How We Deal With Gravity(4)
“Ugh, *!” she pushes me to the side as she flies by and whips through the swinging door into the back. All I see is her long, straight, strawberry-blond hair as she disappears. I’m probably going to see this girl for the next few weeks, so I follow her back past Sal and Manny into the small locker room, chuckling a little and looking at my left hand with fondness.
“Hey, wait…hey, I’m totally sorry. I really didn’t mean to grab…shit; I mean…I didn’t mean to do that. Damn, I’m sorry,” I say, lightly laughing and waiting for the girl to turn around.
“Whatever,” she says, clearly unimpressed with me. She pulls one leg up to tie her shoe on the bench, and then tucks her hair behind her ear. I’m about to give up and go when I realize just how bad this is.
“Birdie?” I say, my mouth moving toward a big grin. She tosses her head up when I say her name, and the fire in her green eyes pretty much knocks me on my f*cking ass! This is not the Avery Abbot I knew in high school. I know I’m walking on thin ice, but I can’t help but let my eyes wander down from her soft face and pink lips to what might just be the tightest goddamned body I’ve ever seen. I can see every inch outlining her bra under the thin, white Dusty’s T-shirt; the black shorts hug her hips so well, I’m wishing like hell she’d turn around and drop something just so I could watch her pick it up.
“Mason,” she says, forcing my gaze back up to her eyes. She isn’t smiling when she looks at me. Shit, I need to fix this. I can’t have Ray’s daughter this pissed at me.
“I’m so sorry, Birdie. I wasn’t looking, and I totally didn’t know that was you,” I say, trying to make my tongue work in my mouth, while I search for something else to add, something smart. I’ve got nothing, so instead I just lean to the side and watch her push past me again. I breathe deeply when she walks by, and the girl actually smells like vanilla—like a f*cking dessert!
I stumble back out to the bar and look at the keys in my hand, then back up to Avery as she ties the green apron around her tiny waist and pulls her hair back into a ponytail. She always wore her hair like that, but I don’t know—it’s somehow very different now. The tiny freckles on her neck have me in a bit of a trance when Ray bumps into me.
“You headin’ out?” he asks. I feel the teeth of the keys against my fingers. There’s no way I’m leaving, no matter how bad of an idea it is to flirt with Ray’s daughter. I know the line, but I won’t be able to get my mind straight if I don’t just straddle it a little tonight—get inside her head.
“In a bit. Let me just help out for a while, so I know you’ve got this handled. It’d make me feel better since you’re putting me up and all,” I smile at him, and hand him back his keys.
“Alright then, you can start mixing,” he says, pushing the keys in his pocket and going back to work. I pull a ticket and start mixing on the other end of the bar, but I keep my attention divided on Avery the entire time, just waiting for her to come over. She keeps heading to the corner of the restaurant area—probably to avoid me.
She’s almost in front of me when she locks onto my gaze, and spins around on her heels toward her dad. I’m not gonna lie, I take a good look when she leans over the bar to talk to Ray, and I’m half-tempted to race around to the other side of the bar to check out the view from behind. But something she says catches me off guard.
“Dad, you know he can’t stay with us! Max isn’t going to like it,” she protests, crossing her arms. Her dad waves his hand telling her to calm down, and she spins around and walks back to the corner. Who the hell is in that corner? And who’s Max? Shit, is she married?
Avery doesn’t return to this side of the bar for the next 20 minutes. I saw her hand her orders to another waitress to bring them over a few times, and she actually had her dad bring out some of the plates, just to avoid passing by me on her way to the kitchen. What the hell? It was just a boob grab, and it was a damned accident. If this girl was going to get that bent out of shape, then I don’t need to waste my time with fantasies.
“Pain in the ass,” I mumble under my breath, focusing once again on the drink orders.
“Hey, Cole. That’s Mason, go on in and relieve him,” Ray hollers, nodding in my direction. A big burly dude heads my way, pushing the sleeves up on his one-size-too-small black shirt. He must be the new bouncer. Hell, he’s big—with my luck, he’s Avery’s husband, or boyfriend or…whatever.
“Hey, man. Mason, nice to meet you,” I reach over to shake his hand, hoping like hell he doesn’t crush my fingers.
“Oh yeah, you, too. It’s funny, I feel kinda like I know you, the way Ray talks about you around here,” he smiles, shaking my hand and holding back—thank God!—then taking over on the next drink order. I’m a little surprised by his words, though I don’t know why. I know how Ray feels about me—like I’m his own son. There’s just something about hearing someone else say it.
The crowds are getting thick now, getting ready for the headliner. Back when I was in high school, Ray started pushing Thursday nights, and when I turned eighteen, I was one of his first performers. He fought like hell with the town council over his liquor license requirements when he put me on stage. But Ray’s got a lot of friends in high places in Cave Creek.