupils struggled to maintain focus. Even his smile was crooked, as if the alcohol had dulled one side of his face. I attempted to pull my hand away from his grasp, but he held fast, surprisingly strong for a guy so drunk.
“Let gonow,” I demanded.
“You’re hot,” he slurred. “I think we should fff . . .”
His words died on his lips as fingers gripped into the indent below the guy’s collarbone. He cried out and buckled to the side.
“I believe the lady told you to let go,” Karson said. His voice was calm, low and polished, but it left little doubt he expected to be obeyed.
The young man winced, releasing my wrist.
Karson’s knuckles whitened. “Now say sorry.” He spoke each word slightly punctuated with a faintly accented tone I couldn’t place.
The guy whined and tilted sideways. A bead of sweat rose on his brow. “Sorry, sorry!” he cried.
“If you ever speak to her like that again”—his voice dropped to a growl, chilling my spine—“I’m going to tear yourtongue from your mouth and feed it to you. Do I have your understanding?”
The guy gulped and nodded frantically. Karson released him. A blond clutched the guy’s arm, throwing Karson a sharp look as she dragged him away.
Karson’s eyes fixed casually on mine. They were hazel, with a ring of brown around his pupils. Not simply brown like I’d first thought. He had the kind of eyes that seemed to go beyond the depths of what was ordinary, as if they held a thousand stories buried beneath a sheath of green.
And I wanted to read all the pages.
He was unnaturally gorgeous.
My heart began to beat fast, and a rush of something like desire burst through me.Danger,my mind whispered,step back.My traitorous body ached to step in. I planted my feet, so I didn’t lean closer, melt into him, have those fingers slip around my back, feel his lips on my throat.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
A lazy smirk edged the corner of his lips as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.
Annoyance at my reaction flared in my veins. I took a deep breath and lifted my chin. “Thank you for your help, but I could have sorted him out on my own.”
