by Kensie King
I’d just come up with a story about how there was a party going on at my house and I didn’t want to intrude. Lame. Totally. But it was just temporary.
I had to keep reminding myself of that. This—all this—was just temporary. Soon, I’d have enough money saved I could afford a deposit on my own place. Something dirt cheap that would allow me to save more.
To get the hell away from my dad forever.
Shoving aside the rest of that guilt, I peeked around the neighborhood for unfamiliar cars or people before I jumped into my car and shoved the key in the ignition.
It wheezed for a moment but started up. Fuck, yeah. The first bit of luck I’d had for two days.
Getting caught by Tate this morning flashed through my mind and mortification rushed over me. How had I been so stupid? I hadn’t even considered there might be a delivery or some other reason for Tate to show up at work early. I’d just been so tired, and so relieved I didn’t have to go home, that I’d fallen asleep the moment my eyes closed.
I should apologize again—maybe make up a story for him, too. Something that would explain why I’d used his storage closet as a hotel. But in all honesty, I was sick of lying.
I wanted to tell Tate the truth. I almost had this morning. His hazel eyes had done that thing again—the one where they bore straight into me and tried to see what was in my mind. My soul.
He’d understand. He’d help you, my brain told me.
But it was easy to argue back that I didn’t need anyone’s help. I’d gotten myself into this mess, I could get myself out. And Tate was my boss. If he found out the mess I was really in, he might fire me.
I couldn’t get fired. My hands squeezed on the wheel. If I got fired, who knew how quickly I’d find a job. And I made a fuck-ton in tips on the weekend at the bar. I needed that money.
Since I’d been at Toxic for over six months now, I’d moved up and had some seniority. Which meant I got the good evening shifts with all the best tips.
My stomach jumped when I saw Tate’s pick-up in the parking lot.
“You knew he was going to be here,” I whispered to myself. “Just be professional.”
Being professional around Tate proved harder and harder every day, though. Probably because he got sexier and sexier every day. Because more and more of me wanted him. I just had to keep reminding myself that he was my boss. That he was off-limits. Not only that, getting anyone involved in my mess was a bad idea. If my dad’s drug dealers or whoever the hell they were came after me, they might come after someone I cared about.
I hadn’t even told Bea what was going on, even though she must know it was something serious.
Inside the bar, a few other employees bustled around, setting up for this evening. The band was already at the stage putting their equipment out, getting ready for a lucrative night. I always loved Friday’s. So many people here I didn’t know. Perfect to blend in. To be anyone you wanted to be—as long as it wasn’t who I truly was.
Keeping an eye out for Tate, I clocked in and hurried to the bar. So far, so good. There were already a few customers sitting at the dark stools across the shiny surface. I smiled at the man who sat on the end. He looked vaguely familiar—I think he’d been here last weekend.
A cutie, with shaggy dark brown hair and eyes that said they didn’t miss much. I think he’d been alone last week, too.
Now, this was the kind of person I should be looking for. Someone quiet like me. Unassuming. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about Tate.
I poured a drink for the man and then grinned at Bea when she arrived. She wore a low-cut crop top that showed of her amazing curves.
“Sexy,” I murmured.
She smiled back. “If only that worked for you.”
“Sometimes I wish. Life would probably be easier, right?”
She joined me behind the bar. “Love is never easy, honey. Trust me. Man, woman, tall, short—it’s all the same in the end. Sometimes you love ‘em and lose ‘em no matter what sex they are.”
“Truer words have never been spoken,” I said.
Sure, Bea had more experience with love than I did. After all, the first guy I loved was my path to endless regret. Typical.
Bea cheered me up some and made it easier to forget my life for a bit. By the time the band was on their fifth song, we were singing and making drinks in unison, like we were one person.
I slid a drink down the bar to her and the guy at the end smiled at me. Blushing, I poured another drink.
When something touched my back, I yelped, and the drink slid off the edge of the edge of the bar, glass shattering on the tiles at my feet.
“I’m so—” The apology was cut short when I glanced over and saw Tate. Then I couldn’t stop apologizing. “I didn’t mean—you surprised me—I’m so sorry.”
I ducked down automatically to pick up the glass.
“Liam, wait—”
But I scooped up the glass anyway, hissing when it sliced into the palm of my hand.
Tate grabbed my arm, pulling me up from the floor. “Liam—shit. That’s blood. Okay—Bea!” he snapped. “Please clean this up. Use a dustpan. And Drew—”
I blinked at the speed he handed out orders, covering the bar and cleaning up my mess in just moments. My assurances that I was fine were lost in the noise, taking a back seat to Tate’s calm instructions.
“Come on,” he said to me, more gently. “We’ll get it cleaned up.”
“Really, it’s not—”
“You’re hurt.” Tate kept my arm firmly in his grasp. “I’m fixing this.”
The finality in his voice made me snap my mouth shut. Might as well not argue. The sooner we cleaned up my hand, the sooner he’d let me get back to work.
I expected him to bring me to the employee room, but instead he walked me to the manager’s office. I’d only been in here twice. The first, when Tate had hired me. The second, when I’d signed paperwork the day I started.
