“He doesn’t have much of a say in what I do.” Lucian drew a lowball glass from beneath the counter. Three whiskey stones clinked against the bottom of the glass, but Lucian still didn’t break eye contact. “I do what I want. I’m not the kind of guy who lets an imaginary boyfriend runmylife.”
The other corner of Marcus’ lip lifted, and he grinned in full. “I can see why Clarissa broughtyouon.”
“Is she in the habit of hiring men with imaginaryboyfriends?”
“No.” Marcus grinned. “Because you’re a week into your job and you already know my order byheart.”
Lucian’s heart skipped a beat, and he found himself unable to look away from Marcus’ eyes. The lust he’d seen in Marcus’ expression hadn’t disappeared like he’d originally thought—it had leeched into the air. Lucian felt it stretch his lungs and pad his skin,intoxicatinghim.
It was the heat. It was the heat.It wastheheat.
“Some men are more memorable than others,” Lucian remarked when he’d regained himself. The lust didn’t only affect his body—it stuffed his thoughts and slowed his wits. “I guess you madethecut.”
“I’m the kind of man you will never forget.” Marcus’ words sank straight through Lucian and filled him deep, and for a delirious moment, he considered leaning across the bar to see what other delights he could chase from Marcus’ lips. Before he gave in, he turned and pulled the Knob Creek bourbon from the back shelf. Marcus eyed him from behind, and Lucian spent longer than he should have with his back turned, adjusting to the feeling of being watched while he fitted the pour spout onto thebottle.
Lucian knew what it felt like to be ogled. But Marcus? Marcus didn’t look at him with savage lust or crude intent. Marcus looked at him like he was a person—like they wereequals—and that spoke to Lucian on a level he’d never beforeacknowledged.
When Lucian turned, his head was still fuzzy, but his tongue was ready with an answer. “And if you’re at The Shepherd chatting up the bartender instead of looking for companionship, I guess this is the kind of night you hope you’ll neverremember.”
Marcus laughed. He leaned forward on his elbows, his hands braced on his forearms. Lucian did his best not to look too long into his dark eyes. “I don’t think all the alcohol on the back wall could make me forgettonight.”
“Why’s that?” Lucian tipped the bottle and poured the shot in front of Marcus. He watched the amber liquid spill forth, but beyond it, all he saw was the man with theburninggaze.
“Because you remembered me.” Marcus’ mouth curled with impish delight. “The least I could do is rememberyouback.”
Lucian righted the bottle. He returned the bourbon to the shelf, glad for the excuse to turn away. His cheeks burned. Despite the dim lights, he was sure that he looked every bit as flustered ashefelt.
Mindless sex was one thing, but this? This was a creature all on its own, and while Lucian recognized what was going on, he didn’t have the experience necessary to tame the way it madehimfeel.
His heat sure as shit wasn’thelping.
“Where’s Clarissa tonight?” Marcus asked when there was silence. “I’m not used to a night at The Shepherdwithouther.”
“She’s taking her break before the rush hits,” Lucian said. He kept watch on Marcus from the corner of his eye as he scrubbed down the back counter. It was in a perpetual state of sticky that not even Clarissa’s excessive cleanliness could remedy for long. “She’ll bebacksoon.”
“I was hoping you mightsaythat.”
“Why?” Lucian looked over his shoulder, brows knit in confusion. That wasn’t the kind of response he’d beenexpecting.
Marcus lifted his glass and drained the rest of his bourbon. When he set the glass back down, he leaned back. The lights shone on his bourbon-wetted lips. “Because it’d be a shame for you to be stuck behind the counter all night when I’m sitting all the way over there, desperately in need of anotherdrink.”
Every word Marcus said, he said with cool confidence that Lucian couldn’t hope to match. There was electricity between them, a stunning kind of back-and-forth that flooded Lucian’s senses and astonished him with itsintensity.
Tongue too heavy to reply, Lucian met Marcus’ eye a final time. Marcus held his gaze for a prolonged moment—long enough for the tension between them to swell—before he stood and crossed the bar as though nothing at all had happenedbetweenthem.
Lucian knew better than that. Somethinghadhappened, and the erratic beating of his heart would never let himforgetit.
* * *
“Can you bus booth five, Lucian?”Clarissa struck a match. Flame burst into life, and she exposed it to the top of the shot she’d just prepared. The young man across from her—Adrian—grinned at the alpha he’d dragged along tothebar.
“Booth five?” Lucian looked across the room. Booth five was where Marcus had been sitting. Lucian had been ferrying drinks to him all night, but now the booth was empty. “I… yeah. I’monit.”
“Thanks.” She was already on to pouring the next order. “And when you get back, I’ll have the drink order for table threeready.”
“Got it,” Lucian said, but he was only half-listening. He studied the empty booth across the room with confusion. He’d been watching on and off throughout the night, waiting to see if he could catch Marcus lookinghisway.
Hehadn’t.
