by Elle Thorpe
“So how did we score this table?” I yelled in Bianca’s direction, over the thumping bass pouring through the speakers.
“Riley’s brother Mark owns the club,” she yelled back. She pointed across the room to a guy serving behind the bar, who was as adorable as Riley was. Even from this distance and in the dim light, I could see how alike they were. “They’re twins,” she yelled again, and I nodded.
“I’m the good-looking twin,” Riley piped up with a laugh. They had different haircuts, and Mark wasn’t sporting a lip ring, but I could definitely tell they were brothers.
“So how come you work at the racecourse bar instead of here?”
Riley shook his head. “Ever heard of the saying never work with family? Well, it’s even more true if you’re twins, and if your twin is your boss.”
“I can understand that.” My words sounded flat, even to my own ears. I’d learnt the hard way just how true it was. I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a smile, as Riley continued with his conversation, not realising the effect his words had had on me. Low was looking at me, though, and I avoided the curiosity in his gaze. Damn this booth. Why couldn’t we have sat at the bar where I wouldn’t have to look at his icy blue eyes? Drinks. I needed drinks.
I went to stand up but stopped when Low stood and offered to go to the bar. Relief coursed through me once I was out from under his gaze, but I couldn’t help watching his broad shoulders as he moved through the crowd of people on the dance floor.
“What’s up with you tonight?” Jamison asked me.
Riley and Bianca were deep in conversation about something, paying no attention to the rest of us.
“Me? Nothing. Just looking forward to that drink. Was a busy shift, yeah? Where’s your girlfriend? I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
Jamison ignored my obvious attempt at changing the subject. “He’s not normally like this, you know. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. But I’m worried. I’ve never seen him look this down. Or subdued.”
“Who?” I asked, feigning ignorance. I was glad the music was loud because my voice was coming out all high and unnatural. Jamison gave me a look that clearly said he knew I was being dumb. He didn’t even bother answering my stupid question. I didn’t blame him.
“I don’t know what happened with you guys. But if that’s why he’s being weird, you two need to sort it out. We’ve all worked together for a long time, and we need you to stick around too. You saw this week how much it sucks to be a team member down.”
“Nothing happened with us,” I blurted out. Low was on his way back towards our table. “I don’t know what his problem is, but it isn’t me.”
Low placed the drinks down in front of us, and I gave him an overenthusiastic smile. He tilted his head to the side slightly, confusion warring on his features before he tentatively smiled back at me.
I gave Jamison a, ‘see? We’re fine’ look. He didn’t look convinced. Oh well. I had a buzz to get on, and this club was full of eligible men.
I sipped at my glass of wine, letting Bianca and Riley monopolise the conversation. It wasn’t long before I was grabbing the wine bottle and pouring myself another.
By the bottom of my second glass, I could feel myself loosening up and my shoulders beginning to move to the beat of the music. We’d been so busy at work, I’d skipped my lunch break, just grabbing a few bites of a sandwich in the kitchen hours ago. My head had just an edge of fog from drinking my two glasses of wine too quickly, and I was feeling the songs the DJ was playing. Old school ’90s RNB and hip hop vibrated through the room, and the dance floor was jumping with bodies. Most had come straight from the racecourse so were already tanked enough to be cutting ridiculous dance moves. But who cared? I was ready to dance. Plus, there was only so much avoiding of Low I could do when I was sitting right across from him.
“Let’s dance,” I yelled to Bianca, pulling her away from Riley, who gave me a look of annoyance. I raised an eyebrow at him as I grabbed her hand and pulled her up.
“Is something going on with you and Riley?”
“What? I can’t hear you,” she yelled.
I shook my head, indicating that it didn’t matter, but when I looked back over my shoulder at the booth, Riley wasn’t the only one watching us walk away.
My hips swayed in time to the beat as we reached the dance floor. Let him look.
Them.
I meant let them look. Not just Low. Ugh, whatever.
