Lead Me Home (Fight for Me #3)(128)

Everyone wanted a piece of Sebastian Stone.

I would have given her one, too, let her use me up. But I’d have used her up faster. A meaningless night wrapped up in long, long legs, all that golden hair and caramel eyes and a sugar mouth I was dying to taste.

I’d sat there silent, daring her. But she’d seemed lost in her own little daze, like she was really trying to see inside me and not the guy everyone else pretended to know.

It’d become clear quickly she had no idea who I was. And I guess that’s why I was here. There was something incredibly appealing about her having no clue. It felt good that she wasn’t looking at me like some sort of fucked-up prize, something to brag to her girlfriends about after she’d danced all over my dick. Something comforting in her not knowing the gossip and garbage that stewed around my name, that she didn’t know the half-truths and straight-up lies.

Best of all, she didn’t know the real truth, because that was so much worse than anything else someone could ever make up.

Slowly, my head lifted—like she had some kind of tether attached to it, her tugging soft and slow but greedy at the same time.

I met her eyes.

Caramel.

Sweet.

Kind.

Cautious.

Still they wandered, taking in my face, dropping to trace my arms, lingering on my hands. No. I hadn’t been hallucinating. That same tension was palpable, dense and deep. Pulling me deeper.

Finally she focused back on me. “Hi,” she said, everything about it self-conscious and adorable. “You’re back.”

I stretched out further, relaxing into the plush booth. “You remember me?”

Dropping her gaze, she raked her teeth over her bottom lip like she was searching for what she wanted to say, before she looked back at me with an incredulous grin lifted on one side of her mouth. “That was just last night…and you left me a fifty-dollar tip.”

The last was almost an accusation.

A short chuckle rumbled from me. “What? Great service.”

She rolled her eyes a little, her tone sarcastic. Playful. “Right. On one drink. That’s the hardest I’ve worked in my entire life.”

I shrugged. “It was nothing.”

She studied me for a second, like she was trying to figure me out, before she softened. “Thank you.”

It was honest and sincere and took me completely by surprise. Wasn’t used to people thanking me for anything. I was used to them expecting something.

A lump grew in my throat, and that strange feeling was back in full force, a weight I couldn’t decipher.

She looked away like she was trying to gather herself. A fake smile was plastered on her face when she returned her attention to me. She’d used it on me last night. A defense, like she wanted to hide. I had the overwhelming urge to reach out and smear it from her mouth with my thumb, smudge out all the counterfeit so she’d again watch me with the blatant curiosity I was watching her with now.

Because when she looked at me like that, I felt real.

“So what can I get for you tonight?”

You.

“Same as last night.”

Her feigned smile faltered, replaced with a twitch of something genuine and amused. “Charlie’s going to want to come shake your hand. Said he finally had a guy in here with good taste.” That genuine smile spread, this time with a flash of white, straight teeth. “Really, I think it’s just because he likes guys like you who can run up the bar tab.”

She winked, and I squirmed.

God, this girl was something else.

“Charlie?”

“The owner…my uncle.” She jerked her head toward the bar to the ratty, bearded guy slinging a drink while he talked to a couple of women tossing them back at the bar. “He’s owned this place forever. Feels like I’ve worked for him for just as long.”

“Huh,” I said by way of acknowledgment, but really I was taking note of the guy who was Anthony’s friend, wondering how much he knew.

Awkwardly, she stepped back and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear like she’d sensed my sudden unease. “Let me run and grab that for you. I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks.”

It took her all of two minutes before she returned, sliding the drink my direction. I reached out to meet the action, brushing her hand as the glass came to a stop on the table in front of me.

Dark.

Light.

More.

Confused eyes darted to mine, and her body went rigid.

What the hell are you doing?

I heard her question without her asking it.

Truth was, I didn’t fucking know why I was doing what I was doing. All I knew was I couldn’t stop. All I knew was the curiosity that had brought me back here had turned to straight up want.

I swallowed hard, tipped the glass her direction. “Thank you.”

I could feel her hand shaking as she slowly pulled away. “You’re welcome.”

She left me there to sip at my drink, the liquid burning as it slid down my throat and pooled like fire in my stomach.

Loved that feeling.

The way it soothed and hurt at the same time.

But tonight I wasn’t entirely sure if it was the alcohol or this girl causing the effect, the way my limbs felt a little fumbly and my mouth felt dry. I watched her as she made her way around her tables, laughing lightly. Friendly. Real.