I finish buttoning the top. God knows how I manage to do that because I’m kinda flustered by everything going on. “Right, got it. You don’t like looking at bras. You might wanna whip your clothes off in here in future. And you’re serious as fuck about all this.” I salute him. “I’ll be sure to lock all that information in my amazing memory so I don’t forget to use the bathroom. No one wants to show off their bra and potentially steal your thunder when you’re in here stripping for everyone.”
I sail past him as fast as I can. It’s fairly easy to do because I’ve managed to shut him the hell up and bewilder him all in one go. He pretty much just stares at me as I exit the room.
And me? I’m bewildered too.
I don’t know what just happened between us, but it needs to never happen again.
Not in this lifetime. Not in my next lifetime. Not in any of my lifetimes.
It’s one thing to find Wilder hot with all those muscles he insists on having, but it’s a whole other thing to feel whatever that feeling is I just felt.
I busy myself serving in the bar. Wilder doesn’t come back in here for hours, which gives me time to get my head together.
We’re smashed with customers, and three hours pass fast.
Just after 9:00 p.m., I finish up and get changed back into my tank. I then do something I don’t usually do after a shift; I pull up a stool at the bar.
I’m still not feeling myself after my earlier interaction with Wilder. I can’t get what happened out of my head. That pisses me off because I know I’m going to spend half the night thinking about it, and thinking about Wilder isn’t something I want to do.
“You look like you need a drink, girlfriend.” I glance up to find a guy I don’t know sliding onto the stool next to me, a knowing look in his eye. “Did he break up with you? Cheat on you? Tell you he’s moving to another country? Or wait”—his eyes widen and he fake gasps—“did he tell you he’s gay?”
A smile pushes its way through to my face. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, but I like you.”
He shrugs. “It’s understandable. I get that a lot.” He looks at the bottles of alcohol lining the shelves of the bar. “What’ll it be? My shout. And don’t think you’re getting out of telling me what he did. I’ve got all night and a fondness for stories that involve assholes we can’t live without.”
“This story definitely has an asshole, but the reason I can’t live without him isn’t a sexy fun reason.”
He brings his attention back to me, his eyes filled with mischief. “Oh, this story involves denial too. One of my favourites in any story featuring an asshole. It really amps it all up, don’t you think? So much delicious tension.”
I can’t help it; I do something I rarely do. I laugh.
He smiles. “You have a beautiful laugh. We need to hear more.” He claps his hands together, his dramatic flair captivating me. “Right, drinks. And then stories and laughter. Tell me what you want.”
My assumption is this guy is gay. I’m 99 percent sure of that. My gaydar isn’t usually off, but a girl can be wrong sometimes. I don’t want to be wrong here because I don’t want him to hit on me. I mean, he’s hot. No doubt about that with his muscular build, dark hair, strong jaw, and inked skin. The jeans and black T-shirt he’s wearing curve over his muscles in all the right ways, but I don’t feel an ounce of attraction to him. I need to be sure of what’s happening here before I continue talking to him.
“I only ever drink Manhattans, but I never let a man I’m not interested in buy me one. I hate sending mixed signals.”
His smile grows. “Oh, how boring. I always let men I’m not interested in buy me drinks. It keeps life interesting.”
I laugh again.
This guy needs to come here more often.
I swivel on my stool so I’m facing him. “What’s your name?”
He opens his mouth to answer my question but is distracted by something behind me and doesn’t have the chance to share his name before Wilder joins us and says, “Don’t let him convince you to drink all night and then get up on a stage in drag and sing all the songs from Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. I promise you you’ll regret it in the morning.”
I stare at Wilder. “You two know each other?”
Wilder grins, glancing at the guy. “Just a little.” He looks back at me. “I spent my childhood getting in trouble for all the shit he did. I can’t count how many wooden spoons I took for him.”
My mouth falls open. Well, not literally, but in my head it does.
This fun guy who I actually like, when I rarely meet a person I like straight away, let alone at all, is related to Wilder, who is the most difficult and testing man I know. Seriously? Maybe they’re not related. Maybe they were childhood friends. Neighbours perhaps. That seems more likely to me.
And also, who is Wilder right now? Is he being playful or am I imagining that?
Have I been existing in an alternate universe the last few days? He’s not acting like himself at the moment.
Or wait, maybe he’s on his man-period and I missed the alert on that.
“How do you know my brother?” the guy asks.
Holy. Fuck.
They’re legit related.
Mind blown.
I look at Wilder, trying to forget the thing that happened between us earlier that shall never happen again, and failing epically. He’s smiling at me with those piercing green eyes of his that I’ve never really spent much time looking at to notice how nice they are.
He needs to stop smiling like that.
Right now.
I cannot be held accountable for my actions if he doesn’t.
The same unfamiliar feeling he caused earlier is back. It’s sitting low in my belly and high in my chest, and all the way down my arms. Not to mention what it’s doing to my legs. It’s pulsing and zapping and darting all through me, robbing me of any sensible thoughts I have. It has also rendered me incapable of walking. If I have to move off this stool, I am absolutely certain I will fall flat on my face.
“You okay?” Wilder asks, looking at me with concern.
The fact he’s turned me from the smart woman I am into this mess of I-don’t-know-what-the-fuck-is-happening-right-now has me snapping, “Yes, I’m okay. I mean, I still don’t know your brother’s name because you cut in on our conversation right before he could answer me, so maybe you”—my eyes cut to his brother—“or you could enlighten me.” I make wide eyes at them both, indicating they need to hurry up and hand this information over.
His brother laughs and looks at Wilder. “You’ve outdone yourself this time, Justin. I like her.”
“Your name’s Justin?” The question bumbles its way out of my mouth before I can stop it. I’m not sure why I’m fascinated and stunned and basically in a fucking dither over this discovery, but I am. Also, what does his brother mean by he’s outdone himself?
Wilder eyes me like he’s still concerned about me. “Yeah. You sure you’re okay? Do you need some water?”
I throw up my arms. Mostly because I need to get some of this wild energy out of me, but also because they kinda just take over and end up in the air. “I don’t need water. What I need is to know all the names I didn’t know existed a moment ago.” I stab a finger in the air at both of them. “Tell me all your names.”