by Staci Hart
I strutted back over to Tyler, and he raised a dark brow. “You look awfully sure of yourself, considering you didn’t even get them to talk to each other.”
But I shook my head. “Planting the seeds, man. She’s reading Outlander, and he’s reading a Japanese comic with the same premise.”
He eyed me. “You told him I watched it, didn’t you?”
I shrugged. “I had to convince him it wasn’t just for girls. You were my best argument.”
He groaned. “You used me against myself.”
“Sorry. Actually, that’s a lie, I’m totally not sorry, and you’re a fanboy for Outlander, so don’t even play,” I said with a laugh. “Oh, and by the way, she’s an artist, preferring charcoal, thank you very much. I’ll take five now and twenty on meeting …” I glanced at the soon-to-be couple and bobbled my head, “three. By the third meeting, they’ll be together.”
He sighed and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, fishing around before pulling out a ten, the tendons in his muscular forearms fluttering. I couldn’t help but watch — it was like a tiny beacon of virility, calling my name.
“Got change?” he asked.
I snatched the bill from between his fingers with a snap and a grin. “Of course I do. I work in a bar.”
Tyler
I watched Cam’s back as she opened the register and made change for me, only a little irritated. Mostly, I was amused, as I was so often with her. I’d seen her at work on couples a lot, and it never ceased to amaze me. She explained it once to me by likening it to being able to see connections between people — all she had to do was focus on that and she could bag a couple, just like that. It started with her college roommate, and once she had that win under her belt, she was unstoppable.
I smiled to myself with my eyes still on her. Her dark hair hung down her back in soft waves — you could see that her frame was slight, even in a loose black-and-red flannel. When she turned back to me, her rosy lips were tilted in a smirk, dark eyes twinkling behind her glasses.
Here’s the thing about Cam Emerson: she knows everything.
Okay, maybe not everything, but I’ve listened to her carry on conversations in Japanese, German, and French, and she knows enough Portuguese to do more than ask where to find the bathroom or library. I’ve seen her bake a soufflé from scratch that actually melted in my mouth, and I’ve watched her rebuild a laptop for gaming, lip between her teeth, hunched over the coffee table scattered with screws and hardware. I’ve also heard strings of obscenities leave her mouth when she’s watching football and disagrees with a call, which is often, because Cam is also always right.
She handed me a five-dollar bill across the bar with a look on her face that said I should have known better than to bet her. She was right about that, too.
“So what are you doing tonight?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Didn’t have plans, since I’ve got work in the morning. Kyle just texted me that he’s on his way.” I took a sip of my drink to wait for her reaction, since I knew there would be one.
She narrowed her eyes, the corner of her lip pulling into a little grimace. “Ugh.”
“I know. Maybe he won’t be so bad today.”
“We can hope.”
“He isn’t always a douchebag.”
She hung a hand on her hip. “You always say that, but I have yet to see any other version of Kyle.”
A pang prickled in my chest. “I know, but he hasn’t always been like this. When we played together in Nebraska … I don’t know how to explain it, Cam. When you go through that kind of training together, you walk away from it brothers. Maybe he’s let his fame go to his head a little—”
“A lot.”
I gave her a look. “—but he’s a good guy under all of that. When I got hurt, he was the one person who was always there for me, besides my parents. He came every day to the hospital and after, distracting me from the gravity of what happened, distracting me from the knowledge that I’d never play again, never go pro. I was devastated, Cam, and he was there for me.”
“I know,” she said quietly, her eyes soft.
I shook off the emotion. “Anyway, it worked. He helped me through my darkest days. I owe him a lot, including sticking with him through his asshole phase.”
She smiled, her glasses slipping down her tiny nose. “You’re one of the most genuinely good people I’ve ever known. So if you say Kyle is all right, I shouldn’t argue.”
“But you will anyway.”
“Of course I will. Have you met me?” she said with a laugh. “But I’ll try to be nice. For you.”
“Thank you.”
