His hands are everywhere, tugging at my shirt, running down my spine, squeezing my ass. My hips jerk forward on instinct, and he pushes his thigh between my legs, giving me something to grind against. A groan tears out of my throat.
But the wind cuts straight through my shirt, making me shiver against him, and this alley smells like three-day-old garbage.
I break the kiss, breathing hard, my forehead pressed against his. “Not here,” I pant. “I’m done with bathrooms and cellars and alleys. Done with sneaking around and pretending I don’t know what I want.”
“Yeah?” He pulls back just enough to look at me. “And what do you want, Calvin?”
I grab him by the jacket and pull him toward the door. “I want you to bend me over the fucking bar.”
9
The door swings open, and I walk back in, Brock right behind me.
Roxy’s still collecting glasses, her back half turned to us. She glances over her shoulder, sees me, and then does a double-take when she spots Brock standing there. “Calvin, I swear to God, will you finally tell me what the hell is going on tonight?”
And I do. Not with words.
I grab Brock by the front of his jacket and pull him in, kissing him right there in the middle of the bar. I pour everything into it. My desperation, my confusion, my want. All of it. No more hiding.
When I pull back, Roxy’s standing there, tray in hand, mouth slightly open.
“This,” I say, breathless. “This is what’s been going on.”
She looks from me to Brock, then back again. I see the moment it clicks. The disappearances. The wet spot. The way I dragged him down to the cellar the second she started flirting with him. A slow grin spreads across her face.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she says, setting the tray down. “The great Calvin finally meets his match. And it’s a dude. I never would have guessed.” She looks Brock up and down with that glint in her eye. “I have to say, you have excellent taste in men.”
Brock puts an arm around me and presses a kiss to my temple. “So do I.”
“Okay, stop being cute. It’s making me nauseous.” She laughs. “No, but seriously, Cal. I’m happy for you. Just next time you have a sexual awakening in our bar, maybe give me a heads up? I was genuinely starting to worry about you.”
“Sorry, Rox. Didn’t exactly see it coming myself.”
She grabs her bag and jacket from behind the bar. “Well, I’m going to get out of here and let you two reorganize the bar supplies.” She winks. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Which, frankly, leaves you with a lot of options. But for the love of God, clean up after yourselves. I have to open tomorrow.”
“Do I ever leave a mess?”
“We both know the answer to that.” She heads for the door, then stops with her hand on the lock and turns back with a grin. “Oh, and Calvin?”
“Yeah?”
“Just so we’re absolutely clear—you lost the bet.” She points at me, green eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Which means you owe me back that fifty I sent you earlier, plus another fifty. One hundred bucks. Don’t forget.”
“Fair. I lost. Spectacularly.” I pull out my phone, my fingers flying across the screen. “Here you go, winner. And Rox? Sorry for lying to you all night.”
“Please.” She waves a hand. “I don’t care about that. But you’re never, ever going to hear the end of this. I’m talking years of material here.”
I look at Brock. Then back at her. “Yeah,” I say. “I think I can live with that.”
She shakes her head, still laughing as she lets herself out, leaving us in the sudden ringing silence of the empty bar.
“Is it always like that with her?” Brock asks, his arm still around my waist.
“Worse, usually.” I turn in his arms and loop mine around his neck. “But she’s right. I lost that bet fair and square.” I lean in, my lips brushing against his. “And I’m really, really glad I did.”
“Yeah?” His hands slide down my back and cup my ass. “Good thing I’m here to make it worth it.”
“Honestly, losing never felt this good.”
