"Just saying, it would get you out of here quicker."
I want to be annoyed at him, but I can't. He's one of the only people who really seems to understand my need to be here despite the fact we've never shared our stories, there's just something about him that makes me think he gets it.
Helena, one of the other waitresses, approaches us. Her filled lips are painted bright red and her fake tits damn near pushed up around her neck. Resting her elbows on the bar she flashes her cleavage at Bry who pays her very little attention.
"Order's up, sweetie," she purrs, sliding her order over to him. "What's up, girl?" she asks, blatantly running her eyes over me disapprovingly.
I know I don't look like most of the other girls here. I don't have a fake thing on my body. Okay, aside from my eyelashes. I roll my eyes at myself. And while I might try my best to flirt with the customers, it's glaringly obvious that I have no idea what I'm doing and that I'm totally uncomfortable doing it. Bry tells me that that's my whole appeal, that I've got the innocent virgin vibe going on. And while I hate the thought of the men who leer at me thinking about ruining my innocence, I know it's what gets the tips and ultimately what landed me the job here in the first place.
I wish I could have just got a job at a coffee shop like Letty and serve normal people their caffeine and sugar fixes daily.
"Going for the big tips tonight, love?" Helena asks, her eyes zeroing in on my breasts, much like the men.
"Well, I might not have as much as you, but I figure I should work with what I've got."
Bry snorts a laugh, quickly covering it up with a cough, but it's too late, Helena heard it loud and clear.
"Well, enjoy the tips you can get. When you're ready to play with the women, you just let me know."
She spins around with her notebook poised, ready to take more orders from her adoring customers when Bry calls her back.
"Helena."
"Yes," she hisses, clearly done with both of us.
"You've got a littleā¦" He taps the corner of his mouth. "Cum, maybe."
"Oh my God," I cry as her face twists in frustration. She storms off to the sound of our laughter.
"She's going to kill you with the heel of her stiletto," I tell him once she's out of earshot.
"Meh, it would be worth it. She's a bitch. I'd have you over her any day of the week."
"Bry, you're gay."
"Yeah, I'm not fucking blind though." He drops his eyes down my mostly exposed body and I can't help it heating up with his attention.
"Stop it," I snap.
"I fucking knew it. You want a bit of this, don't you?" he says, lifting his shirt to show off his abs.
"Ew, as if. I have no idea where you've been."
"In some really, really fucked up guys," he deadpans.
"Ah, got a thing for the bad boys, do you?" I ask as he continues to put me off, grabbing the glasses I need for my table of assholes.
"Who doesn't?"
My lips part to argue but the words die on my tongue.
Luca was vicious that first night, but fuck if he didn't call to me even more so than he did back in the day. The wicked glint in his eyes, the snarl on his lips. Hell, if I'd have turned him down.
"Yeah, alright. You gonna finish this for me before they expect extras for me being late."
"Yes." He turns his back on me and grabs the glasses before sliding the tray over. "Pey," he says when I take off, holding the tray with one hand over my shoulder.
"Yeah."