At the very least, he was picturing me drinking and partying.
But a twisted sliver of me hoped his imagination was running wilder than that—picturing me grinding at clubs with strangers, writhing against a wall in the bathroom with some guy’s mouth on my neck and his big hands squeezing all over my body. Wishful thinking, but I told myself it was possible.
Especially when I heard the seriously panty-soaking gravel in Iain’s voice as he said, “Is that right?”
God.
He wasn’t giving me much in terms of conversation, but what little he said still managed to go straight between my thighs and render me speechless for a second.
“Mm-hm.” I nodded, waiting out the burst of tingles that were coursing through my body before I opened my mouth to speak again. “I have fun working here,” I said daintily once I’d gathered all my thoughts again. “And even if I didn’t, I still need the money, so I’m definitely not going to quit just because you feel the weird need to babysit me anytime you come around. I knew what kind of job this was when I applied for it, I can handle creepy guests on my own and if there’s anything I don’t need anymore, it’s people making decisions for me. I am not a little girl anymore.”
The last few words came out with bite and such defiance that I could feel them still hanging in the air, dangling in the silence that stretched so long and thick between us that I swore it was pulsing as Iain’s stare hardened on me.
“Trust me, I can see that,” he said.
And suddenly, my pussy clenched tight.
Because aside from the fact that Iain had flicked his gaze to my mouth for half a scorching hot second, his voice had dropped to something so low, so husky I could practically feel his words dragging rough over my skin, prickling all over my body and flooding me with heat that made me want to just tear off all my clothes.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
I tried pumping the brakes on my suddenly dirty train of thought, but it was too late, because while I wasn’t sure what had happened just now, I already knew I wanted more.
I wanted Iain’s eyes back on my lips and then I wanted his gaze to drop further down on my body. I wanted him to lose the big brother act for two frickin’ seconds and just let himself look, because he’d said it himself.
I wasn’t a little girl anymore. And he could see that.
So look at me, I willed him. But he didn’t.
So I challenged him.
“Can you?” I asked innocently, tilting my chin down and pushing my shoulders back as I stood up nice and tall for Iain. I told myself I was doing it for good posture, to better present myself as a poised, mature adult.
But really, I knew I was just pushing my boobs out as much as I could.
Which, ironically, was childish. And petulant. But in my mind, Iain deserved the little show because in a matter of ten minutes tonight, he had ignored me, insulted me and spoken to me like I was five. He had butted his head into my business and acted like I was some small, incapable child, so as far as I was concerned, I had the right to show him I wasn’t. As far as I was concerned, I deserved the satisfaction of watching that dark look cast over his eyes now as he glared back at me.
Well aware of what I was doing.
As a matter of fact, I doubted any one look could say I know what you’re doing more than the look Iain was giving me me right now, all stern and unamused. Like I was on his very last nerve.
It should’ve intimidated me, or made me feel self-conscious like it had when I was younger, the one time he was ever this serious with me.
It was after an Empires game. I’d lost him and Adam in a big, drunken crowd and when Iain found me twenty minutes later, his eyes were on fire. He looked just as stern and angry as he did right now, and though he’d been worried, not mad, I’d felt sorry and self-conscious for the rest of the day—the rest of the week, really—because I hated the fact that I’d upset him.
So you’d think I’d feel even a little bit bad right now.
But I didn’t.
In fact, I was thoroughly enjoying how pissed off Iain was right now with his broad shoulders rigid, and his jaw clenched tight. It was more emotion than I’d seen from him all night, and I liked to believe it was because he wanted to cave.
To look at his best friend’s little sister, and feast his eyes on her very grown-up body.
The thought alone gave me a rush, even as he finally said, “Yeah, Holland. I can.”
His tone was deliberately flat, detached in a way that was meant to shut down whatever inappropriate fun I was having with him just now, but it was too late. I’d already gotten my satisfaction, and I knew it showed on my face as I propped my tray back up high and put my hand on my hip.
“Great,” I said brightly, batting my lashes. “Then you know I’m free to live my life however I want, which includes working wherever I want for as long as I want, and if that bothers you then I guess you’ll just have to get over it or stop coming here. Right?”
I tilted my head just so, enjoying exactly two seconds of Iain’s thinly-veiled irritation before Jasmine the hostess approached the table, with a little wave at him and a sheepish smile for me.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt, Mr. Thorn. Um, Holland? Your tables are asking for you?”
I nodded politely and said thank you, knowing well that I’d been in Lana’s section for way too long now. But before I went off with Jasmine, I made sure to face Iain one more time with a big, professional smile.
“Well, it looks like I have to go, but have a good night, Mr. Thorn. And if you ever decide to come back, I’ll be sure to see you next time,” I said in my peppy, overly pleasant waitress voice that made Iain actually smirk, and give a short but sexy-as-hell chuckle that would’ve brought me to my knees if it weren’t for what followed.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” he said.
And with those spectacularly prickish words ringing in my head, I walked away.
4
HOLLAND
I left for work an hour early the next afternoon, for multiple reasons starting with the fact that I wanted—no, needed—to escape Mia’s ruthless interrogation.
It started last night as soon as I got back to service bar, and it continued through cash out, the ride home, and even into this morning when I woke up. Pretty much the second I opened my door, Mia was there, presenting me with a fresh cup of coffee, a croissant from my favorite bakery around the corner, and her narrowed eyes as she said, “Good morning, I’m bribing you for details.”
Which was aggressive.
But fair considering last night was crazy.
Madness, really. The kind of mind-blowing, head-boggling, did-that-really-just-happen type of madness that stayed stuck in my head for the rest of my shift, and robbed me of my sleep by forcing me to spend the night tossing and turning, getting lost in about a million memories of being a teenager who was awkward, lonely and head over heels in love with her brother’s very off-limits, very unattainable best friend.
Which was reason number two for why I had to just get to work already.
The sooner I could get there and get through a shift, the sooner I could get my life back to normal and erase what happened last night, because for the love of God, I was not doing this again.