I twist around to see Oscar strolling behind the bar with his hands behind his back. “Snuck you something from the kitchen.”
I raise an eyebrow. Oscar is always up to something he shouldn’t be doing. He’s the nicest guy in the world, if a little chaotic, but I dig him. He looks so clean-cut on the outside with his sandy-brown hair and warm smile, like an adult boy scout, but he’s one of the most impulsive and adventurous guys I’ve ever met. His rep as the thrill seeker is well earned.
“What did you get?”
He presents a hand, and in it is what appears to be a small ball of chocolate. “Chef made these. I’m not telling you what’s in it. You just have to try it.”
“I’m down.” I grab it and pop it into my mouth, my eyes widening as it melts and an explosion of flavors assaults my tongue. “Whoa. What is that?”
“Marshmallow cream and banana puree with peanut butter milk chocolate.” He looks around like he’s got a huge secret. “Don’t tell Howie, but Brady is making welcome truffles for the weekend guests. He thinks it’ll create a nice memory for them, and they’ll come back.”
I nod. “Those are phenomenal.”
He waggles his eyebrows. “I know. He’s so talented.”
“I agree. I could make myself sick eating those.”
Oscar laughs. “Same.” He leans on the counter in front of me, effectively blocking my ability to make drinks. “When are you gonna let me take you out to get blasted and laid?”
I shake my head, pushing him to the side so I can finish washing the glasses. “Someday.”
“Pshh. You always say that.” His eyes shift to the patio. “Who’s that?”
I look in the direction, shrugging. “Just a guest, I suppose. He’s been on his phone for a while.”
“He’s hot.”
I look again, focusing on the man. From here, all I can see is his blond hair and great body. That’s a nice bubble butt filling out those shorts. “Not bad.”
“Dibs.”
I elbow Oscar.
He scrunches his nose. “Ouch.”
“You can’t call dibs on a guest.”
“Uh, yeah, those are the rules. Fitz said so.”
“Fitz? Mr. Uptight? The guy who would never date a guest?”
“That’s the one. He said it’s only fair.”
I shake my head, rubbing my hands on a towel. “Fine. You can have dibs. I’m not interested anyway.”
Oscar rolls his eyes and looks thoroughly disgusted with me. “This isn’t about homeboy still, is it?”
I wipe the counter, even though it’s already clean. Anything to avoid this topic.
“Tig? Is it?”
“It takes time to get over people.”
“It’s been a year.”
Actually, it’s been thirteen months and two weeks, but I’ll keep that to myself.
“I’ll know when I’m ready. Casual flings with guests aren’t really my thing anyway.”
