by Stella Rhys
“Nice try, kid. Come back when you’re legal,” he had laughed before ruffling my hair.
And now five years later, here I was.
Legal in every way. A cocktail waitress in Manhattan.
And on the other side of the table, there he was—at the very bar where I worked, sitting directly in front of me, pinning his hot stare on me.
But saying nothing to me.
What the hell? Am I dreaming? Is this real?
A million questions ricocheted through my brain as I simply stared back at Iain, so breathless and disoriented that I hardly registered Lana reaching over to snatch the check out of my hands.
“Thank you,” she ground out impatiently before returning her flirty attention to the table. “Here you are, Mr. Thorn. Can I get you anything else?” she lilted, back to her baby voice as she leaned over the table to hand Iain the check.
And in the two seconds it took for him to take it, I hastily drank him all in.
Mother of God, I cursed to myself, the wind freshly knocked from my lungs, because if he was hot back then, he was fucking lethal now.
Once buzzed close to his skull, his dark hair was longer now, impeccably groomed. His chiseled jaw sported the perfect amount of facial hair, and his body… God. I could see that his athletic frame was broader now, even more built than the last time I saw him. On top of that, he was all clean lines and shiny cuff links in that crisp, tailored suit, and I actually had to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth as I stared, because while he’d always been super strong, now he looked powerful. Important.
Every bit the very big deal I knew he’d become since he moved to this city.
“Gentlemen,” Lana simpered. “You’ll have to excuse Holland’s staring.”
I blinked.
Crap.
Yanked back to Earth, I snatched my gaze up from Iain’s chest, and my breath hitched in my throat when I found his piercing gaze locked once again on mine—wolfish yet nonchalant. Almost matter-of-fact. As if he had every right to just sit there, leaning back in his seat, slowly thumbing the side of his rocks glass.
Casually stealing all the air from my lungs.
So… no hi? How are you? It’s been awhile?
We’re just going to pretend like we don’t know each other?
Lana giggled.
“Yeah, Holland’s brand new here, so she’s still getting used to keeping it cool around our high-profile clientele,” she smirked, her bold red lip curling as she peered over at me. “Poor girl still needs a ton of experience.”
“Well, shit, you could’ve fooled me.”
The deep twang pierced through my haze and made my eyes flutter to my right, and only then did I notice the hulking blond guy sitting right next to Iain.
He was huge—a giant mass of man with a short ponytail, ruddy skin and hooded eyes that wandered up, down and all around the front of my body, shamelessly devouring my cleavage like the rules of basic social etiquette didn’t apply to him.
I blushed.
Not from the way this stranger was staring at my boobs, but from the fact that Iain was sitting right there.
Watching him do it.
He was stoic, but I caught the single tick in his jaw and it made me feel all warm and tingly all over.
Frickin’ Mia, I cursed inwardly, embarrassed and at the same time, weirdly thrilled as I remembered that she had yanked my neckline down before I came over here, just so my boobs would be extra booby for the famous Mr. Ass—who was in fact Iain Fucking Thorn, literally the person I used to think of when I fantasized about being a grown-up, dressing sexy someday and showing off the miracle boobs I got the summer after sophomore year, that no one in the world knew about because of the stupid, childish clothing Mom always forced me to wear.
“Would I be wrong about that, sweetheart?”
Shit.
My focus snapped back to Ruddy when I realized he was still talking to me.
“I’m sorry—what was that?” I asked, sounding breathier than I had wanted. He grinned.
“I said the way you strut around in that lil’ dress… would’ve guessed you were plenty experienced,” he said, bringing his heavy gaze back up from my skirt and tossing me a cheesy wink that would’ve made me want to roll my eyes if I weren’t so busy being completely distracted.
Because I didn’t have to look to sense Iain’s displeasure.
I could feel it.
The shift in the air. The heat of his gaze. Without even looking at him, I could feel his shoulders tensing, his body stilling. Every hair on the back of my neck was suddenly standing up now, because I could literally feel all his attention zeroing in on me, locked tight on me as Ruddy geared up with another question.
“So, new girl. What time do you get off tonight? ‘Cause my boy Ty Damon is outside and we were thinking of taking the night to a club if you wanna recommend any—”
“Oh, pfft! Don't ask her,” Lana snorted hastily, interrupting the way she generally did when the spotlight strayed from her. “She wouldn’t know anywhere cool, she’s like, a baby. Total city virgin.”
Ruddy lifted his eyebrows at me.
“Oh yeah?” he said, a dirty grin spreading his lips so slow that it made my skin actually crawl. “Well, that’s perfect for me. You know why?”
He paused, seeming to savor the look of discomfort I had on my face before I humored him reluctantly.
“Why?” I asked.
He chuckled.
“’Cause there ain’t nothing I like better than little blonde virgins with nice, big—”
“Watt,” Iain cut in.
Holy fuck.
A single word and a chill erupted up my spine, settling into a hot buzz on the back of my neck, because God, that voice.
I missed that voice.
