Page 63 of Pin My Alpha
“The thing where you polish a hole in the bar because you’re one bad sentence away from locking yourself in the walk-in.”
“I’m working.”
“Sure.”
I dry another glass. “We’re busy.”
“We are,” she agrees. “Which is why you need to stop looking so miserable about it.”
“I’m not miserable.”
Tessa’s eyes narrow. “Is there anything in your life you enjoy that doesn’t involve an alcohol license?”
I look toward Shay again before I can stop myself.
Tessa follows my gaze. Her face softens for about half a second. Then the professional bartender is back in place.
“Don’t push him tonight,” she says, her voice low enough that it’s just for me.
“I’m not.”
“Good. He looks like he’s about to bite someone.”
I rub the fading teeth marks on my forearm without thinking. “Already did.”
Her eyes drop to my arm for a second. “Right. Well, don’t give him a reason to do it again.”
Diego barrels up to the bar, grinning, face flushed from working the door. “Boss, the line’s still around the block.”
“Good.”
“And that girl from the campus paper wants to ask Shay some questions.”
“About what?”
“The rebrand. The vibe.” He shrugs. “Her word.”
Tessa points a thumb toward Shay. “Send her to him.”
Diego’s smile wavers as he looks from me to Shay and back again. He’s been trying to act normal all night, and Diego has never managed to act normal about anything in his life. “Yeah, okay. I’ll get her.” He leans closer to me first. “Hey.”
“What?”
“This is really cool.”
The simple, honest praise from him almost guts me. I clap a hand on his shoulder. “Get back to work.”
“Yes, boss.” He weaves back into the crowd.
Tessa watches him go. “You built something good here.”
I look out over the room. At the booths Knox helped me patch himself, the leather worn and soft. At the framed coasters Benji drew on and still pretends to hate. Milo is by the back table, passing around cookies I told him not to bring, while Callum stands beside him, broad and quiet, a human wall. Jude is trying to get Rhys to pose for a picture by the new sign, and Rhys looks like he’d rather be anywhere else on earth.
My gaze lands on Shay.
He’s talking to the reporter now, his face composed, polite. He gestures to the timeline of old photos we hung on the back wall, and the reporter laughs at something he says. He’s good. So damn good. He knows how to sell a story, how to make this place feel like it belongs to everyone.
He made it feel alive again.
