Chapter Eight
Helpless to resistthe pull, Morgan went back to Carter’s. She'd avoided everyone for a week after her last encounter with Ryder, only going to work and keeping her head down. She'd basically molested him, which made her no better than her tutor. He was a virgin, for fuck’s sake, and she’d just forced herself on him because he kept refusing her, and that made him more irresistible than any drug.
She wanted to apologize. He was not like other guys, and she hated herself for treating him as though he were. Morgan walked into the bar with her head held high, emboldened by the liquor she’d already consumed earlier in the evening. She saw the other bartender, whose name she thought was Cooper, and walked to that end of the bar.
She didn’t see Ryder, but there was some guy already leering at her as she sat three stools away from him.
“Hey, who are you?” he asked, looking at her cleavage as he spoke.
He was exactly who she would usually flirt with, asking him to take her back to his place at the end of the night. Now, he made her sick.
Ignoring him, she called, "Bartender!”
Frowning, the man behind the bar glanced at her curiously. “It's Cooper. What can I get for you?”
“Where’s Ryder?” she demanded impatiently.
Cooper frowned. “He took a week off. Didn’t he tell you?”
“No, or I wouldn’t be fucking asking for him,” she snapped, then sighed. Closing her eyes, she considered her options. “Sorry, I just wanted to apologize for the way we left things, that’s all.” She stood, turning toward the door. Then she thought better of it and turned back around. “Could you give him a message for me?”
“Sure, I’ll pass it on.”
“Tell him I’m looking for him, and give him my number, please.” She scribbled her name and number on a cocktail napkin and handed it to Cooper. The patron leaned over, snatching it from Cooper’s hand.
“Awesome, you’re handing out your digits?”
“Listen up, cuntface. I wouldn’t give you my number if you were the last fucking guy in here, so how about you hand that napkin back to Cooper before I punch you in the balls!”
“Ooh, a feisty one!” he jeered.
At the sound of the music cutting off, they turned simultaneously to see Lillie striding over with a baseball bat in her hands. She took one look at Morgan before letting her gaze slide over the sleazy guy.
Sneering, Lillian leaned in close and sniffed deeply. "Smells like a douche, acts like a douche."
"Must be a douche," Morgan finished.
"This guy giving you a hard time?"
Shaking his head, the man licked his lips. "N-no."
"He took what wasn't his." Morgan crossed her arms. "Give the napkin back to Cooper."
Lillie raised her eyebrow, tapping the end of the bat on the wood floor. "Do I need to repeat the instructions?"
Without a word, he let the napkin flutter to the floor before dashing out the door.
"Sorry about that," Lillie said, bending to retrieve the napkin.
"Sorry to be a pain in the ass," Morgan mumbled.
"I don't allow that type of behavior in my bar under any circumstances, Shorty."
"Why did you have to pick up Hannah's nickname for me?" Morgan grumbled as she accepted the napkin from Lillie and handed it back to Coop.
"Because that's all she calls you. I barely know your real name."
"Morgan. It's Morgan."