Bianca moved in time to the beat, a huge grin on her face, singing along to the song. I did my best to keep up with her, suddenly realising that maybe I wasn’t quite drunk enough for dancing. She was having such a great time, though, and her enthusiasm was infectious. The song changed, and she held up a finger in my face. “Wait here a minute. I’m going to get us some shots!”
I nodded and tried not to feel self-conscious that I was now dancing alone.
I spun around, still moving in time with the music, and searched out our booth. Riley and Jamison were deep in conversation; a leggy blonde I’d never seen before, but I assumed was the girlfriend, draping herself over Jamison’s side. But Low had his eyes trained on me. So much for just staying for one drink. He’d had at least three that I’d noticed. Sprawled across the booth like he owned it, he looked much more like the overconfident Low from last week. One muscled arm rested along the back of the seat, his long legs spread underneath the table. I ran my tongue over my lips. The pained look he’d worn all day was gone, his features relaxed, probably thanks to the alcohol he’d consumed. My heart sped up when he didn’t look away.
I wished I wasn’t wearing my work uniform. It wasn’t sexy in any way, shape, or form, and the skirt was hard to dance in. I hiked it up a little, so the hem settled at mid-thigh instead of around my knees. That was better. I could move my legs enough now to dance the way I wanted to. Every beat thrummed through me, along with the alcohol. Low’s eyes on me made my heart thump unevenly. I undid my top button. It was the best I could do with what I had.
Judging from the look on Low’s face, he didn’t mind the view. His gaze burnt through me, and though I tried to look away, my eyes kept finding his. That same tension from a week ago was back, stronger than ever.
I couldn’t deny I wanted him. Still. Even though he’d ditched me. Maybe it was that I hadn’t gotten what I’d wanted last week. Maybe it was that everything about him intrigued me. I didn’t know, but there was something between us that crackled like tangible energy. The way I was dancing; staring at him and only him was an open invitation. One he looked like he wanted to accept. I could see his leg bouncing underneath the table, and he gripped his drink with an iron fist. He was holding himself back, and I didn’t understand why.
Without warning, Low’s face darkened, and I felt a set of hands on my hips. I dragged my eyes away from him and turned to find a tall blond man dancing behind me. Dancing wasn’t really the right word. He was grinding on my backside.
“Hey, sweet thing, want to dance?”
I sighed. I should tell this guy to back off. But this was what I did, wasn’t it? I went out. I drank. I danced. I took men home, and then for a few blissful minutes or hours, depending on the man and how drunk I was, I got to forget about my life, my past and the one mistake I’d made that I’d never forgive myself for. I’d already given Low one chance, and he hadn’t taken me up on it. Who cared how hot he was or about the tension between us that was so thick I could almost see it? I’d get my fix somewhere else if he didn’t want it.
I turned my body to face the groper, and his hands slid to my ass. He wasn’t wasting any time, was he? He was good-looking in a slick, smooth sort of way. His features a little too sharp for my taste but not unpleasant. He had nothing on Low, though. Groper grinned at me, looking like he’d just won a prize, and I forced myself to smile back. Any other night, I would have been flirting up a storm with this guy, and I’d have him out of here and back in my bed in less than half an hour. But tonight, I wasn’t feeli
ng it.
Without warning, he lurched forward and pressed his lips against mine. I opened my mouth and let his tongue in, but it was an automatic reaction. There was no passion in the kiss for me. It was sloppy and drunk, and I felt none of the heat or excitement I’d felt in the past when I let a man kiss me. When Low had kissed me.
God. Why was I doing this? I pulled back, pushing on his chest to create a little room between us, when suddenly there was a mile of room between us. The groper stumbled back onto the dance floor like I’d electrocuted him. It took a second to realise that Low was behind him, pulling him off me. My mouth dropped open.
“Get your hands off her. Can’t you see she isn’t interested?” Low bellowed, his voice deep with just a hint of dangerous. He was completely in control of himself, though, his tone calm despite the volume. I was anything but. My pulse spiked, my heart thumping in my chest.
The groper was looking between the two of us, waiting for me to say something. When I didn’t, he held his hands up in surrender and slunk away. Which left Low and me staring at each other with about a foot of dance floor between us, and a handful of onlookers, waiting to see what would happen next.
