“I bet I could get you to make some noise,” he said.
Then he bit down on his thumb, and he grinned at me again.
Oh hell.
“I should get going,” I said quickly. I felt trapped between the wall and Gunner, and something about that was making me feel all kinds of weird ways.
At least I wasn’t crying anymore.
Anyway, I had work to do, deadlines to manage at my library job, and errands waiting on my to-do list. I was a responsible person, and I did not have time to stand on a street corner while some ridiculously hot guy with a scary vibe played cat-and-mouse with me.
“I get it, Malcolm.” He said my name like he was saying a dirty word.Malcolm. “You’ve got your nice white collared shirt, pressed and tucked into your pants. You’ve got your thick glasses and your perfect loafers without a scuff on them. And now you’re looking at me, and you’re looking at that bar, and you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared.” I said it quickly, almost like I was snapping at him. I always got flustered when strangers acted like they knew me.
Especially when they were right.
Gunner held his hands in the air like he was surrendering, then licked his lips. “Scared, but feisty.”
“I’m not scared,” I repeated. “There’s nothing to be scared of. It’s just a bar. I’ve been in a bar before, Gunner.”
It was true. There was one gay bar in town where I used to go with the last guy I dated and another little café I liked to frequent on the weekends. I guess technically the café wasn’t a bar in the traditional sense, but they had a full liquor menu, and I always ordered a glass of wine with my meal.
“If you’re not scared, then prove it.”
“Prove it?”
“I dare you to come in and get a drink with me.”
I cleared my throat. “You dare me?” I said skeptically. “Listen, I’m sure it’s, like, your favorite bar—”
“I’ve never been there before,” he interrupted. He took another small step forward, and when I stepped back, my whole body pressed against the wall.
“Then why are you here?” I asked.
“You’re looking for an apartment. I’m looking for a job.”
“At this place?”
He shrugged. “Sure. What, you don’t think I look like a bartender?”
It wasn’t that he didn’t look like a bartender. From his unkempt black hair to the slight shadow of stubble on his jaw, I was sure he would look comfortable spinning bottles and slinging drinks. I just would have pictured him charming the regulars at some gay bar with his cocky, flirty winks. As I watched a gruff, silver-haired man wander into the Steel Rose, I couldn’t help but think Gunner just looked a little…youngfor that place.
I blinked, trying not to get distracted again by the way his jeans hugged his thighs. “Sure,” I said. “You totally look like you could work at this bar.”
His grin got bigger when I said it, like I had just given him the biggest compliment in the world. “Come on then, Malcolm,” he said, turning toward the door with a wink. “Check out my new place of employment with me.” He paused in the doorway. “I double dog dare you,” he added with a sparkle in his eye.
And damn it if he wasn’t so damn full of himself, I followed him right inside.
