His mouth curves. “Your face is perfect.”
“Smooth-talker.”
“Only for you.”
I laugh softly, and he kisses me once more, a quick, possessive brush that makes my knees wobble.
Then he opens the door and slips out, leaving me in the office with my heartbeat and the faint echo of music through the walls.
My knees are finally stopping their shaking as I step into the bathroom.
I splash cool water on my wrists, then my cheeks. I pull my hair back into a ponytail and stare at myself in the mirror like I’m trying to make sure I’m still me.
My lips are swollen.
My eyes are bright.
I look good and truly satisfied. Which makes sense. I was just thoroughly fucked by the sexiest man I’ve ever known.
I turn my face from side to side, looking for any other hints of what just happened. Unlike Jesse, I don’t have a large, red mark on my neck. But I still look… different. Pleased.
I look so damn happy, I could cry.
A stall door clicks open behind me, distracting me from my study.
I glance up and see a young woman step out. Early twenties, maybe. Cute outfit that looks carefully chosen, but herexpression doesn’t match it. Her shoulders are tense. Her gaze darts around like she’s searching for exits. She goes straight to the sink, washing her hands with quick, jittery movements.
I offer her a small smile. “Hey.”
She hesitates, then nods. “Hey.”
I can tell she wants to say something and doesn’t know how.
I dry my hands slowly, giving her space.
Finally, she blurts, “Can I ask you a weird question?”
“Sure,” I say gently.
Her eyes flick to the door again. “Do you… do you know the bartender here?”
I think of Jesse. Of Lou. Of Marcy. “Yeah. Why?”
She swallows. “There’s a guy out there who won’t leave me alone.”
My stomach drops.
“I told him no.” Her voice wobbles, anger and fear twisted together. “Like… clearly. More than once. He just keeps hovering. Keeps ‘joking.’ Keeps touching my arm like I owe him a conversation.”
Heat flares in my chest. Protective, immediate.
“That’s not okay,” I say firmly.
“I know.” She lets out a shaky breath. “I tried to move tables. I tried to go to the other side of the bar. He followed me. I came in here because I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You did the right thing,” I say. “Is he alone?”
“I think so.” She chews her lip. “He’s kind of… loud. Dark jacket. Slick hair. Keeps acting like he’s the funniest guy in the room.”
