Friction(34)

He grabs his beer and nods toward the bar. Reluctantly, stupidly, I follow behind him, keeping a safe distance between our bodies.

"What's that all about?" I slide beside him on a seat at the bar, gripping the worn edge of the counter when I drag in a breath of his cologne. "Is everything okay with Ash?"

Jace motions the bartender, but she purses her glossy pink lips together and holds up a finger. Snorting, he turns his face to mine. "Ash’s roommate took off today without notice." I frown, but before I can ask more questions, he answers the majority in one quick swoop. "She took most of his shit right along with hers. Considering the situation, I'd say he's handling it like a champ. Don't worry, he'll be back to his old self by Monday morning."

I cover my hand over my mouth. "Are you kidding?” When he shakes his head, I squeeze my eyes shut. “Shit. That's awful, is he pressing charges?"

Jace's full lips quirk. "She's his ex-girlfriend."

"Oh."

"So, he won't press charges—even if she was beating him in the face with the Xbox she skanked off with."

"Skanked off," I repeat, casting him an incredulous look. As the bartender starts our way, I continue, "You're worse than Jamie with all the made-up words."

"Another thing I excel at? Stop, Ms. Williams, you're turning me into a success story." I bite the inside of my cheek but hold back my response when he focuses on the bartender. He orders a winter ale then turns to me and gives me a questioning look.

"A mojito, please," I tell her directly, gaining a slight eye roll from her and a deep snort from him. Once she takes off, her silvery blond curls flying behind her, I hotly demand, "What is it now?"

"This is a tap house, love." Because I don't immediately grasp what he's trying to say, he bends his head down to mine and whispers in my ear, "Meaning that most of us order beer. It makes poor Michaela's job a lot easier."

“Michaela,” I repeat. It has to be a coincidence that the bartender’s name is the same as Jace’s ex-employee. The one he was very good friends with. The one who was fired from EXtreme for unknown reasons, and—

“It’s the same Michaela,” he drawls, and when my shoulder blades arch together involuntarily, he adds, “Your eyes were darting just now. I could tell you were thinking very, very hard.”

“You’re imagining things,” I lie, placing an elbow on the counter. I rest my chin in my hand. When he just stares back at me, his mouth curved in amusement, I ask, “But obviously, she knows how to make a mojito, yes?"

"Michaela can make anything," he confirms. I bet she can. I feel a nasty wiggle of envy because I already know they were lovers, but now I’m wondering if they still are. It's none of my business, but every time I glance her way, my eyebrows creep closer and closer together.

"So, Ash. What's Ash going to do?" I change the subject, hoping it will keep my thoughts from veering to the beautiful woman with the mess of wild, crazy curls. I trace a row of triangles into the condensation on his half-finished glass with the tip of my index finger. "Since he's not going to press charges."

"Replace his shit." Jace drags his glass away from me and my shoddy attempt at artwork and takes a deep gulp before letting me have at it again. "Hopefully he'll learn more about the crazy slags he—”

“That’s an awful word.”

“If the platform stripper heel fits, Williams…” He rolls his eyes. “As I was saying, hopefully he’ll learn more about the crazies he fucks before he lets them move in with him. And if he does let someone move in, he'll kick her out when they break it off instead of letting her hang around for months and leech off him while she fucks every cock that swipes right."

Risking a peek over my shoulder, I feel my throat tighten at the sight of Ash's forlorn expression. Gwendolyn's doing her best to perk him up—all while giving him the same look I probably offered to Jace earlier this evening in my office. The look I pray he doesn't notice.

"Does he realize your cousin is into him?"

"Ehhh." He lifts a hand, tilting it from side to side. "They try to keep things the way they are. Don't want to fuck up a good thing. Plus, she does the occasional work at the shop—helping to pack big shipments. It would be awkward if things went to hell."

Michaela returns to our spot at the bar, plunks our drinks down in front of us, and then slinks away without another word.

She’s still screwing him.

That thought makes me wilt a little more inside.

"I wouldn’t take you for the type to frequent your pissed-off ex-employee’s bar," I blurt out before I give myself a chance to reconsider my words because it’s obvious I wanted to replace employee with girlfriend. Damn, I feel like a fool now. He maneuvers himself ninety degrees on the stool so that his knees brush the outside of my thigh. His beautiful eyes pinch in a playful frown.

"What do you take me as then, Lucy?”

"The type to avoid them at all costs." I say, my voice hoarse. I run my tongue over my lips and look down at his hand resting on his lap. He’s drumming an uneven beat. “Why did you fire her?”

“Why do you care?”

Because I feel a pang of envy every time she looks our way, and I realize she’s been with you. Because there’s lighting beneath my skin whenever we touch. “I don’t.”