Fear of Falling(68)

“Oh, Kami wants the D, Kami wants the D, ohhhh, Kami wants Blaine’s big nasty D,” Angel sang sweetly.

I shoved Angel’s arm off me. “No, Kami does not want the D.” (Yes, she did.) “And, no, I did not have sex with Blaine!” (But I wanted to.)

“See! I told you; I know my girl!” Dom exclaimed before kissing the side of my face. “Not everyone is totally slut-tastic like you, Angel.”

“Pffft. Yes they are,” Angel retorted, twirling a lock of blonde hair. “They are just too scared to admit it.”

“I need to get ready for work,” I said, climbing to my feet in an attempt to avoid questioning.

“Not so fast,” Angel called out before I could make my escape. “I know something went down last night, Kam. You’re practically glowing, and you look like you’ve had a 24-hour full body massage. And you look less… stick-up-the-ass-ish.”

“Stick-up-the-ass-ish? Seriously? Since when do I look like I have a stick up my ass?” I scowled.

“Whenever you’re not getting a stick up your ass,” she smiled. “Which is, like, never. I think I’ve had more dicks than you, and I’m allergic to them.”

I rolled my eyes at my friend and her colorful language before turning to my closet to retrieve a clean Dive tee and a pair of jeans. Then I spotted my favorite denim skirt hanging up nearby. Oh, what the hell. I slipped it off its hanger and stowed the jeans. Blaine never said it was against the dress code policy. And Mick so rarely poked his head out of the office when he was actually there. Plus, Sundays were slow, relaxed days. A little…distraction…never hurt anyone.

I gathered my outfit and undergarments, bypassing my roommates’ conversation about their weekend trysts. Apparently, they both got lucky last night after AngelDust’s set and were comparing the sordid details. They could keep the countless one-night stands with different women every other night. I didn’t envy their raunchy conquests in the least. I had something much more exciting and fulfilling. I had possibilities. Possibilities with a man that was worth the risk of falling flat on my face.

I strode into Dive an hour later, my head held high and a mischievous grin on my face. For the first time in a long time, I felt good. A little tired from staying up most of the night, but good. Maybe Angel was right. Maybe I did look different now. Maybe Blaine had breathed life into me with a flick of his silver-studded tongue.

Blaine spotted me right away, his brown eyes growing wide with craving. He licked his lips, giving me a peek of that tongue ring and reminding me of what he did to my body in the wee hours of the morning. My knees nearly buckled, as I made my way to the back to clock in.

“Hey, Kami!” Trisha, a part-time day shift bartender waved at me as she grabbed her purse from her locker. We had never worked together, but we saw each other in passing a few times a week. She was a college student/model, and, holy shit, she was gorgeous. Tall, blonde, and tan. I thought for sure that she and Blaine had been more than friendly being that they were both equally beautiful. It only made sense, but apparently things between them were strictly platonic.

“Hey Trish, thanks for covering for me Friday night. I owe you one,” I smiled as I clocked in.

“Oh, please, girl. You were doing me a favor. I’ve been begging Blaine to give me more weekends, so I was thrilled to get the chance. Anytime you’re not feeling well, give me a call. I’m happy to do it.”

Huh.

“Blaine does the scheduling?”

Trisha shrugged. “Well…yeah. I mean, I guess he could delegate the task to Mick, but he said he’d rather do it. He likes knowing who is where. Between you and me, I think he’s a little OCD. Complete control freak. But he’s nice and fair, so I’m not complaining.”

She waved goodbye though I was too engulfed in confusion to return the gesture. Was Blaine the shift supervisor or something? It’d make sense, being that Dive was family-run. Of course he’d have to take on a bit of responsibility. And if he was making the schedule, then was he purposely scheduling all of our shifts together? I hadn’t worked with any of the other two bartenders, and I never worked by myself, which was normal for slower weekdays.

Well, only one way to find out.

“Hey Kam!” CJ called out with a devilish smile before I had a chance to fully step behind the bar.

“What’s up, CJ,” I replied, wrapping my black apron around my waist. Before I could twist the strings together, Blaine was behind me, his agile fingers easing them from my grasp.

“Let me,” he breathed, his lips grazing my earlobe. “I like your skirt.”