After Hours (InterMix)(39)
He nodded. “Evening.”
“Hey.” I stopped a few feet in front of him, glancing demonstrably around us. “Gorgeous day.”
“More gorgeous still, that we don’t have to spend it in there.” He nodded across the road at the Larkhaven gates, then stood up straight and went around to open my door. “You look nice.”
I glanced at my top. “I thought the gray would bring out my bruise. How’s your temple?”
He pressed the white bandage. “’S fine. Ready to go?”
I nodded and slid into the passenger side.
“Where are we eating?” I asked him as he started up the truck.
“There’s burgers and that kind of shit at the bar, and an Italian place, and a taco place.”
“Don’t tell me I actually get a say? Kelly, you spoil me. Next I’ll get to pick my own drink.”
He smirked at me then pulled us away from the curb. “You’re feisty tonight.”
“Funny what getting punched in the face by your own car does to you. And burgers are fine.” Burgers and dim bar lighting to hide my eye, and a place I’d be able to call familiar after this second visit.
“As you wish.”
“We’re not messing around tonight,” I informed him as we reached the main road.
“I never mess around. I’m all business in the sack.”
“Seriously. I’m not doing a thing with you tonight. And if I change my mind—which I won’t—I’m counting on you to be gentleman enough to respect the wishes I’m laying out right now, in this truck.”
“Fine. Not tonight. That leaves plenty of other nights.”
I sighed, watching the woods slip past and spotting a deer frozen amid the maples. Run if you’re smart, honey. I glanced at the hunter in the driver’s seat. Too late.
We shot the shit about our days off, and Kelly told me a bit more about the city when the fields fell back and mummified factories and mills rose up from the horizon. He parked in front of Lola’s, in the very same spot as the last visit.
Again, the place was bustling despite it being a school night. We took seats at the bar and Kelly leaned over the counter to grab me a menu.
“Seems busy for a Sunday,” I said, scanning the fare.
“Unemployment breeds boredom, breeds alcoholism.”
“That’s very cheerful, Kelly. Thank you.”
The bartender came by and Kelly looked to me.
“I’ll have a light beer, please.” I said it perkily, with a big smile in Kelly’s direction. When the bartender left us to pour I asked, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
He shrugged. “I’ll pick my battles.” He said it in a cocky, lazy way that implied those battles would most definitely be waged betwixt my spread thighs.
Our beers arrived, and I ordered a cheeseburger and onion rings.
“So,” he said. “Who gave you that shiner? What’s his name?”
Marco lived forty miles away on the other side of Larkhaven, but I wasn’t giving Kelly a scrap to go on.
“I’m not telling you. Bad enough I get dragged into my sister’s drama. I don’t need my coworkers joining the party.”
He raised an eyebrow at me, irises motley neon once again. “That all I am to you? Your coworker?”
“What would you prefer? Friends? Mentor and student?”
“Lovers?”
“More like dodged bullets.”
“You can’t dodge me forever.”
“Watch me try,” I told him, and sipped my beer.
Amused, he shook his head. I stared at him while he drank. He really is handsome, once you get used to the scars and catch him smiling. I really would like to sleep with him.
But bossy prick or not, Kelly was good enough a guy that my head would get all murky, if we f*cked. I’d get a crush on him, no matter how passionately I swore to myself I wouldn’t. And once he pounced, brought me down, sucked the marrow from my bones and licked his fingers clean, then what? A prize won, more likely than not. A box checked. And his lost interest would hurt all the more, because I’d have seen it coming a mile off. Run, little deer. And keep on running.
Our food arrived before long. My burger tasted like pure, meaty, cheesy decadence after a week’s worth of frozen dinners nuked in the crusty communal microwave. I caught Kelly eyeing me and wiped the mustard I felt at the edge of my mouth. He licked the same spot on his own lips, a subconscious-looking reflex.