Page 16 of Denim & Diamonds

“Unreal. Un-freaking-real.” I whipped the covers off and got out of bed. Not only did I not want to see anything else in this phone, I wanted the thing out of my possession immediately. So I dressed as fast as I could, tucked the phone into my back pocket, and locked the door to my room. I was just about to climb out the window—without even knowing if the damn ladder was outside—when something dawned on me.

A man who has virtual sex with one woman while another is lying in his bed doesn’t have respect for anyone. So why was I being so respectful and not looking through the rest of his phone? The answer: I wasn’t anymore.

Without further debate, I went right to his photos. The first picture I called up was of a weird tattoo—I wasn’t certain, but I thought it might be a squirrel running down a thigh. Avery thick thigh… Was that Brock? I swiped again. And the next photo made my jaw drop…

***

“Hi. Is Brock working tonight?”

The bartender shook his head. “Sorry, it’s his night off.”

“Oh.”

“Can I get you something to drink anyway?”

If I wasn’t going to be able to give Brock a piece of my mind, I definitely could use a drink. “I’ll have a dry martini, shaken not—” Remembering what Brock had said about myprissydrink, I stopped and shook my head. “You know what? I’ll just have a vodka and cranberry, please.”

He knocked on the bar twice. “Coming right up.”

A young man slid onto the stool next to me. He flashed a dimpled, crooked smile.

“Hey there. I think you owe me a drink?”

I smiled, even through my anger. “And why would I owe you a drink?”

His smile widened. “Because I dropped mine when you walked in. You’re so damn beautiful.”

I chuckled. “Cheesy. But cute. Though I think I’d need to see some ID to buy you any alcohol. Are you even old enough to be in here?”

The kid shrugged. “Nah. But the owner doesn’t care.” He extended a hand. “I’m Axe.”

“Is that your real name?”

His lip quirked. “No, but it’ll sound a heck of a lot better thanArthurwhen you’re moaning it.”

This kid was really adorable. Ridiculously over the top, yet somehow it worked for him. Charisma, shaggy hair, and a dimpled smile were a dangerous combination. I bet he was popular with girls his ownage. There was also something familiar about him. “How old are you,Axe?”

“Eighteen. Well, close enough. I’ll be eighteen next year.”

The bartender returned with my drink. He wagged his finger at the kid next to me. “Leave the ladies alone, Arthur.”

He pointed. “Shehit onme.”

“Yeah, right.” The bartender moved two fingers back and forth, simulating walking. “Go back to the booth and finish your homework, or I’m kicking your ass out.”

Axe, orArthur, groaned. “You suck.” But he also slinked off to a booth.

I drank my drink quietly after that, debating whether I should leave Brock’s phone with the bartender or come back another night so I could give it to him myself, along with some choice words. As I finished off the last of my cocktail, Axe returned. He’d just started to say something when a booming voice interrupted.

“What did I tell you about sitting at the bar?” Brock’s face was stern.

“I was just getting the nice lady’s phone number,” Axe said.

Brock looked to me. “You giving this kid your number?”

His tone pissed me off.Hepissed me off. So I folded my arms across my chest. “What business is it of yours if I am?”

Brock scowled and pointed at the kid next to me. “I’ve told you ten times, you don’t sit at this bar for four more years. Now you’ve lost the right to even come in here. From now on, you go somewhere else to do your homework.”

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