Low moved towards me until he was so close I had to tilt my head back to look up at him. I wasn’t about to take a step back. I told myself it was because I wouldn’t back down to him, but the heat pooling within me told me that maybe I just wanted to be closer to him.
“You eye-fuck me all night, then let that tosser kiss you? What kind of game are you playing?”
My blood instantly boiled. “I’m not the one playing games, Low. I might have been”—I raised my hands and forced my fingers into air quotes—“eye-fucking you, but you ignored an open invitation.” I pushed his chest, frustration rising when he didn’t budge a centimetre. “And while we’re laying cards on the table, I’m not the one who left you high and dry in the middle of an alley less than a week ago. So don’t talk to me about playing games. You could have had me twice now if you’d wanted. You snooze, you lose, Low.”
My eyes burned into him. But right alongside the anger was something else. My traitorous body was turned on, every nerve ending coming alive in his presence. And the way he moved even closer, so close that my breasts brushed his chest, didn’t help.
Just kiss me, asshole.
Every fibre of my being wanted to pick up where we left off last week. His chest heaved, and his breathing became rapid. Those ice blue eyes dropped to my lips. A little spark of excitement exploded within me. I leant in farther, my nipples thanking me for the increased friction against his chest. Kiss me, Low. I’m standing here, putting myself on the line yet again. He leant down just a little, and I braced myself for the impact of his lips. My eyes were shuttering when I saw him look away and he stepped back.
“I can’t give you what you want.” The words got lost in the music, but I didn’t need to hear the words to understand him. I got the message crystal clear. My spark of excitement fizzled out as surely as if he’d thrown a bucket of cold water over me.
He spun around, no doubt searching for the exit so he could ditch me again. In his hurry to get away from me, he walked right into a bar table, the whole thing coming crashing down to the floor. Empty glasses shattered into pieces at his feet.
My hand flew to my mouth. Well, fuck. If we hadn’t already made a scene, we sure as hell had now.
Low was already down on his hands and knees, trying to pick up the glass shards. Without thinking, my bar training kicked in and I dashed over and knelt down to help him. It was only when I was next to him that I saw the gash on his palm. Bright red blood spilled from the deep cut, and I saw him wince with pain as he used his other hand to cover it. Blood still dripped between his fingers, splattering on the glass shards and the dirty club floor.
In a heartbeat, I forgot how angry I was with him.
“Low.” I reached out. “That looks bad, let me see.”
His head snapped up, his face filled with horror. He jerked his hand away from my outstretched fingers. “Don’t!” he yelled. I jumped and pulled my hand back as if I’d been burned. “Don’t touch me,” he said again, quieter this time. Someone in the crowd knelt next to us and moved to help clean up the glass.
“I’ve got this!” Low growled at the stranger. I stared at him dumbfounded. What the hell had gotten into him? I couldn’t even help him with a cut? And he was yelling at complete strangers now as well?
Mark, Riley’s brother, appeared and crouched next to Low. Low turned and said something in his ear. I was still kneeling, dumbfounded, so I saw when Mark’s head nodded slowly. He clapped Low on the back before telling people to move back and give him some space. Mark looked to me, his face deadly serious. “You, too.”
Mark walked off, presumably to get a clean-up bucket. Low didn’t look up. He was crouched on the floor, his chin on his chest, clutching his hand and protecting his pile of glass like a mother hen protecting her chicks.
“Gladly,” I said, my words as cold as his eyes. My cheeks blazed with embarrassment and I fought to keep hot, angry tears at bay. Confusion and self-doubt tugged at me. I was done. Done with this whole night and more than done with Low and his mixed signals.
I stood up stiffly and made my way to the exit. I didn’t even have my bag, but at that moment I didn’t care. All I cared about was getting out of that club and as far away from Low as possible.
8
Low
I couldn’t concentrate. My eyes kept straying from my customers, seeking Reese out. Every time she moved, I forgot an order. Every time she spoke I dropped a glass or poured the wrong beer. I couldn’t get my head in the game today.