Her eyes flitted behind me. “Speak of the devil,” she muttered before stepping away to make herself busy somewhere else.
I turned to find Kyle strutting toward me with a hint of a gangster lean, smiling under the flat brim of his hat. If he’d had a ghetto blaster to soundtrack his entrance, it would have been playing Kanye. He was one of the only people who I hung out with anymore. I just hadn’t felt like I belonged, not for a long time, but Kyle was familiar, even if he’d changed in the years since college.
“’Sup, man?” he said in greeting as I stood.
We clapped each other on the back. “Hey, man.”
Kyle looked around as we parted, shaking his head. “The fuck is this place? This is the weirdest bar I’ve ever fucking seen. And you wonder why I’ve never come here before.” He took a seat next to me as he looked around with disdain on his face. “You’ve got to quit hanging out in places like this. It’s gonna fuck up your rep.”
“What rep?” I sat and picked up my beer.
“Exactly.” He smirked as he turned to face me and leaned on the bar. “What’s new, bro? I haven’t see you in weeks.”
“Not too much. I think I’m getting close to a yes for my first player. I’ve got a pretty solid yes from Darryl Johnson, I think at least, plus a few more I’m courting, but Darryl is where I’m putting most of my energy.”
He raised a blond brow. “Running back for Nebraska?”
I nodded and took a sip of my drink. “I’m heading up for homecoming. I just hope he sticks around.”
“Maybe if you’d stop being a noble son of a bitch and buy the kid a car, he’d sign the papers as soon as you put them in front of him.”
I frowned. “You know that’s not how we do things.”
He laughed and put up his hands in surrender. “I know, I know. It’s honorable, and I’m proud of you for hanging on to your integrity, doing it the ‘right’ way and all. I just don’t know how that’s ever going to pay the bills.”
“If a player doesn’t want to sign with me because somebody else bought him a car, I don’t want to represent him.”
“Fair enough.” He looked around again, wrinkling his nose. “It smells like coffee and learning. This place sucks. I just don’t get why you come here when I can get you into any club in New York.”
Cam turned the corner of the horseshoe bar and made her way toward us, and Kyle laughed a little too loud.
“Oh, right. I forgot she works here.”
I shot him a look before glancing back at Cam, who had on a smile that I could only describe as bullshit.
“Hey, Kyle. Whiskey?” She tossed a coaster in front of him that said The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them. -Ernest Hemingway.
“And Coke. How’d you guess?”
She shrugged. “You just look like a whiskey guy.”
He shrugged back and turned to me, ignoring her while she poured her drink, but I could tell she was listening to everything, the corners of her mouth tight.
“So,” he started, “you should definitely come with me to Noir tonight. We’ve got bottle service.”
“Kyle, it’s Wednesday.”
“So?”
He looked at me like I was crazy as he took the drink Cam set in front of him without offering her so much as a glance. Her eyes met mine, and I could almost hear her sa
y, See? before she turned back to the register.
I chuckled. “You’re gonna puke at practice tomorrow.”
“Maybe, but what are they gonna do about it? I’m the number two wide receiver in the NFL. You think they’re not going to put me in because I’m hungover at practice?” The big, bawdy laugh was back, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. As if he were invincible.
I felt Cam roll her eyes even with her back turned to us. I was starting to remember why it had been a while since I’d seen him, and I looked him over. The wide-eyed kid from Nebraska was nowhere to be seen these days, but I knew that deep down, his goodness hadn’t left him completely. I just hoped he didn’t self-destruct before he figured it out for himself.
“Come on,” he urged. “Garcia and Jensen will be there, and a ton of chicks. I’ll even give you dibs.”
With that, Cam walked away like she was carrying a lemon between her shoulder blades.
Kyle finally looked in her direction, watching her walk away. He jerked his chin at her as she leaned on the bar, smiling at the girl with the book while they talked.
“Weird bar, weird chicks.”
I frowned, gripping my glass a little tighter. “Cam’s not weird.”