God, it smelled good in here. Like Tate. Warm. Strong. And so capable. I apologized again. The calmer Tate stayed, the more understanding he showed, the more I wanted to break down and just get it all out there.
“Sit down,” Tate commanded.
I dropped to the seat at the desk, ignoring the throbbing in my hand. I’d had worse.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Tate said, reaching into a closet full of jackets.
“You didn’t—I mean—” I took a breath before I started babbling. “It was my fault.”
Tate returned with a first aid kit. His jaw shifted, and it was the first time I’d seen him upset. “I wish you’d stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Apologizing. Acting like you made a mistake—and like I might fire you for it.”
“No—no, that’s not how I meant it at all.” I shook my head. “I mean, if you fired me, you’d have good reason for it but—”
“But I don’t have a good reason. At least not to fire you.”
My throat dried. A suspension, maybe? He’d make me take a leave of absence until I got my head on straight and stopped breaking into storage rooms to stay the night? “I understand,” I whispered. “If—if you think I need to…” What? “Take a pay cut? Or—or—”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Now Tate looked even more upset.
Until he unwrapped the towel around my hand and hissed in a breath. “Fuck, Liam. Look at your hand.” He knelt in front of me, my hand still in his. He ran his fingers over my knuckles, and I shivered. “Let’s see if you need stitches. And then…”
I held my breath, so close to his face I could see the flecks of gold in his eyes. “And then?”
Tate looked up, his eyes locking on mine. He brushed my knuckles once more. “And then you’re going to tell me the truth.”
Chapter 6
TATE
My heart broke at the look of fear in Liam’s eyes. What in the world was going on?
I was as gentle as I could be as I wiped a
way the blood and then put pressure on the wound to slow down the bleeding. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches.”
Liam quiet breath of laughter made me relax some. “So I’ll live?”
“You’ll live.”
Liam glanced over, and then lowered his gaze to his hand again. I continued to crouch at his side, holding his hand in both of mine, breathing in the scent of him, loving that I had an excuse to be so close to him. Unfortunately, it was at his expense.
Mason’s words came back to me. Rules are made to be broken. But even that wasn’t much help when the person I wanted seemed to be scared of everything that came out of my mouth.
But right now, he didn’t seem scared. He seemed…on the verge of something. His gaze kept flicking to mine. Like he was waiting for something as much as I was.
“You can tell me,” I said softly, keeping my voice soothing.
Liam’s shoulders tensed. “It’s not…”
I expected him to say it wasn’t anything, like usual. But instead, he released a breath. “I’ve been jumpy. It—my family has been having some trouble.”
I continued to wait, pressing my hand as gently on the wound as possible as the blood seeped into the rag I held. Any minute the bleeding would stop and Liam wouldn’t have any reason to keep sitting right in front of me. He wouldn’t have any reason to confide in me.
“And your lip?” I prompted him when he stopped talking.
He licked it absently. It was already mostly healed, and the motion made my dick throb. Damn, he had nice lips. Everything about him was nice—innocent. But edgy at the same time. His glasses framed ice blue eyes that shot straight to my soul. They rested above sharp cheekbones I could barely stop from touching. And his mouth. Fuck, I wanted my mouth on his. To taste his lips. To run my own down his neck, and lower.
“Did someone do that to you?” I asked, my voice rough.
He nodded.
“Dammit. Liam—” I bit off the rest of what I wanted to say, afraid to scare him off.
He opened his mouth. “I’m so—”
“Don’t you dare fucking apologize,” I growled. His eyes widened behind his glasses. “It’s not you,” I said quickly. “Whoever did this to you…Is that why you stayed here last night?”
His eyes moved away from mine again, jaw clenching. He nodded. “It won’t happen again.”
“Damn right it won’t. You need to take care of yourself. You can’t sleep in the storage closet.” Before he could answer, I shook my head. “And I don’t mean going home. If it’s not safe there, you can’t go back.”
“I think…” He swallowed and wiggled his hand from mine. “It stopped bleeding. I just need—”
I brushed his hand aside. “Let me.”
It was the least I could do. We both stayed quiet as I went through the first aid kit. When I put antiseptic on his hand, he gritted his teeth but didn’t make a peep. Just like the Liam I was growing accustomed to.
He was definitely a less is more kind of guy. It was working for me. The less he talked, the more I wanted him to.
“Sorry,” I murmured as I wiped the wound clean again. “We’ll probably have to check the bandage again later. Or…you’re welcome to clock out early and—”
I broke off, realizing my mistake. Clock out early and what? There was no way in hell I was letting him go home again. But it wasn’t like I could ask him to my place—even though that was precisely what I wanted. I’d feel better that way. With him close.
And maybe he’d be able to get a good night of sleep knowing he was safe.
“Listen,” I said, securing the bandage and rocking back on my heels, “you can stay here. You shouldn’t have to go anywhere you’re not safe.”
His mouth opened and closed. I couldn’t read the expression on his face. But I was afraid he would decline simply because he didn’t want to put me out.
