And I hate it.
“So, you gonna deliver this or…?” Gibbs asks.
“Yup. I got it,” I answer him. “Quick question, though.”
“Yeah?”
“Why have you been such a jerk to Dove?”
“I haven’t been a jerk.”
“Seriously? You’ve been super cold with her since her first day. It’s to the point where she only deals with Sammie for drinks and makes me come to your surly ass every night. I wanna know why.”
He squeezes the back of his neck as his attention shoots to where Dove is taking a group of frat boys’ orders.
“Tell me,” I push.
“There’s nothing to tell. I’m this way with most of the girls who work here.”
“It’s true,” Sammie, the other bartender, interrupts. “He was an ass to me for six months until he found out I wasn’t attracted to asshole.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“It means that being an ass is how he keeps employee fraternization down. Am I right, Gibbsy?” she teases, turning to him.
“Get back to work, Sam,” he grunts.
“Wait,” I interrupt. “So, because she’s an attractive coworker who, under normal circumstances, you’d want to have sex with, you’ve decided it’s okay to be a jerk to her?”
His expression sours. “I don’t shit where I eat.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means that even though he’d like to get in Dove’s pants, he makes sure to keep his charisma turned down extra low so that she doesn’t get the wrong idea and try to jump his bones,” Sammie interjects.
“You’re insane,” I point out to Gibson.
“And you’re supposed to be working,” he returns, dipping his chin to the brimming pitcher and glasses on the tray in front of me.
I glare back at him, then pick it up. My balance isn’t anything to write home about, so I grab the tray with both hands and rest it against my hip as I bob and weave between patrons and tables.
“Hey, guys. Fancy seeing you here,” I greet them, avoiding Jake’s gaze. After River’s little declaration the day before, no matter how inaccurate it is, I feel uncomfortable. Which is ridiculous. It’s Jake. My Jake.
Get a grip, Reese.
Shaking it off, I hand each of them a glass, then set the giant pitcher in the center of the table.
“Fancy seeing you at all,” Milo counters as he slips out of the booth and pulls me into a bear hug.
“So, how’s work been going?” I ask. “I feel like I haven’t had a chance to catch up with you lately.”
“Fine,” he grumbles before surprising me when he adds, “I’m beat.”
Leaning into him, I give him another quick squeeze. “With good reason. They’ve been working you to death.”
“Nah, it’s just that time of year.”
“Are you at least making some good money?” I ask as he slides back into the booth. “Enough to cover the cost of the shop when the owner decides to finally sell it?”
“Yeah. It’ll be fine.”
“Good. I’m glad. And if you need anything, you know you can rely on me, right?”
He smirks. “I know, sis. I got this, though. Stop worrying.”
“I can’t help it. You’re my big brother.”
“Which means I’ve got it taken care of,” he reminds me. “When’s your next break?”
“Not for a while. Are you guys going to be here long?”
“For a little while. River’s supposed to be joining us.”
“Oh.” I hesitate, praying he doesn’t hear the way my breath hitches at the sound of his friend’s name. “Okay.”
“Everything all right?” Milo demands with a narrowed gaze. The guy should be a detective.
“Yup.”
“You sure about that?”
“Stop interrogating her,” Jake reprimands. “Give her a break. She’s probably just sick of the guy since they spent all day together with the photoshoot and everything.”
“Photoshoot?” Milo repeats. “What photoshoot?”
“Uh…” My eyes bounce between both of them in hopes of Jake stepping in, but he finishes pouring beer into their glasses, leans back in the booth, and smirks at me.
Bastard.
“What photoshoot?” Milo demands, his tone brooking no argument.
“Riv didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Um. There was a cancellation? River asked if I would help him out.”
“What kind of photoshoot, Reese?”
“Clothing?” I answer, though it comes out as more of a question than anything else.
Why the hell do I feel guilty right now?
It was a photoshoot. A completely respectable, non-porno photoshoot. Besides, Milo is the one who encouraged me to find something I love to do. And it turns out that I kind of loved modeling yesterday. So, sue me.
Milo doesn’t look any more convinced at the validity of the shoot than he did before he knew what kind of session it was, but he stays quiet, studying me carefully. As long as he never sees the pictures or how the clothing was more like lingerie than a hoodie and jeans, I think I’ll be safe.
And so will River.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands.
Helpless, I mutter, “I kinda thought you knew.”
“River said the photoshoot was scheduled with some other model,” Jake interjects, throwing me a bone. “But she had to cancel, so he asked Reese to tag along and help him impress some big-time photographer or something. He said she did good.”
Almost instantly, Milo relaxes and asks me, “Did you get paid for helping him out?”
“Yup.”
In cash. And orgasms.
So, ya know, win-win, right?
Satisfied, Milo nods. “Good. Did you have fun?”
“Actually, yeah,” I admit. “The photoshoot was a lot of fun.”
“And Riv?”
Shrugging one shoulder, I rock back on my heels and hug the empty tray to my chest. “Was his usual…self.”
“Hmm,” he hums, but he doesn’t press the topic as he picks up his drink and brings it to his lips. After a quick gulp of beer, he sets it back down and tells me, “When you get a break, you should come hang out with us.”
“Sure thing. For now, is there anything else I can get you guys?”
“We’re good. Thanks, sis.”
“You’re welcome.”
I turn to Jake, shoving aside the last of my reservations after everything River told me about his potential…feelings. That same familiar warmth shines in his eyes as he holds my gaze. But there isn’t any heat or longing. Just kindness. Patience. And a sense of camaraderie after everything we’ve been through together.
Just like always.
River’s wrong.
Jake doesn’t love me. Not like that, at least. We’re friends, and I wouldn’t jeopardize it for the world.
“How ‘bout you, Jakey Boy?” I ask. “Can I get you anything?”
“I think we’re good. Thanks, though, Reese.”