evie

“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes narrowed as he peers over the bar at me with a smirk. “You need to stop.”

“I need to stop?” I ask, eyes wide in disbelief. “I’ve been watching you honey and baby and sweetie these whores for the last hour and I’m the one with the problem?”

“Don’t get jealous, baby,” he shakes his head, eyes still dancing slightly in amusement. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, get over yourself,” I roll my eyes. “I’m not jealous, I just think it’s gross to blatantly flirt when you have a girlfriend.”

“They don’t know I have a girlfriend,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, but you do,” I raise my eyebrow.

“You need to chill,” he laughs as he steps away, taking money from another floozy. As she slips him a ten and gives him a giggly wave goodbye, he winks as his lips move into a wide grin. “Thanks, sugar.”

By the time he moves back to the register near my end of the bar, it’s happened twice more and I’m ready to pummel him.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I hiss.

“Baby, I’m working,” he says quietly as he presses a few buttons on the register, more eager to keep our disagreement under wraps than I am at the moment. “And about ninety percent of my income is off of tips. Do you seriously think these women are gonna tip me if I just slide a drink over and tell them to fuck off? No, they won’t. They come in here for the experience and flirting with the bartender is part of that.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Maybe so, but that’s the breaks, babe,” he shrugs. “I’d probably be sleeping on your mom’s couch if I didn’t flirt and act the way I do behind this bar.”

“I don’t believe that at all,” I disagree, mumbling a trail of expletives under my breath as he moves to the other end.

I watch his tattooed biceps bulging beneath his shirt as he leans over to hear the woman staring up at him. He finishes the order, laughing deep as she leans over the bar and whispers something into his ear, brushing her whore fingers over the collar of his shirt. His eyes go wide for a second before he pulls away and palms the generous tip, thanking her as she saunters away. Tramp.

A few minutes later, he returns to find my eyes still narrowed in disgust.

“What did she just say to you?”

“Baby…”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure I’m being annoying, but this is getting ridiculous,” I insist. “You don’t have to flirt and be a pig to make money, Dash.”

“Evie,” he starts, unable to keep the loud laugh from bounding from his chest. “Baby, I swear to God if you quote even one lyric of ‘Roxanne’ by The Police, I’m gonna throw your crazy little ass in a fuckin’ cab.”

“You’re so dumb,” I flip him off, fighting the smirk. “And for the record, I still don’t believe you. You’re obviously just using that as an excuse because you like flirting with other women. I wish you would just admit what a whore you are so I can at least have the pleasure of hearing you say I’m right.”

“I’m not admitting shit to you,” he chuckles. “Especially when you don’t even know what you’re talking about. Have you ever worked behind a bar? Waited tables? Any of that?”

“You know I haven’t,” I start, hating the victorious look in his eyes. “But I’ve been watching Mason do it for years.”

“Well, you ain’t been watching close enough then, sweetheart, because your brother is the biggest tip whore I’ve ever met in my life,” he chuckles. “Seriously, don’t take any of this shit personally, babe. It doesn’t mean shit, okay? I’m just paying my rent.”

I study his features, eyes narrowed for a moment before he walks away and I watch him move back down the bar toward another skank.

When he moves back toward the cooler, he meets my harsh expression and starts to smirk again.

“Evie, that’s enough,” he shakes his head. “Baby, why’d you stay up here if you just wanna be mad at me all night?”

“I don’t want to be mad at you all night, Dash. You just make it so fucking easy,” I blurt, pulling a louder laugh from his chest.

Truth be told, I’d considered staying at my mom’s while he finished his shift tonight, but thought better of it. Mason was still pissed off and refused to speak to Dash and it was awkward as hell being around him right now. I know he’d never tell me I couldn’t go home, but when I weighed my options of arguing with my brother or drinking for free all night, my decision to call a cab here was an easy one.

Apparently to watch my boyfriend behave like a whore.

“You’re insanely cute when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I just think you’re a full of shit liar.”

“Think what you want, babe,” he shrugs. “You deal with drunks in a bar, you aren’t making shit for tips without givin’ some kind of show. Just be glad in my case it’s teeth and biceps. ”

“Whatever,” I shrug childishly, sipping from my drink. “I just wish if you were going to act like a trollop, you wouldn’t lie to me about it.”

