"Carly just called in with some stomach bug excuse, so it's just you and me tonight, girly."
Swiping my towel along the inside of one of our beer mugs, I side-glanced over at Patrick. "Aren't you glad I offered to pull a double now?"
Patrick almost smiled. "Just as long as you don't break any more glasses tonight."
"I haven't broken a glass in almost a week!"
"Make that a month and I'll be impressed."
Rolling my eyes, I continued to clean our rack of dirty glasses with faint amusement on my lips. This afternoon's crowd wasn't as big as normal for a Monday, but already, I could tell tonight was going to be busy. It was just shy of 6 o'clock and most of the tables were taken over by groups of men and any available seats at the bar were almost gone. The usual crowd was here tonight which meant lots and lots of big, burly, loud-mouthed men shouting obscenities at each other from across the bar and shooting me looks that made my skin crawl.
It was all part of the job, though.
The men, the looks they gave me, and even the smell that took me two weeks to get used to without wanting to hurl every time I breathed it in. This place smelled like an armpit doused with aftershave.
"Hey, can I get a bourbon on the rocks?"
"Sure. Do you want to start a tab?" I set down the glass I was cleaning, exchanging it for another.
"Sure do."
The man handed me his card, and I set up his tab and got to making his drink. I'd developed a rhythm working behind the bar, and truthfully, it was the only way I was any good at it. I bounced from pouring drinks, to collecting the payment, to checking on who needed a fresh drink next like I would bounce to the beat of a pop song. I spun from the rack of alcohol on the back wall, over to the register, over to the next customer in a seamless spin.
It was right in the middle of that perfectly executed spin, as I handed the man his bourbon drink, that my rhythm was thrown by the two men standing behind my last customer.
Thank God the shock through my body didn't cause me to drop the glass.
Jordan's eyes were waiting for mine to find him, and when I did, I immediately wished I hadn't. That same unfiltered concentration that was in his stare yesterday was there now, and it had the same shameful effect on me as it did then.
I felt weak for him in my knees, my heart, and in my restraint. Those eyes buried me beneath heaps of unending guilt for the way they made butterflies swarm through my stomach with just a glance. He was the reason why I'd picked up this extra shift tonight, because I wasn't ready to face him after dancing with him. I wasn't ready to look him in the eyes after realizing the big, fat, stupid crush that I had on him.
Unable to hold strong under Jordan's gaze, I moved mine to his friend that I met yesterday.
"Hey! I didn't know you guys were coming here tonight."
"Yeah," Peter chuckled. "E
Jordan insisted we come here and keep you company."
Peter let out a sharp gust of air as Jordan jabbed his elbow into his friend's stomach. I laughed at them both, only because they both were laughing, too. Peter turned his attention back to me.
"I don't know if you remember me. We met yesterday. I'm Peter."
"The accountant. I remember," I said with a smile.
Peter seemed almost surprised that I remembered him from yesterday, his eyes widening just a touch and his lips parting just so. Now, taking a beat to really look at Peter, I liked what I saw. There were those kind eyes of his hiding behind glasses, and an adorable smile to match as the color pink tinted both of his cheeks and he looked down to his shoes.
YOU ARE READING
Tempting /A Jordan Knight fanfic ✔️
Fanfiction(Completed) All my life, I had worked tirelessly to achieve perfection. Perfection was in my blood, and so was the art of dance. All that hard work had earned me my dream job as a professional dancer at the ripe age of twenty-four, the perfect boyf...
