Page 5 of Tell Me No
I smirk down at him, buttoning my top back together and walking to the stairs to get back behind the bar. I’m glad he’s rattled. I hope he feels even one tenth of the insanity I feel around him. The strapless bra I wear beneath my uniform gives me more coverage than a lot of swimwear, so I'm sure that I'm never showing more than I'm comfortable with. But he doesn’t know that. He follows me, meeting me at the bottom of the stairs without breaking eye contact for even a moment.
“I hope you enjoyed the show.” I taunt him, loving the inferno I see behind his eyes. Playing this game is a risk, but I’ve got nothing to lose.
“What the fuck are you doing, Aurora?” He sneers, his disapproval evident.
“What ever the fuck I want,Breaker,” I saw, trailing my fingers across his biceps as I squeeze past him.
“You’re better than this. Does your brother even know you’re here?” He asks, knowing Elijah is my Achilles’ heel. For a moment, I feel a twinge of guilt creeping in. I know I should tell Eli, but I also know he’d lose his mind. Besides, I’m a grown ass woman. I don’t need permission from my brother or anyone else to work wherever I please.
Straightening my spine, I level him with the coldest stare I can possibly conjure, “I answer to no man. Especially not you, Jason.” I snap back at him, turning my back and walking towards the bar.
“Happy birthday, princess,” he says, barely loud enough for me to hear. But I do hear him.
My steps falter, tears immediately stinging my eyes. But I don’t turn back. I won’t give him the satisfaction. He doesn’t know how much I hate this day more than any other every year. No one does. Instead, I give my hips a little more attitude and sway than they really need and get back to work.
four
It’s beentwo weeks since my run in with Jason at bombshells. In the handful of times we’ve had ‘family dinners’, he hasn’t brought up anything about me working there. I’m surprised he didn’t out me as soon as he possibly could.
That’s not to say his presence has been absent. Every single night when I walk to my car at 3am, I see a familiar shadow straddling a bike at the edge of the parking lot. He follows me until I pull my Bronco into the driveway at the townhouse, continuing on past and into the night.
For a man who says he can’t stand my existence, he sure is concerned about my safety. I’ll admit, he’s never come out and actually said he disliked me. In fact, the tenderness he showed me when I was attacked in his home revealed the opposite. He comforted me, letting me cry without hesitation or questions. I know he wanted to ask me what was going through my mind, but he never did. Never pushed me for anything more than I was willing to give. It only made me hate him even more. I hate how much I feel like I need him.
Do I want Jason Negan? Abso-fucking-lutely, I do. Does he want me? Sometimes, maybe. But I know he’s hung up on the age difference between us. In his defense, he was learning to drive when I was busy being born. But I don’t give a fuck, and he shouldn’t either. Yet, I constantly feel like I’m waiting for something that is never going to happen.
Tonight, I have a rare Saturday night off and I’m happy to spend it at Pop’s with my friends. Everett and Kelsea are already three songs in to dry humping each other on the dance floor. Good for them. Ember is flaming red as my brother stands behind her, whispering something I’m sure is salacious in her ear. Everyone around me looks blissfully happy. And here I am, alone.
“Where is Breaker tonight?” I ask Elijah, taking a heavy sip of my whiskey and licking a little sugar from the rim. Sugar rimmed whiskey neat has been my go to drink since I was sixteen. I don’t know how I conjured up the combination in my mind, but it’s a creature comfort now. The sprinkle of sweetness soothes the burn of quality whiskey every time. Finally pulling himself from the lust bubble surrounding the two of them, he quirks an eyebrow at me. It’s no big secret that I’m interested in Breaker. I don’t know what Eli really thinks about it. I’ve never asked.
“Not sure. Ev called, but he didn’t answer,” he says, the question in his eyes burning a hole through me.
“Probably found somebody else to stalk,” I mumble into my glass.
“We’re gonna have a… not-birthday-party dinner at our house tomorrow. I’ll pick you up around 2?” Ember says, and I know it isn’t really a request.
“You know how I feel about my birthday,” I tell her, swallowing down the rest of my drink.
“Thats why it’s a not birthday party!” She says, her voice cheerful and expectant. I know I can’t disappoint her, no matter how badly I wish I could ignore the milestone.
“Fine,” I nod, standing and making my way to the bar for another drink. It typically takes more than a few glasses to make my head swim, but I’m probably halfway there now.
Sliding up to the bar, I see a familiar face behind the counter pouring drinks. I get his attention, flagging him down with a smile. “Iris? What the hell are you doing here? You work here now?”
“Hey, Rory! I saw you guys come in earlier. I was gonna come over once it died down a little, but this place is wild tonight,” he shouts, even though we’re standing face to face.
“I didn’t know you were working here. I thought you lived in Charleston,” I ask, quirking an eyebrow and I watch him pour my drink a little heavier than the standard.
“Well, I heard Pop was putting the place up for sale. I’ve always wanted to run a place like this, so I figured I should probably get an idea of the kind of business coming through the doors,” he says, leaning back against the railing behind the bar.
Iris, whose real name I don’t actually know, is an incredibly attractive man. He’s tall, over six feet easily, with dirty blonde hair and thick corded muscles running across his shoulders and down his ink covered forearms. A real life Charlie Hunnam right in front of me. His mischievous crystal blue eyes scan over me as he gives me a panty melting smile that a lesser woman would definitely fall victim to. But I prefer my men darker, rougher around the edges.
“You’re gonna buy this place? Thats awesome! I’m excited for you,” I tell him with a genuine smile.
“Yeah, maybe then I can steal you away from Bombshells,” he jokes and we both laugh. He’s easy to talk to, always laid back. I like that about him.
“Thanks for ratting me out, by the way.” I shoot him a pointed look, and he at least has the decency to look apologetic.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t think he would actually show up there,” he says, brushing his hair out of his face.
