Stay with Me (Wait for You, #3)(79)

“What’s this I hear about you and Jackson almost getting run over by a car today?” Melvin asked, and I was reminded, once again, how fast news traveled.

I glanced at his buddy, and was unsure of what to say.

“That’s Arthur.” Melvin nodded at his friend. “This is Mona’s daughter.”

Arthur’s heavily lined face crinkled as dark eyes centered on me. “Good to meet you, darlin’.”

Giving him a short, somewhat awkward, wave, I admitted to being almost run over, but downplayed it to a run-in with a really bad driver since I didn’t want to worry either of them. Melvin didn’t look too convinced when he patted my arm and told me to be careful.

The crowd didn’t thin as the night wore on, and when I replaced Nick for break, I was happy to be behind the bar and not out running the floor like a madwoman.

I was making two J?ger bombs when I looked up and saw them. Well, I saw him first and almost dropped the smaller glass in a way one was not supposed to drop it in a J?ger bomb.

The guy was huge—like bigger and broader than Jax, even taller. He wore a black shirt that stretched taut over a defined chest and arms. His brown hair was buzzed on the sides, a little longer on the top, and it stood straight up, a little longer than Jax’s, which looked like it would be curly if it grew out. This guy had an angular face with definite Hispanic descent. Smooth brown skin covered high cheekbones and thick brown lashes framed dark eyes. There was a crescent-shaped scar under his left eye and another under the center of his lip, cutting into it.

He looked bad—like bad in a very good way.

The girl trailing behind him seriously could’ve been Britney Spears in the flesh—Catholic-schoolgirl Britney. Her blond hair was wavy and cut perfectly to frame a heart-shaped face. She had full lips and big brown eyes and a nice body. How did I know she had a nice body? Because most of it was on display.

She was wearing a strappy tank top that showed her trim midriff and a short jean skirt that revealed awesome tan legs. The chick had to-die-for boobs, and she was universally hot.

And she wasn’t paying attention to the big, handsome guy next to her. She was staring straight at the bar. Not at me. Not at Roxy. Her brown gaze was fixed on the side of the bar farthest from Roxy and me.

On Jax.

Aaand she wasn’t just looking at him.

“Do you know who that is?” Roxy asked, shoveling up a buttload of ice. “That hot as hell guy right over there?”

My gaze shifted from the girl to him. “How could I not notice?” I handed over the J?ger bombs with a smile and took the money. “Who is he?” I asked when I really wanted to know who was she and why was she staring at Jax like he was for dinner.

“Brock,” Roxy answered, and started fanning herself. “The Brock.”

“Um? Who?” I asked as I turned to a college-age guy. “What can I get you?”

“That’s Brock ‘the Beast’ Mitchell,” the guy said instead of answering, and I blinked. “You don’t know who he is?”

I glanced over at “the Beast” and shook my head. “Should I?”

The guy snorted as he shook his head. “He does MMA—a pretty big deal. Or about to become a big deal.” He looked over, an expression of awe creeping into his face. “Man, he is not a dude I’d want to piss off. Didn’t know he was in town. Anyway, I’ll take a Bud.”

Grabbing the beer, I peeked over at Brock. I knew what MMA was—mixed martial arts, and I was guessing a pretty big deal meant he was fighting pro on one of those circuits that Cam and Jase were obsessed with. I knew for a fact that the guy wasn’t local. I would’ve remembered a face like that even if he’d been a whole lot smaller in our high school days.

“Cool,” I murmured, handing over the beer.

The guy forgot my existence as he took his drink and started toward Brock like he was drawn to the guy.

“Oh shit.” Roxy straightened, and I saw she was staring at the girl now. She spun, and her gaze landed on Jax. “Oh shit.”

“What?” My heart did a jump in my chest.

Roxy whirled toward me, her lips puckered like she tasted something bad. “That’s Aimee—Aimee with two e’s and an i.”

“Okay.” It was official. I was confused.

“I have no idea what she’s doing with Brock. Well, okay, I have a couple of ideas, but I have no idea why she is here with Brock.”

And now I was starting to get a real bad feeling about this, especially because several guys crowded Brock, and Aimee with two e’s wasn’t even paying attention to him. She was starting around the huddle.

Roxy looked like she’d just walked into a spiderweb and was about to start flailing, and there were people who needed to be served, but my gaze was tracking Aimee, and as she made it halfway across the length of the bar, I looked at Jax.

Leaning against the counter, he was handing over two mixed drinks to a group of giggling girls, and as he straightened and looked over, his gaze moved past Aimee with an i and then bounced back. He blinked, straightened as if someone had grabbed his ass, and my stomach sank a little.

Oh no.

“Oh no,” echoed Roxy.

Aimee with two e’s squeezed in between the giggling girls and an older guy, planted her hands on the bar top, and stretched up, which made her boobalicious boobs strain against the tank top.