Page 13 of Three Minutes
I give a slight shrug in response to her remark. “I’m just trying to connect with a customer; it’s part of my job,” I explain.
She leans in closer, nodding thoughtfully. “Fair enough…since we’re connecting and all, I work as a vet tech at the local animal clinic. Scottie brought his cat in for a wellness checkup, and after about five minutes of checking Fluffy’s vitals, he handed me atorn piece of paper with his number on it.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. Of course, he’s a cat owner. And really, what grown ass man names his fucking felineFluffy? Shaking my head, I redirect my attention back to her. “Why doesn’t your ID show the address of your apartment complex?”
She tilts her head slightly. “You’re giving off some stalker vibes there,” she replies.
I run my fingers through my hair, trying to keep my cool. “No, I’m just observant,” I counter, hoping she’ll elaborate.
“I just moved here about five months ago after finishing college,” she explains, “and I might have procrastinated on updating my address. I’m still waiting for the new one to come in the mail.”
I nod in understanding. “What made you choose Mavesdale of all places?”
She turns as she glances around for a moment. “I spent quite some time looking for the right place, then the job just sort of…fell in my lap. They were short-staffed, and honestly, who wouldn’t want to live just minutes from the mountains? It felt like a win-win for my personal life and career.” That makes sense. A playful smile tugs at her lips. “If I had known there was a grumpy bar owner around, I might have thought twice.” I tilt my head in mock offense as she turns back toward me, glancing over her shoulder. “I’ll have one more of those, please,” she calls out, then grabs her purse and heads over to the jukebox.
I watch for a second longer, noticing her sift through the song choices. I observe her from behind. Her outfit is simple, but it suits her. She wears a fitted burgundy leather jacket and jeans that fit perfectly around her plump a—
“Did I give you enough time to win her over?” My thoughts are cut short.
“Stop fucking doing that,” I snap at Blake, who snuck up behind meyet again.
“Whoa, buddy, my bad.” He throws his hands up. “I was just playing my part as your wingman. I could at least get a simple thank you.” I purposely bump into him as I reach for a new glass to prepare her next drink. He smirks, walking off to check the other customers sitting near the bar.
I stare at the side of his face for a moment. For close to twenty years, I’ve put up with his shit. I can only be thankful that Beck isn’t a duplicate of him. Which sounds absurd, considering they are twins. They most definitely come as a packaged deal. But where Blake is obnoxiously annoying at times, Beck is centered and calm. I will say, they level each other perfectly. Blake is just, Blake. Where I am serious about most things, he finds a way to be unbothered. He often reminds me that life isn’t meant to be so serious, so say fuck it and crack a joke.
I shake my head as I finish Raina’s second drink. My eyes drift back to her, standing by the jukebox.What the hell is wrong with me?I’ve only had a few random conversations with this girl, yet I can’t shake the feeling that I want to have just one more—or maybe even more.Abso-fucking-lutely not, Ezra. Get your act together.Frustrated with myself, I sweep my hair out of my face.
“Uh, there goes Gavin on his shit…” Blake chimes beside me. I flick my attention back to Raina, watching as Gavin goes up behind her at the jukebox. We’ve had issues with him in the past, saying inappropriate things to Beck when he’s gotten a good buzz and his dick spoke before his mouth. He was warned, or shall I say threatened. I also cut his drink limit down, and that seemed to help. There hasn’t been a problem since. I don’t take kindly to disrespect, especially when it’s toward a woman. I may seem quiet and to myself to most, but if you willingly push me, you will see a side I try to keep buried away.
I focus intently on him, my gaze burning through the back of his head. Blake steps right up beside me. “Just stay calm, Ez. Hemight just be waiting to pick a song.” As Blake’s words hang in the air, I see Gavin’s left hand trailing along Raina’s lower back, his palm resting exactly where her arch lies beneath her jacket. A wildfire of anger sets off within me. I barely catch Blake’s frustrated grunt of “Ah fuuuuuck,” behind me as I stride towards them. The only thing I can feel is rage boiling over, threatening to spill out. Raina has already yanked his hand away from her back, pointing a tiny finger in his face.
In an instant, I find myself right behind Gavin. I swiftly grab the back of his shirt and kick the back of his right knee, sending him tumbling to the floor while still holding onto his shirt. Coming around and crouching down, I press my knee into his ribcage, leaning my weight into it. He lets out a loud groan from the pressure. “Wha-what the hell, man?” he exclaims. I flash my teeth at him, then hoist him up with one arm, guiding him to the door by his shirt and giving his shoulder a firm shove with my free hand.
Once we’re outside, I spin him around and release his shirt, ensuring we’re close enough for him to sense the anger radiating from me. I exhale sharply through my nose, tasting the blood from where I bit my tongue. “What did I tell you, Gavin?” I demand.
He throws his hands up in confusion. “Man, I was just—”
I step forward, cutting him off. “You’re banned from coming here for a month, and when you do come back, your drink ration is getting slashed even further until you learn to keep your thoughts—and your hands—to yourself. Do you get me?” I can see the frustration flickering in his eyes, the struggle between saying what he really thinks and following my orders to leave quietly. As expected, he chooses to comply, giving me a brief nod. I keep my gaze on him until he drives off in his truck.
As I walk back through the front door, the room falls silent. The only sound is the music playing in the background. I lift my chin,spotting Raina by the bar, arms crossed, clutching the drink I made for her. I scan the room, noticing how everyone quickly resumes their conversations as if nothing had happened. Blake is behind the bar, shaking his head and giving me a knowing look as I step back behind the counter. “Feeling better?” he asks casually.
I shrug. “Not really. Honestly, I would have preferred using my fist…but I refrained.”
Raina sets her now-empty glass down on the counter with a clink. “What was that?” she blurts out, her green eyes looking much greener than before. I catch myself staring at them longer than I should. Blinking, I manage to keep my expression neutral and pull my gaze away.
“I don’t tolerate that kind of behavior in my bar, and this wasn’t his first time being warned.” I glance at her, noticing her chewing on the inside of her lip.
“And what kind of behavior is that?” she asks.
I lean forward, bracing my hands on the counter. “It’s the kind where a grown man disrespects a woman.” She locks eyes with me for a moment, then her gaze travels up and down my neck. My scars and flame tattoos stand out clearly in the shirt I’m wearing today. I watch her eyes trace them like a road map until they meet mine again. She scrunches her tiny nose, and I can see her freckles bunch together on the bridge. A flutter hits my stomach; for a brief moment, I want to count each freckle, tapping my finger gently on each one. I grip the counter tightly, trying to rein in my thoughts.
I clear my throat and ask her, “What’s that look for?”
She offers a slight smile, reaching into her purse. “Honestly, I find it…kinda hot,” she replies. I squint at her, a grin breaking through my usually composed demeanor. She pulls out a crumpled receipt and rummages around for a pen at the bottom of her bag. As she scribbles something down, I watch intently.Finally, she slides the wrinkled piece of paper across the bar toward me. I glance down, reading the number she’s written. “Since you already know where I live, I thought you might as well have my number,” she says. I fall silent, unsure of how to react and uncertain about what she’s expecting from me.
She catches my concerned expression and chuckles softly. “You know, I could really use my own personal bodyguard…Scottie isn’t doing such a great job, anyway.”
As she brushes her fingers through her bangs, she grabs her purse and turns to head out. I furrow my brows. “Wait, are you okay to drive?”
