He nodded, then took a drink of his beer. It left a little foam on the top of his lip, perched there like he was daring me to reach out and wipe it off.
So I reached out and wiped it off. What else was I supposed to do? His lips were so soft against my thumb, I would have thought I was stroking a piece of velvet. It’s when I licked the foam off my thumb that I really got my reward, though.
Malcolm let out a little whimper.
He likes it.
“What about you?” he asked, leaning up against the bar awkwardly and looking flushed. “What do you do?”
“I tear shit down,” I said, gulping from my beer. “I’m on a crew, and we deconstruct old warehouses, factories, industrial equipment, that kind of thing.”
“Wow,” he said, looking sincerely impressed. “That’s not the kind of thing I could do. It sounds…” He trailed off, his finger making a little circle in the air while he tried to find the right word.
“It’s fucking fun, is what it is,” I finished for him, taking another gulp from my drink. “You should see some of the equipment we use, too.”
“Like what?”
“Everything from a wrecking ball to a rotary hammer,” I answered.
His eyes lit up. “That’s amazing. Using that kind of specialized technical equipment requires so much training. Your crew must have a lot of respect to let you use a wrecking ball. That sounds really dangerous.”
I cleared my throat. “The first time you see a wrecking ball in person, it almost looks small. But then you see the kind of damage it does.” I let out a slow whistle. “It’s not something you’ll forget anytime soon.”
I didn’t tell him that the first time I saw a wrecking ball in person was also the last time I saw one in person. There was a different crew that handled the big jobs. Most of our work had more to do with tearing down moldy plaster than with crashing through industrial lots, but every now and then, we helped out with the kind of job I was describing. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell him thatspark plugwas usually relegated to cleanup duty and nail removal.
We chatted a little more, with me tossing flirtations his way and Malcolm looking scandalized and taken aback every time. I could have sworn steam was going to start coming out of his collar—he looked so damned turned on by the whole thing. I hadn’t come across a guy who was so fun to flirt with in ages.
I definitely want to be the one to unleash on him.
A part of me started to wonder why Malcolm was sticking around for so much of my bullshit in the first place. A dare might have gotten him through the door, but whatever grace period that had gotten me here was nearly over. The fact that he was still sticking around meant I might actually be able to get somewhere with him.
A date and a job. That sounded like a pretty solid afternoon.
I finished my beer, and the bartender with the sexy eyes wandered back our way. Pulling myself up a little on the bar, I offered him my hand.
“Name’s Gunner,” I said.
He took it, gritting his teeth while he did. “Brick. You want another drink?”
I wasn’t sure if it was his sharp eyebrows or what, but it almost looked like Brick was glaring down at me. If a bigger guy at work started giving me that glare, I would have known to turn my eyes to the ground and avoid the trouble. With Malcolm across from me, though, I didn’t want to give an inch.
“Actually,” I said, puffing up my chest a little, “I’m looking for a job. You hiring?”
He cocked an eyebrow back my way. “What, you want to work here?”
“Yeah,” I said, “I want to bartend, if you’re hiring.”
Brick chuckled, shaking his head back and forth as though he didn’t believe it. “Trust me, kid,” he said, turning to walk back down the bar. “This isn’t the place for you.”
I opened my mouth to object, but he was already done with me. I felt a wave of anger and frustration, and all my muscles tensed up. The asshole didn’t even consider me or ask if I had any experience. He just dismissed me right out of hand, and that pissed me the fuck off.
Even worse than that, he did it right in front of the cutie I was trying to pick up.
What the hell.
I turned back to Malcolm, swallowing my anger in an attempt to keep it cool. I ran a hand through my hair, then cleared my throat one more time. “No big thing,” I said. “I got some other places in mind.”
I tried to read his expression and figure out how much face I had lost. Behind his glasses, it looked like he was trying to do the same, his eyes assessing me up and down. Knowing better than to stick around when I’d just been embarrassed, I jumped to my feet.