“Yeah, she is. I bet she doesn’t even own a single pair of heels.”
“That doesn’t make her weird,” I said matter-of-factly. “That just means she doesn’t like heels.”
He still looked confused. “She doesn’t even wear makeup or anything.”
“Because she looks fine without it. What’s your issue?”
“I don’t know, man. She’d be bangin’ if she just put a little makeup and a push-up bra on.”
I shook my head, resisting the urge to deck him. “You’re an asshole.”
But he laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. “Oh, come on, man. Don’t be so sensitive. I’m just fucking with you. Cam’s cool — you know I like her. She’s a funny chick, just not your type.”
“And what exactly is my type?”
“Not that.” He nodded to Cam again.
“She tells me that all the time.” I shifted in my seat, watching her.
“Well, then she’s smart too. Thank God you friendzoned her from the jump,” he said with a laugh and took a drink.
“We friendzoned each other,” I corrected.
“Whatever. So are you coming out tonight or what?”
“Or what,” I answered, thankful for the change of subject. “I’ve got work in the morning.”
“So do I, and it’s not stopping me.”
“Well, apparently I don’t have the job security you do.”
He chuckled. “All right, all right. Would this weekend work better for you, Princess? So you can get your precious beauty rest?”
I rolled my eyes with a smile. “Yeah, this weekend could work.”
“Good. Then it’s settled. We’ll get drunk, get you laid, hang out with the boys. It’ll be everything you need.”
“If you say so,” I muttered, not at all interested.
“I say so.”
“Then how could I argue?”
Kyle held up his glass, smile bright. “Cheers to that, motherfucker.”
I raised my glass to his with a clink and we drank, Kyle draining his in a single shot. He set the glass on the bar and stood, fishing in his back pocket for his wallet.
“Leaving already?”
“Yeah, this place gives me the fucking willies, dude.” He tossed a twenty on the bar and slapped me on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you, brother. This weekend, it’s on.”
I smiled. “Good to see you too. Good luck tonight.”
He laughed. “Oh, luck’s got nothing to do with it. Don’t get crazy here in the bookstore, okay?”
“Hey, don’t joke. You haven’t seen this place when the new comic book issues come out.”
He narrowed his eyes in concentration. “It’s like you’re trying to talk to me, but I can’t understand a word,” he joked before turning, calling over his shoulder, “Later, man.”
I raised a hand in parting.
Cam didn’t come back until he was gone, and she had an overdone smile on her face.
I raised a brow. “What’s that look all about?”
“I was told if I don’t have anything nice to say not to say anything. Plus, I made a promise to a good buddy that I wouldn’t give him shit about his assbag friend who looked like he was scared of books.”
I laughed. “I think you’re right. About him being afraid of books, that is.”
She leaned on the bar, smiling sweetly at me. “They don’t bite. Much.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle, leaning toward her too. “Don’t let him know, or he might come back,” I said conspiratorially.
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
ALL THE BOOKS
Cam
TYLER SMILED AT ME FROM across the bar, and I sighed, content with his company. You know, as many matches as I’d made, I’d never attempted to set Tyler up. The reason was simple: Tyler deserved the absolute best, and I hadn’t found anyone for him yet that lived up to my expectations for him. Not that I’d looked super hard, but that was beside the point.
Bayleigh pushed through the double doors just in front of the bar, waving at me cheerily as she walked past. “Hey, Cam.”
“How’s it going, Bayleigh?”
She made her way behind the bar and shoved her purse into the cubby where we kept our stuff. When she stood, she ran her hands through her blond hair, pulling it into a ponytail. “Weird question, but could you call me Leigh?”
My brow furrowed. “Sure, but why?”
She sighed and rolled her big, brown eyes. “It’s dumb.”
“I doubt that. Come on, what happened?”