It was so low and crisp, with an effortless command that froze me right in place as I watched Ruddy—rather, Watt—react like a kid who’d just been scolded by his teacher. His mouth snapped shut and I’d caught the way he startled before recovering fast, giving a scoff and flashing a cocky grin as he turned around.
But when his mouth opened to say something, Iain spoke brusquely over him.
“Go wait outside with Ty,” he said.
Whoa.
My mouth fell open at the steely command, because it rolled off his tongue so smoothly, with no hesitation—like a man whose authority had never once been disobeyed. And maybe it hadn’t, because Watt stared in disbelief for another second, but then he sneered and muttered something under his breath, knocking back the last of his beer before getting right up and stalking wordlessly past me and a completely wide-open-mouthed Lana.
“Oh… my… God,” she whispered over her shoulder as she watched him go. Scandal glimmered in her eyes, and I could, disturbingly enough, feel how hot and bothered she was as she turned back to Iain, raking her bottom lip between her teeth. “Sticking up for us waitresses, huh? You’re gonna have to let me buy you a drink for that one, Mr. Thorn,” she purred, licking the corner of her mouth.
Iain looked at her.
“I’d prefer a minute alone with Holland,” he said.
My heart thumped like a rock against my chest as I pretty much heard the smile drop off Lana’s face.
“Oh,” she said flatly, just standing and staring there for a second, like she was waiting for Iain to say something else or maybe change his mind. But when he didn’t, she let out a short huff of breath, shooting me a weirdly accusatory look before turning on her heel and marching right off, leaving me standing there all alone.
And so insanely fucking anxious I was having actual hot flashes.
Because I had hoped to feel an instant shift once Lana was gone. To turn my head and see Iain crack a smile, or hear that warm “hey you” that he had always reserved just for me when he came over our house.
But I got none of that.
Instead I got his emerald eyes boring into mine, scrutinizing me for another punishing second of silence before he aske
d, “What are you doing here?”
I blinked, stunned.
I wasn’t sure what kind of greeting I was expecting at this point, but it definitely wasn’t that. I could feel my cheeks heating up and my eyebrows pulling into a frown as I gave my awkward response.
“I… work here?”
“Is your mother aware of that?”
Oh my God. Everything inside me deflated as I blushed so hard I felt the heat flood back to my ears and my neck.
“No,” I said tightly, amazed by how a single question managed to reduce me to feeling once again like a child. “She isn’t,” I continued slowly to gather my wits. “But it’s not really her business anymore considering I moved out five weeks ago.”
Boom.
I had hoped for that bombshell to elicit a look of surprise, maybe even some pride from Iain. He was, after all, the one person who used to tell me that I was as smart and capable as anybody, and that I could do anything I set my mind to.
But to my dismay, there wasn’t the slightest hint of reaction in those perfect, chiseled features. His expression remained impassive as he held his gaze on me for another second before flicking it down to the check.
“Your brother said you got a job with the Mercier Group,” he said. “In marketing.”
I clenched my teeth a bit.
“No. Visuals,” I corrected, annoyed that I had to answer to him when he wasn’t even looking at me. “And I do work there, I just got a temporary second job so I could buy a few more things that I needed.”
“Like what?”
“Some furniture.”
“What kind?”
A bed since I’ve been sleeping on a lumpy mattress on the floor for five weeks, but I’m sure as hell not gonna tell you that.
“Just… stuff. Like, general stuff from Stone Pine, which isn’t the cheapest store in the world, so I needed the side gig,” I said, getting a little defensive. “Why are you even asking me all this right now?”
Iain looked up at me as he reached into his jacket for his wallet.
“Because I don’t think you should be working here,” he replied.
My eyebrows sprang up.
Ummm…
“What?” I stretched the word out for a solid second-and-a-half, and I couldn’t even help the laugh of disbelief that bubbled out from my lips, straight into his face. It sounded bratty, full of attitude, but I was seriously confused as to what the hell Iain was saying right now. “You… don’t think I should work here?” I repeated, eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
He prioritized paying the bill, laying two crisp hundreds onto the check and flipping the holder closed before answering my question.
“I don’t think this place is exactly your speed,” he said, lighting an instant fire to my cheeks.
Oh.
Okay…
My anger mounted as I watched him tuck his fancy leather wallet back into his jacket, looking so calm, at ease—like a shiny fucking Armani ad as I stood there quietly fuming.
“And what exactly is my speed?” I demanded, because I knew what he was implying. “The job equivalent of a bouncy house?”
Iain glanced up at me. His expression was blank, but I could see the wide planes of his chest expanding under his shirt as he drew in a breath then let it go, sighing like he was exasperated with me, which I very much resented because he was the one doing the provoking right now, not me. So what the hell?
It was one of many questions I had at this point, so when the next second ticked by without Iain saying anything, I barreled on.
“Also, remind me how this is any of your business to begin with, because aside from the fact that we haven’t seen each other in five years, you haven’t even said hi to me yet tonight,” I pointed out hotly. “So why do you think it’s okay for you to march into my life and try to tell me what I’m allowed to do with it? Do you think you’re like… the one who’s in charge of me now that we live in the same city? Am I supposed to have you sign a permission slip every time I want to try something new?” I questioned, getting breathless from taking exactly zero breaths during my tirade. My chest was heaving now as Iain simply watched me in silence, like he was waiting out a toddler throwing a tantrum.
