“Hey, TJ.” Hayden glances at me. “This is Riley. She’s my…friend.”
It’s true, even if I wish we were more. At least he didn’t refer to me as his best friend’s little sister this time.
“It’s very nice to meet you.”
He gives me a once-over as he shakes my hand. “The pleasure is all mine.” To Hayden, he says, “Ready for your shift?”
Frowning, I look from one man to the other.Shift? What is he talking about?
“Two hours. That’s it.”
“Whatever works for you. I’ll be forever in your debt.” TJ shuffles back to the bar.
Hayden turns to me, giving me a wry smile. “I promised I’d help create some buzz. He talked me into bartending for two hours. After that, I’m all yours.” He ducks his head, his expression suddenly serious. “Will you sit at the bar? Hang out near me?”
I scan the space and notice several women already eyeing him. The green monster rears its ugly head.
“Sure.”
“You’re the best.” He guides me to an empty stool, and when I’m settled, he plants a kiss on my cheek.
It’s a damn good thing I’m sitting, because the way my legs weaken in response to that simple gesture is sickening.
“What are you drinking?”
“Rum and Coke.”
“Rum and Coke it is.” With a wink, he darts around the bar.
For the next two hours,I sip on my drink and people-watch. The crowd grows, and I hear several people say they found out Hayden was here because they saw him on friends’ and influencers’ Instagram Stories.
I have to hand it to TJ: asking Hayden to tend the bar was genius.
By my third drink, the jealousy I’ve been fighting all night flares brighter. He smiles at one customer after another, flirting, bantering, winking. He’s a natural charmer. No wonder he has so many fans—so many groupies. His magnetic energy is infectious. It makes it impossible not to look at him. With nothing more than a smile and a greeting, he makes people feel attractive and desired.
And fuck, if it doesn’t makehimeven more attractive and desirable.
He moves quickly, pouring drinks with precision, flashing smiles to customers. He looks alive, brighter than he has in months. There’s a glint in his eye again, and his cheeks are pink with excitement and exertion.
This Hayden disappeared the day Owen died. This is the Hayden I’ve known my whole life. The life of the party. The flirt. The heart-stopper.
From time to time, I catch his eye. He smiles and winks, silently letting me know he hasn’t forgotten about me.
“Damn, the guy’s got charisma,” a man to my left says.
I turn toward the voice and find a pair of dark green eyes watching me. They’re not the same color as Hayden’s, but they’re close. He’s probably in his thirties, and his smile is bright, showing off perfectlystraight white teeth. He’s in a white tee and blue jeans, a simple, relaxed look.
“I’ve been watching the way he works the crowd. He knows what he’s doing,” the guy tells me.
“Yeah, he knows how to attract attention,” I reply, surveying Hayden again.
The man shifts closer and leans against the bar, facing me. “What about you? Do you know how toattract attention?”
I grin. I can’t denyhisattention is flattering. “It depends.”
“On what?”
“On whose attention I want to attract.”
