“Is that what you were doing when you dropped the drink in his lap?” I ask her. “Handling it yourself?”
“It slipped,” she says with a lot more tone than I would have expected from a girl who I just had to personally remove from what could have escalated to a very bad situation. “And I–what are you doing?” she blurts out as I shove my shorts to the floor.
“I’m getting changed,” I tell her. “It’s not like I’m going to leave here in my fight shorts. And weareleaving here.”
She glances down at me, and I can’t miss the red flush in her cheeks. Then she shakes her head and turns her back to me. “I’m not a bad waitress,” she says.
“You know, you have a pretty funny way of saying thank you,” I retort, reaching for my pants.
The girl whips around, her gaze trailing over my body, and her eyes widen.
I narrow my eyes at her.
Something about her is vaguely familiar.
It’s hard to tell with the fake hair and the ten pounds of makeup, though.
When she catches me staring, she turns around again.
It’s kinda funny. I’m not used to women shying away from me, or talking back, or hiding their face. I’m sure she wasn’t expecting me to strip in front of her, but I still find it cute that she is doing everything in her powernotto check me out right now.
It’s like a game.
Challenge accepted.
“You know,” I say, heading over to the shower and turning it on. “You’re not like the other girls here.”
“What do you mean–what are you doing?” She gapes as I shove my briefs to the floor.
I resist the urge to laugh.
She is standing with her back to me, her head down, her hands over her face.
“I mean, you just seem kind of out of place here,” I say as I step into the shower. “Like you don’t want to be here.”
“I’m waitressing for nasty men who grab my ass all night, and I have to let them if I want a good tip. Of course I don’t love being here,” she says.
I step under the water, wincing as it hits my brow.
“So get a new job,” I say.
“I have another job,” she snaps back.
“You hate that one too?” I ask, and she spins around with a scowl. It’s not intimidating, though. With her button nose, heart-shaped face, and pouty lips, it’s kind of cute. After a fight, ruffling this girl’s feathers is fun.
“It’s not the best,” she says, and then her eyes widen as if she realizes I am naked under the showerhead. Her eyes drag down, and even though I have my hips turned enough that I don’t think she can seeeverything, I’m sure she can seesomething.
Or at least imagine it.
She does have a full view of my ass and that is enough to turn her cheeks the color of my opponent’s boxing shorts.
“What’s wrong with that job?” I ask.
“My boss is kind of a dick,” she says.
“Sounds to me like you need to consider a career change,” I tell her, shutting the water off. “You wanna hand me a towel?”
The girl walks over to the rack and grabs a clean towel. Then she shuffles sideways, head down, and hands it to me.