“Well, I’m just sick to death of everybody spelling my name wrong. I went to get coffee this morning, and the barista spelled it Baylee. Not that it matters — I mean, it’s just coffee. But it’s gotten to the point that I spell my name to everyone I meet, whether it matters or not. Like, I met a guy the other night, and when I spelled my name he looked at me like I was crazy. So I’m trying on nicknames. At least there’s a chance someone will spell my name right if it’s more common. Leigh seemed like the obvious choice.”
Tyler tilted his head. “Spelled L-e-e?”
Bayleigh’s nose wrinkled. “Ugh. No. L-e-i-g-h. See?” She gestured to Tyler. “I’m doomed, Cam. My parents thought they were so fucking cute, those assholes.”
I chuckled. “I mean, there could be worse things, I guess.”
“I know. I know it’s dumb to get bent about it. I didn’t used to mind so much, but lately it’s been driving me insane. Guess there’s no easy way out, though. Plus, I don’t even know if I’d answer to Leigh.” She sighed. “Back to the drawing board.” She swiped her ID card on the register terminal and clocked in. “How’s it been today? Busy?”
“We were slammed at lunch today — I had to pull Elizabeth off the floor to help make lattes.”
“And Rose, too,” my boss said from behind us.
I turned to the sound of her voice. “Hey, Rosie. Finish that paperwork for the accountant?”
She rolled her dark eyes and pushed her long, dark hair over her shoulder. “Yeah, and it only took me all day. The list of things I hate about owning a store is topped by paperwork.”
“You finished? Want a drink? Scotch or whiskey?”
She took a seat next to Tyler. “Scotch, if you’d be so kind.”
I grabbed a glass and poured her a couple of fingers of amber liquid into a rocks glass.
“You’re a lifesaver, Cam,” she said as she took the offered drink.
I smiled. “I do what I can”
Rose took a sip of her drink. “Bayleigh, don’t forget about the meeting in the morning. We’ve got inventory all day.”
“Yup, and then singles night tomorrow night. I’ll be here,” she sang. “Though I still need a costume. I don’t have anything even re
motely comic book-related to wear.”
“Oh,” I said, taking the unplanned opportunity to set plans into motion like a sneaky, sneaky matchmaker. “I had an idea for you — what about Spiderman’s first love, Gwen Stacy? She’s blond too, all you’d need is a black headband and a skirt and top. A lab coat, if you’re feeling adventurous.”
She nodded, excited. “I can pull that off. I think my roommate was a sexy scientist last year for Halloween.”
Rose snorted.
“Perfect,” I said. “And you and Greg will be working the bar tomorrow night together.” I pictured them behind the bar together, and the giddy rush from The Reader and Batman returned.
Tyler gave me a look that said to stop meddling, and I gave him one back that said I’d do what I damn well pleased.
Bayleigh smiled and blushed. “Yeah.”
“Greg’s great to work with, isn’t he?” I nudged.
“For sure,” she swooned. “He’s sweet and funny. Plus, I mean, when he wears T-shirts and you can see all his tattoos? I’d watch him make Harvey Wallbangers all day.”
I laughed. “I should make him squeeze fresh orange juice for the bar. Like, out here on the floor where we can watch.”
Her flush deepened. “Oh, please do, and let me know when it’s happening so I can make popcorn.”
“I’m sure that won’t get me sued for sexual harassment at all,” Rose said and took a drink.
Tyler kicked back his pint and smirked. “That’s my cue.”
I pouted. “Wait, you’re not leaving, are you?”
“As much as I enjoy hanging around, I’ll leave you girls to objectify men without me.”
I laughed. “Aw, jealous it’s not you?”
His smirk stretched a little higher. “Maybe.” He tossed some bills on the bar top. “Have fun, ladies.”
“Bye,” all three of us chimed as he walked out, and we watched until he turned onto the sidewalk and disappeared.
“Man, that boy is fine,” Bayleigh said with a sigh, shaking her head. “I can’t believe he doesn’t have a girlfriend.”
“Right?” I said. “He’s had a few serious girlfriends and dated a bunch, but he’s been through the ringer. Get this — in college, his girlfriend dumped him when he got hurt.”
