“Serving customers at the bar,” I sulk.
Ryan chuckles. “Who’s there? Rachel or Kyra? Or Tegan?”
I turn my head to glare at Ryan. “What the hell, Ryan?”
“What? You’re a nice girl and…”
“Ryan,” Reid seethes, walking in and glaring at his brother. They have a silent conversation, until finally Ryan sighs, obviously giving in.
“Summer, watch the bar for a sec,” Reid says, dismissing me. His eyes are still on his brother. I jump up off the table and walk out, making sure not to touch Reid as I exit. I close the door behind me and stand in from of the cash register. There are no customers waiting to be served, so I just wipe down the table, wondering what the hell those two could be talking about. A shiver runs down my spine alerting me that Reid is behind me.
“You okay?” he rumbles, his body close but not touching mine.
“Fine,” I huff, looking around for something else to clean.
“Summer…”
“Who is that girl?” I ask, cutting him off. I sound like a jealous wife but seriously, I know that everyone is keeping things from me. I just want to know why, or in this case who.
“Don’t worry about her, Summer,” he says in a bored tone, and I can tell it annoys him that I’m questioning him, demanding answers. Well, too freaking bad.
“What’s her name?” I ask, spinning to face him.
“I don’t belong to you, Summer,” he says, putting me in my place.
I swallow hard, having a hard time maintaining eye contact with his intense gaze. “You’re right.”
I step away and around him, walking back into the office. “Hey Ryan, do you still need me?”
“No babe, you can go. Tag will be back here in about twenty minutes anyway. I’m about to head out, too,” he says, stacking papers into a neat pile.
“Can you give me a lift home?” I ask him, shifting on my feet. He gives me a curious look before nodding.
“Of course I can. You know I can never turn down a pretty face.” He smirks.
“Trust me, I know,” I mutter, earning me a chuckle from the man in question.
“I’ll meet you at your car.” I walk out of the bar without glancing at Reid, although I can feel his eyes on me. I stand in the car park, suddenly realising I have no idea which car Ryan drives. I’ve seen him driving Reid’s Jeep but obviously he didn’t come in that today because Reid did.
When Ryan walks out holding two helmets, a slow smile spreads on my lips. I could almost do a happy dance, that’s how much I love being on the back of a bike.
“I didn’t know you had a bike,” I say as he puts the helmet on me.
“We all have bikes, babe,” he says, shaking his head at me.
Reid has a motorcycle?
“Yes, Reid has one. It’s a beast of a bike, too,” Ryan says.
Did I say that aloud?
“Your face shows everything you’re thinking, Summer,” he says, that perpetual grin on his smug face.
I roll my eyes and jump on.
Chapter Six
Reid is absent for the next few days, working different shifts than me. Every time our paths do manage to cross, I try not to look at him, which is harder than I thought it would be.
Thursday rolls around, and Tag and I are alone in the bar from six pm until closing, which can be anywhere from midnight til three am, depending on how many customers we have. I’m making a cocktail when I see Reid walk in, looking agitated. His eyes shift as he looks around the bar, before he stares straight at me. He shakes his head slightly from side to side, as if to clear it, and then heads into the back. He comes out moments later with Ryan, who is also acting a little off. Ryan approaches me and offers me a smile that doesn’t reach his ocean blue eyes.
“We’re off. If Tag wants to close early, that’s fine. Also don’t go anywhere alone, alright?” he says, placing his hand on my shoulder.
“Okay. Is everything alright?” I ask, worried. Something feels off.
“Its fine, don’t worry. Tag is gonna keep an eye on you.” He places a chaste kiss on my temple. I look back at Reid who is standing at the door watching us. I look down when it looks like he's just going to leave without saying a word.
It really hurts.
The night goes slow as ever, even working with Tag, which is usually a heap of fun. Reid is right about Tag and women, he makes even Ryan look good. A man walks up to the bar and waits for me to serve him.
“What can I get you?” I ask him.
“You can give me your name, for a start,” he says, leering at me. Working at a bar, being hit on is kind of expected. But I still don’t really like or welcome it. Some men can take for no for an answer, but others…