Page 46 of Beautiful Scars

The last guy, sprawled on a leather chair, tears his eyes away from the dancers long enough to flash me a grin. "They call me Wolf," he says with an exaggerated wink, before being drawn back to the entertainment.

“Well, let me say I'm looking forward to serving you tonight." I turn and head towards the bar.

"Indeed."

I barely catch the word, but it makes me smile.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sunny

Thebass-heavythrumofmusic fills the lounge. I lean against the back counter of the bar, looking across the room and take a moment to let myself breathe. It's been hours and these guys don't show any signs of slowing down. It's going well. The girls are working their magic, the guys are having a great time and spending like crazy, and Jade couldn't be happier.

She’s perched on the arm of Colt’s chair, her fingers threading lazily through his hair as they talk. He's staring up at her like he’s a starving man and she’s his last meal.

A laugh slips out before I can stop it. Poor guy doesn’t stand a chance. He has no idea what he's in for with her.

I wish all nights in the VIP were this easy.

I'll admit, when I first walked in and saw the perfect, tailored fit of these men's suits and the shine of their shoes, I expected arrogance. The usual rich-guy bullshit—ego trips and out of pocket demands. Instead, they're actually… fun. Friendly. But there's something else there too. Something right under the easy smiles and casual laughs. Something I recognized immediately. It's the potential for danger, for violence. It's restrained and held tightly in check, but it's there. Sharp teeth and razor claws hidden just under the surface.

Itshouldscare me. My instincts were honed by years of dealing with men who caused pain for no other reason than they could. But, these guys? They aren't tripping any of those wires for me.

The only exception is Zane.

He followed me from his spot on the couch when I went behind the bar and hasn’t moved since. While the others are caught up in the action around them, Zane’s been quiet, observant, keeping himself separate from it all. I don't think he's missed anything anyone's done or said all night. I know that's true for me. His attention to me has been deliberate, and focused. It's not creepy or leering or dangerous exactly—it's more thoughtful than anything—but, it's unnerving. And intense. And I don’t think it's going to change anytime soon.

I grab a clean tray from under the bar and set it on the bar. I'm not here to analyze the customers.My job is to keep the drinks flowing and the room running smoothly and nothing more. And so far, I think I'm nailing it.

Even the times when I’ve made my way through the room, dropping off drinks and picking up glasses, I can feel Zane's eyes on me. It’s like a cord tying us together, pulling tighter and tighter the more I try to ignore it.

"You do know there’s a whole room full of sexy, topless women right behind you. You’re missing out.” I tease, my voice lilting as I glance at Zane and slide back behind the bar.

“I never miss anything,” he replies, his tone low and even.

I chuckle, grabbing the bottle of tequila off the premium shelf and lining up glasses on the tray. “Hate to break it to you, but this is as exciting as it gets on my side of the room. I'm pretty sure you’d have more fun if you turned around.”

“I don't think I would,” he says, his ice blue eyes steady on mine.

The moment stretches out between us. He's definitely got my curiosity piqued. “So, tell me—what kind of guy spends the night in a private lounge full of beautiful women and decides to hang out with the bartender?”

“The kind of guy who can see that the bartender is easily the most incredible and beautiful woman in the room.”

"Oooo. Love the confidence. A little on the cliché side though. I’ll give it a solid C." I take one of the glasses off the tray and slide it across the bar to him with a chuckle.

"I’d bet though," I say as I lean in over the bar, "with those eyes and that smile, a line like that probably earns you an awful lot of A's."

"You wound me." He laughs as his hand flies to his chest, and lands over his heart. His fingers splay out, and there's a playful glint in his eyes. "It wasn't a line, only the truth. It did it's job though. I got you to smile, didn't I?"

"One," I say as I toss my hair and lift the tray of drinks. It settles on my arm and I let it balance before stepping out from behind the bar. "You got one."

As I move through the lounge, the tray balanced carefully, the room buzzes with life. Laughter rolls beneath the bassline, and the guys toast the dancers and each other with rowdy cheers.

I approach one of the tables, setting the tray down with a flourish.

“Alright, gentlemen. Who’s ready for another round?”

The response is an instant mix of grins and laughter as they reach for the shots.

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