I took a risk and set my hand on his knee. His skin was warm through his jeans, making my breath catch. “I’m—I’d feel better if you at least stayed here or I knew you were going somewhere else. With Bea, even.”
To my surprise, he removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “I’m just so tired.”
“Liam…” The weariness in his voice tugged at my heart.
Before I could question what I was doing, I rose up to my knees and leaned in. His breath caught, but he didn’t move as I wrapped my arms around him. He didn’t hesitate to drop his head to my shoulder. That immediate motion of trust killed me. And turned me on. My dick twitched. Hell, it had been so long since I’d felt like this. Since I had my hands on someone who let me hold them.
His hot breath tickled my neck and aroused me even more. Fuck. How the hell had I managed to stay away from him for so long?
I pulled back to see his eyes. They were even bluer without his glasses. Up close, they were electric. A pull so sharp it was like he’d brainwashed me. I had to have my mouth on his.
He didn’t move a muscle, only let his lips part in silent invitation. And I took it. I swooped in, sliding my hand to the back of his head to hold him against me.
The surprised moan he gave me shot straight to my groin. My cock went rock hard, throbbing to be let loose.
I parted his lips further with my tongue, running the tip inside just enough to extract another moan. His hands went to my shoulders, his fingers clenching on the fabric of my shirt and holding on for dear life.
I used my free hand to slide along one perfect cheekbone. His skin was flawless. Soft and warm. I wondered if it was that smooth under his clothes. Picturing him naked only fueled my need to be close to him.
“Fuck, Liam…” His breath touched my lips, hot and fast. “You’re so perfect.”
He leaned in again, this time going first for what he wanted. His tongue traced my bottom lip. It was so sweet, so right, I couldn’t stand it.
In that moment, it all felt right. So right I couldn’t believe I hadn’t done something before.
Voices in the hallway made him yank in a breath. We jerked apart. His eyes were wide, breathing still heavy.
Our gazes held for one long moment, then he scrambled from the chair, almost tripping on my legs to get free.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, eyes moving from mine. He held his injured hand in the other. “I should get back to work. I should—”
He turned abruptly and strode out of the room, leaving me on my knees in the office, longing for something I might never have.
Chapter 7
LIAM
My hand ached and my brain waffled between being relieved and freaked the hell out because Tate knew my secret. Or at least part of it.
And he’d kissed me.
Maybe that’s what freaked me out the most. Tate kissed me.
It neared the end of the shift and I hadn’t had a chance to say anything to Bea yet because it had been so busy. She and Mason had been laughing back and forth all evening, too, which was a surprise because Mason didn’t often join us behind the bar.
Or in this case—at the bar. Mason didn’t bartend. But he did drink. I saw Tate cast him a few glares several times throughout the night. The rest of the time, his eyes were on me. I could feel them even when I couldn’t see them.
He stayed close, too, close enough our elbows brushed several times. Close enough I could feel his breath if I leaned just slightly to the side. And god, did I want to feel it. His kiss had shattered me. Better than I ever imagined.
He’d held me and then he’d kissed me. I almost broke down. I would have if we hadn’t heard voices in the hall.
Bea nudged me with her arm. “You’ve been distracted all night.”
I snapped to attention. “No, I haven’t.”
She rolled her eyes. Of course she’d noticed, and of course she wasn’t believing me right now. “I have to use the restroom.”
I glanced around and noticed it had slowed down. “Me too.”
I linked arms with her and walked around the bar, entirely aware of Tate’s m
uscular body as we passed from behind the bar to the other side. A shiver rained down my neck, causing the hairs to stand up.
Fuck. If I kept thinking about that kiss, I wasn’t going to be able to do anything tonight but dream of him. Of his mouth on mine, traveling lower until it touched my collarbone. And then he’d ease up my shirt—
“Are you still here?” Bea asked. She dragged me into the bathroom, apologizing to a customer and turning to me at the counter. “You just zoned out.”
“I’m just—I’m distracted.” I stared at myself in the mirror, hardly recognizing the person that was there. I looked like I hadn’t slept in a week and even though my cheeks were flushed with the heat and the memory of Tate’s kiss, I still had shadows under my eyes. My lip still held evidence of the punch I received.
And the inside was worse. I still couldn’t get the memory of those thugs shoving their way into my house, walking from room to room to try to find my dad. And then, finally, when they couldn’t find what they were looking for, holding me against the wall and leaving me with something to remember. Reminding me that if my dad didn’t pay his debt, I was the one who was going to have to pay for it.
“No shit,” she said. She sighed and set her hand on my arm. “You were distracted there for a bit and you looked better. But I know something else is going on. “
I nodded. I couldn’t share my personal stuff with her, the stuff about my dad, but I could tell her about Tate. My lips curved slightly. I could still feel his lips on mine. His warm hands running up my arms and holding me close to him against a chest of muscle. “Tate kissed me. “
Bea’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open. “What?”
“Tate kissed me.”
“When? Where?”
“We were in his office—”
“I don’t mean where in the building. I mean…” She wiggled her eyebrows with a laugh. “Where did he kiss you? “
I shoved her arm, rolling my eyes and blushing. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