He studies me for a minute, his gaze stuck somewhere between amusement and irritation.

“You know something?” he says finally. “Let’s test this little theory of yours.”

“What?”

“You think it’s so easy? Put your money where your mouth is,” he challenges with a smirk. “My server called out, your brother’s still being an asshole and refusing to work with me and thanks to my adorably infuriating jealous girlfriend, I’m getting a little behind. I could use a little help.”

“I don’t know how to waitress, Dash,” I shake my head. “And I’m not jealous.”

“Despite how full of shit you are, you’re a smart girl,” he winks, handing me an apron. “You’ll figure it out.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he beams. “The bar closes in three hours. You think you can make just as much money without flirting? Prove it.”

I study him, his lips still wide as mine move into a subtle smirk and my eyes narrow in suspicion.

“What’s in it for me?”

“The pleasure of knowing you helped me,” he laughs at my expression. “Not to mention bragging rights, which I know you’re a fan of.”

“You do realize that my alternative is sitting here while you make me free drinks all night, right?”

“Fine,” he asks, leaning forward on the bar, close enough I can taste his breath on mine. “What do you want?”

“Anything?”

“Pretty much,” he promises, his voice low and husky as he holds my eyes while I think on my demands. When the first one hits me, I can’t stop the Cheshire grin. “What’s it gonna be, pussycat?”

“Okay,” I smile smugly. “If I win, you never flirt with another woman as long as we’re together.”

“Done,” he nods. “And if I win, you can start by admitting you’re jealous.”

“You’re wasting a demand on forcing me to lie?” I ask, giving him a shrug. “Fine, if that’s really what you want, but there’s an art show in a month that I was going to ask you to go to. If I win, you have to come,” I counter, his eyes already glazing over in boredom. “I was prepared to do some pretty disgusting shit to convince you, but this seems like it could work just as well,” I shrug. “I mean, unless you don’t think you can win.”

“Fine,” he concedes, his features shifting into humor. “But I’m putting my own list of sexual favors on the table and when I tell you they’re disgusting?” he laughs, holding my eyes as his widen suggestively. “I mean… wow. I’ve really outdone myself.”

“I’m sure I can hang,” I blush lightly as I go in for the kill, eyes dancing in evil glee at my final demand. “And last, but certainly not least, if I win you have to tell me what happened at the pool.”

I watch the color drain from his face, taking the smirk with it as this little game of his own twisted creation comes back to bite him in the ass.

Jackpot.

“I uh…” he stammers. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” I grin wider. “I want to know what Mason was talking about at your apartment the other day. I’ve asked you about it three times now and it’s the only thing you’ve ever refused to talk to me about, so that’s what I want,” I drain the last of my drink. “I’ll play your game, Dash, but if I win, you’ll tell me the pool story.”

“Fuck…” he whispers under his breath, shaking his head for a minute before he freezes, raising his eyes to mine. “Done.”

“Seriously?” I ask, surprised.

“Of course,” he shrugs innocently. “If you can beat me, I’ll give you anything you want, princess. Hell, you can even drive Sue.”

Sue…

I’ve been trying to convince him to let me drive his classic Mustang again for months, but he hasn’t budged an inch. Until now.

He sees the temptation taking me and it pulls his full lips into a wide smile.

I can already smell her leather interior, feel her bucket seats cradling my ass as her engine purrs against my skin.

As he winks at me, we both know he’s got me exactly where he wants me.

“Oh, my God, baby,” I gasp, my eyes already heavy with lust for her. “Sue drives me wild.”

“Hmm… I know she does, sugar,” he hums, his eyes darting toward my mouth before he meets my eyes. “So, do we have a deal?”

“Absolutely, we have a deal!” I blurt, his hand in mine before I can process what I’ve done. “Wait! Shit! You never told me your third demand.”

“Too late,” he sings. “You already shook on it.”

“Dash,” I ask, narrowing my eyes as my stomach begins to plummet. “What is it? What are you gonna make me do?”

“Does it even matter?” he teases. “Deal’s a deal.”

“You tell me right now, Dash!” I ground out, smacking the bar and pulling a victorious chuckle from his lips. “What’s it gonna cost me?”

“Don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough,” he shoots me a wink before sliding a beer onto the bar. “Order up.”