Page 47 of Beautiful Scars

“Angel,” one of the guys says, raising his glass to me. "You're the best baby."

I wink at him, flashing a playful grin. “You have no idea.”

That earns me a solid round of catcalls.

“Alright, no excuses,” I say. “Everyone drinks.”

They all raise their glasses, toasting the dancers who reply with smirks and giggles, as they do a collective cheers and down the drinks. I drag out the moment, letting myself enjoy it. Usually, my anxiety is through the roof when I have to work in here, and I end up staring at the clock waiting for my shift to be over. This is a nice change.

Once the tray is full again with all of the empties, I saunter back to the bar, my hips swaying in time to the music. When I set the tray down, Zane is waiting.

"You missed the cheers." I say as I set the tray down behind the bar and start cleaning up.

"I didn't miss it. I was waiting for you to join me."

His tone is confident and doesn't leave much room for me to refuse. It's not pushy, or demanding… just definite.

I laugh. “Thank you. I appreciate it. But, I’m on the clock. I've got a rule about drinking at work.”

He arches his eyebrow and chuckles. “C'mon. It'll be our little secret. No one will ever know that Angel is really a rebel at heart. And you are. Deep down. I can see it.”

It's irritating how charming he is. And that stupid, lopsided grin…

While it's not against the house rules, it's againstmyrules.

Without really understanding why, or letting myself give it too much thought, I grab a clean glass and pour. “Fine. I'll take one shot if you promise not to ask again or get any ideas. That's all you get. There are some rules Ineverbreak.”

“Interesting." His smile is slow and smug. "I think that's a list I'd love to get a look at sometime though. Deal.”

We lift the glasses, clink them together and swallow. The tequila burns its way down my throat and settles into my stomach. I slam the glass back down on the bar as the warmth of it starts spreading. I meet Zane's gaze head-on.

“You’re good at this Angel,” he says finally, his voice low and easy as he relaxed back. “Everyone's seems to be having the time of their lives.”

I glance at him, my lips quirking. “That's the goal.”

“So, tell me about the tattoo. It's beautiful.”

The question catches me off guard. "It... I, uh."

I falter for half a second, barely a blink, but he catches it. It's not like no one ever asks. Usually I have an answer ready. This time it escapes me. My hand moves to rub gently at the place the ink starts, right above my collarbone.

“Must be one hell of a story,” he says, leaning forward, resting his forearms on the bar.

"No, not really.” I say, straightening and meeting his gaze with a tilt of my head. I can tell he's not going to leave it alone.

“It's pretty boring actually," I lie, before beginning the well-rehearsed story I've constructed out of half-truths. "There was this lake back where I grew up. It was the prettiest place you could imagine. There were always the most amazing wildflowers that bloomed in the fall…" My words drift off and I start to become lost in the memory.

"It's where I got my first real kiss." Nowthatwasn't a part of the story. Definitely not something I’d ever tell a complete stranger.What the hell, Sunny?

I suck in a deep breath and shake my head, chasing away the ghosts I woke up. "So, that's it. No real story. Boring actually."

Zane doesn’t respond right away. He watches me like he’s piecing something together, getting a peek under the surface, and for a moment, it leaves me feeling naked. It's uncomfortable and I don't like it.

“Itisa good story,” he says. "Not boring at all. I'm sorry it makes you sad. I shouldn't have asked.”

I shift my weight, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "It doesn't—" I stop, reluctant to put another lie between us.

He adjusts in his seat and hands me his glass without a word, letting me off the hook.

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