We’d worked two shifts together since the incident at the club, and she still wouldn’t talk to me. I hadn’t tried speaking to her either. We seemed pretty set on avoiding each other.
Across the room, her eyes met mine for a moment, before she jerked her head around. But it was long enough for me to see the anger still illuminated there. I sighed. My silence was because I didn’t understand how I’d managed to fuck things up with her so royally, in such a short space of time.
“You two are the biggest downers,” Jamison complained as we cleaned up the bar for the next day’s trading. He was right; we were.
“Sorry, I’m just tired, I think,” Reese said quietly.
Her voice cut through me, as it had all day. I closed my eyes, tossing my cloth in the sink. It had been a huge mistake to go to the club the other night, when I knew I needed to leave her alone. I’d made things so much worse. When I’d seen that guy grab her hips, I hadn’t even thought about it. I’d seen red; the jealousy streaking through me like a lightning bolt. When he’d leant in and kissed her, I’d wanted to kill him, right then and there with my bare hands, in front of three hundred witnesses.
I rubbed at my eyes, a headache beginning to pound behind them. This was the shift that would never end. Her presence engulfed me every minute—the slightest of touches as we both reached for a bottle, her perfume drifting around me, filling my nose. The tension between us was layered so thick, I could almost taste it, and the unnatural silence that descended over us was so awkward, it was the elephant in the room. It was too much, and I couldn’t take it a second longer.
I spun around to face Jamison. “I’m going to take off. Do you mind?”
The bar closed in half an hour, and I didn’t have to ask his permission; I outranked him. But he was a mate, and it was enough that Reese hated me right now. I didn’t need to add anyone else to the list.
My stomach dropped at the thought they might all want nothing to do with me once they found out anyway.
Jamison shook his head. “Go, we’re just counting down the clock.”
I grabbed my wallet and keys and left without saying goodbye to anyone. I felt Reese’s eyes burning holes in my back as I fled through the glass doors that led out to the racetrack.
Outside, the sun splashed oranges and pinks across the horizon. I breathed
raggedly, letting the fresh air flood my lungs. Part of me was freed by every step I took away from Reese and the tension between us. But the other half of me craved her presence like a drug I couldn’t say no to. I’d never had more than a fleeting interest in anyone, yet something about her made me want more. Maybe it was solely because I couldn’t have her, but maybe not. Something deep in my gut told me it was just her. I wanted to find out, but I’d stuffed up any chance of that. There were so many things I’d do differently if I could go back. If I’d never met Mason. If I hadn’t been so fucking drunk and stupid.
I wandered down to the racetrack railing and leant on it, the edge cutting into my skin. I welcomed the sting. How had this all gotten so complicated? Her face, full of hurt and anger, burned in my memory. After I’d cut my hand on that damn glass, panic had coursed through me, fear for her making my blood run cold. Keeping her away from it and safe had been my only concern. My fear had come out as anger, though, and I’d yelled at her. Guilt swirled through my stomach. I hated myself for the way I’d acted. She had every right to hate me right now.
A horse galloped past me on a training run, but I barely registered its presence. I wanted to rewind the clock and go back to the day Reese had arrived at the bar. Go back to the fun flirtation we’d had going. The tension between us was tangible from the minute I’d laid eyes on her. I’d wanted her. And the fact she hadn’t been shy about pursuing what she wanted? Hot. Everything about her appealed to me. From her silky, almost-black hair to her deep brown eyes, her sassy attitude to her confidence. And there was something vulnerable about her that she tried to hide. She played her cards close to her chest, which only made me more intrigued. Then Mason had dropped his fucking bomb-shell and everything had gotten messed up.
I needed to leave her alone and get my personal shit together. I knew it, but I didn’t want to.
Frustrated, I pushed off the railing and headed for the back area of the racetrack. Holding my staff-swipe key up to a little black scanner, I waited for the light to blink green. The door lock sprang open, and I slipped through, making sure it locked behind me.