God.
It was mortifying, and so infuriating the way he just sat there completely expressionless, half-reclined in his seat, in no rush to speak till he knew for sure I was done.
“To be perfectly honest, Holland, I come here often with clients,” he finally said. “And I don’t want my concern to be with you every time I’m in the middle of a meeting.”
His concern? What—?
“If you’re talking about tables being rude to me or trying to hit on me, I can handle that stuff on my own. I froze up in front of your friend because I was surprised to see you,” I said, pausing exactly one beat for effect, “but otherwise, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and I definitely don’t need you to chaperone me while I’m at work. For the record, I’m twenty-two, which actually means I’ve been an adult for four whole years now.”
Iain’s thumb stroked the side of his glass as he eyed me.
“I don’t know how true that is if you had a 9PM curfew up until five weeks ago.”
I stared.
Okay… wow.
I took a moment to boil over my brother and the fact that he’d clearly shared that embarrassing tidbit with Iain, but I indulged for about a second before I forced myself to fire back.
“Well, working here has really helped me make up for lost time,” I said, injecting a tinge of mischief in my voice as I alluded to all the naughty late-night hijinks that I had definitely not been partaking in, but Iain didn’t need to know that.
Especially not when the suggestion of it made his jaw visibly tighten.
Huh.
A little thrill coursed through my veins as I watched the hollows of his cheeks pulse. I hadn’t quite expected this reaction, and it had me suddenly flushed, suppressing the urge to bite my lip as I wondered exactly what Iain was imagining right now about his best friend’s little sister.
At the very least, he was picturing me drinking and partying.
But a twisted sliver of me hoped his imagination was running wilder than that—picturing me grinding at clubs with strangers, writhing against a wall in the bathroom with some guy’s mouth on my neck and his big hands squeezing all over my body. Wishful thinking, but I told myself it was possible.
Especially when I heard the seriously panty-soaking gravel in Iain’s voice as he said, “Is that right?”
God.
He wasn’t giving me much in terms of conversation, but what little he said still managed to go straight between my thighs and render me speechless for a second.
“Mm-hm.” I nodded, waiting out the burst of tingles that were coursing through my body before I opened my mouth to speak again. “I have fun working here,” I said daintily once I’d gathered all my thoughts again. “And even if I didn’t, I still need the money, so I’m definitely not going to quit just because you feel the weird need to babysit me anytime you come around. I knew what kind of job this was when I applied for it, I can handle creepy guests on my own and if there’s anything I don’t need anymore, it’s people making decisions for me. I am not a little girl anymore.”
The last few words came out with bite and such defiance that I could feel them still hanging in the air, dangling in the silence that stretched so long and thick between us that I swore it was pulsing as Iain’s stare hardened on me.
“Trust me, I can see that,” he said.
And suddenly, my pussy clenched tight.
Because aside from the fact that Iain had flicked his gaze to my mouth for half a scorching hot second, his voice had dropped to something so low, so husky I could practically feel his words dragging rough over my skin, prickling all over my body and flooding me with heat that made me want to just tear off all my clothes.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
I tried pumping the brakes on m
y suddenly dirty train of thought, but it was too late, because while I wasn’t sure what had happened just now, I already knew I wanted more.
I wanted Iain’s eyes back on my lips and then I wanted his gaze to drop further down on my body. I wanted him to lose the big brother act for two frickin’ seconds and just let himself look, because he’d said it himself.
I wasn’t a little girl anymore. And he could see that.
So look at me, I willed him. But he didn’t.
So I challenged him.
“Can you?” I asked innocently, tilting my chin down and pushing my shoulders back as I stood up nice and tall for Iain. I told myself I was doing it for good posture, to better present myself as a poised, mature adult.
But really, I knew I was just pushing my boobs out as much as I could.
Which, ironically, was childish. And petulant. But in my mind, Iain deserved the little show because in a matter of ten minutes tonight, he had ignored me, insulted me and spoken to me like I was five. He had butted his head into my business and acted like I was some small, incapable child, so as far as I was concerned, I had the right to show him I wasn’t. As far as I was concerned, I deserved the satisfaction of watching that dark look cast over his eyes now as he glared back at me.
Well aware of what I was doing.
As a matter of fact, I doubted any one look could say I know what you’re doing more than the look Iain was giving me me right now, all stern and unamused. Like I was on his very last nerve.
It should’ve intimidated me, or made me feel self-conscious like it had when I was younger, the one time he was ever this serious with me.
It was after an Empires game. I’d lost him and Adam in a big, drunken crowd and when Iain found me twenty minutes later, his eyes were on fire. He looked just as stern and angry as he did right now, and though he’d been worried, not mad, I’d felt sorry and self-conscious for the rest of the day—the rest of the week, really—because I hated the fact that I’d upset him.
So you’d think I’d feel even a little bit bad right now.
