“Oh,” was all I could manage.
Blaine grinned crookedly, his warm chocolate eyes heating into a smolder. “Screaming orgasm.”
“Huh…what?” I juggled the glass in my hand, almost dropping it.
He chuckled, and I had to admit, it was a fascinating sound. Husky and sexy. He ran a hand through his perfectly unruly hair. “I want a Screaming Orgasm. You do know what those are, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” I mumbled, assembling the cocktail. Yeah, I knew what they were from prior bartending jobs, but unfortunately I had only experienced them in drink form.
Once the shot was perfectly garnished, despite my slightly shaky hands, I slid the drink over to him. It wasn’t far since he had made it a point to only leave a few inches between us.
Blaine took the tall shot in his hands, appraising it thoroughly, then brought the glass to his mouth and took a small sip, licking his lips afterwards. It gave me full view of that tongue ring, and I felt I could die happy right then and there.
“Mmmm,” he groaned lightly. I had to suck my lips in to stifle my own reaction. He turned to me and held up the glass just inches from my face. “Taste it,” he breathed, the words audible only to me. Before I could take the shot glass from him, he was pressing it to my lips gently, his gaze predatory. As my lips parted, so did his, as if he was guiding the movement. He tilted it back, the sweet-strong mix of vodka and creamy liquor trickling down my throat and warming my chest.
“You like it?” he asked just above a whisper as he brought the glass down, his eyes never leaving mine.
I licked my lips slowly, probably too slow to be considered totally innocent. “Yes.”
“I like it too.” Blaine’s eyes drifted down to my lips and he began running the top row of his teeth along his bottom lip as if he was contemplating whether or not to kiss me. His breathing was just as labored and heavy as mine, anticipation flowing through our veins. This was bad. Very, very bad.
Angel’s jingling laughter ringing throughout the bar doused the heated moment like ice water. We jerked apart and looked sheepishly towards her and Mick as if we had been caught red-handed. Nothing had happened, but for some reason I felt guilty and a little exhilarated. No…a lot exhilarated.
Blaine grabbed the blank application from the bar and handed it to me. “So, um, just fill that out, and someone should give you a call,” he mumbled without looking at me. Then, without further explanation, he turned and disappeared through a door a few feet away.
Mick frowned at Blaine’s retreating back, and the guilt crept back in, making the exhilaration I felt just moments ago go up in a puff of smoke. Of course, he must’ve seen our flirting. Assuming he was the boss, he surely wouldn’t want his bartender canoodling with a potential employee.
I filled out the form, although I didn’t have high hopes of getting the position. I knew that it was definitely for the best. I had vowed to never get involved with a coworker again, and a part of me, a part mostly comprised of hormones, was already very much involved with Blaine.
I chalked up that whole experience as being the last time I would see the scary-beautiful bartender. And that thought bothered me more than it should.
We were just sitting down to eat takeout sushi when our home phone rang. It was odd since hardly anyone called the house. Usually it was reserved for random parental calls which none of us received more than once or twice a month. Angel rolled her eyes and went to grab it, figuring she was due for a judgment-laced talk from Mr. and Mrs. Cassidy. I shot her a sympathetic look when she answered. However, when she paused after her greeting, her brows shot up with excitement—a reaction that would definitely not accompany a call from her parents.
“Guess what, losers?” she giggled, after hanging up with the mystery caller and rejoining us on the couch. “AngelDust just got invited for an exclusive audition at Dive! I guess a ton of other acts were inquiring about the steady weekend slot, so they’re holding live tryouts this Friday. Only two other bands were invited!”
“Oh wow! That’s great, Angel!” I beamed, dropping my chopsticks and giving her a hug. “So, um, that was, um, Blaine or…”
“Oh no, that wasn’t your badass, boy-toy bartender. That was Mick. I’m guessing he runs the place and wanted to invite us personally.”
I fought the frown creeping onto my face. “So…he didn’t want to speak with me? About the job?”
“Oh shit, Kam! I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask!” She squeezed my arm in apology before grabbing a tray of edamame. “I’m sure he’ll get around to calling you.”