Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Guilt swam deep in my gut before turning into frustration. “You don’t know shit about me.”
Braxton cocked a brow. “Do you?”
Did I know myself? What kind of question was that? Of course I did. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” Braxton walked off without another word. I was so pissed I didn’t even take advantage of the fact that I could watch his ass as he went.
I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, found my cocky smile, and headed into the kitchen. I grabbed a clean washcloth and a cart and bin for dishes.
There were more people in Shenanigans when I went back out. I really hoped the guys didn’t stop in tonight. I hoped they didn’t stop in at all. They’d do nothing but give me shit.
I headed to one of the tables and started scraping the food into the trash on the rolling cart, then tossed the dishes into the bin. Fuck, people were gross. There was a pile of ketchup on one of the plates, with salt and pepper poured over it. Another had chewed-up food that the person had clearly decided they didn’t like and spit out.
I gagged. Twice. Maybe three times. Okay, four, but that was it.
I looked over my shoulder to make sure Braxton wasn’t watching. He was mixing a drink, but his gaze flicked over to mine at just the right time for it to look like I was staring at him.
He smirked.
I blew him a kiss.
He shook his head and, wait… Was he trying not to smile? My pulse danced, which was not what it should be doing. Who gave a shit if Braxton Walker liked me or not?
I got back to work, an unexpected need to prove myself to him burning through me. I’m not grossed out by the food. I’m not grossed out by the food.
From now on, I would never ever leave a restaurant with my table being anything other than perfectly straightened up. I guessed mixing alcohol and college students made it worse.
I cleaned up the tables, wiped them down, took the dishes to the back, washed everything, and by the time I got back out, there was shit all over the place again. More people filled the booths, tables, and counters as well. A band was playing toward the back. They had open mic nights with all sorts of different music.
It went on like that all night.
All. Fucking. Night.
Didn’t people go home? Didn’t they have homework to do?
On weeknights, Oscar made sure any of the staff with morning classes were out of there by eleven, which included me and Braxton. He made it to the back before me. I expected him to be gone, but he was lingering in the kitchen, looking at his phone.
He pretended not to see me, not to be paying attention, but somehow, I knew he was.
I walked over to where he leaned against the wall, close to the hallway where the storage room was. At the end was a door that led outside, which we could exit or where employees went out for their breaks if they smoked or wanted fresh air.
“Yes,” I said to him.
He frowned. It fit his face like it was used to being there, like maybe it was his natural state of being. “Yes what?”
“You were waiting so you could offer to walk me back to Liberty Court, right? I mean, I’d be fine on my own, but it’s sweet of you to offer.”
“I didn’t offer.”
“But you were going to.”
“No,” he replied. “I… Shut the fuck up. You know I wasn’t going to ask.”
“It’s okay, Sunshine. I won’t tell anyone you like me. I’m sorry that I don’t feel the same, but we can continue being frenemies.”
Braxton shoved off the wall. “What the fuck is a frenemy?” He headed toward the door, and I went with him.
“Us.”
“We’re not friends. Just enemies.”
“Only because it’s so hard for you since you like me.” God, he was fun. I could do this all night. Five minutes ago I was exhausted and wanted to fall into bed and never get out. Now, a new burst of energy exploded inside me.
“I don’t like—Jesus, how do you make me do this? I know exactly what hand you’re playing, yet I fall right into your trap.” He opened the door, and I walked out. Such a gentleman.
“It’s a gift.”
“You’re annoying, and I hate you.”
“There’s a thin line between love and hate.”
It was quiet behind the bar, nothing but the sound of the ocean and cars in the distance.
“I think…” He took a step closer to me, then another. I had a feeling the bastard was about to turn the tables on me. He was good at that, and I didn’t like it…or maybe I did. “You want me to like you.” Another step. My back hit the building, so apparently I’d been moving too. He kept coming. “Looking to slum it with a guy you know will make Mommy and Daddy angry?”