"You're still coming past tonight?" I asked Alex, already knowing the answer. My brother was the one constant of my life. He was my best friend and the person I looked up to most, so making time for him was something I'd always put first. Our weekly poker game with a few friends was something we always tried to uphold, but the fact that he was here now meant he probably had to work.
"I'm sorry man, I hate to do this to you, but someone called in sick and now I have to work," he grumbled, slumping over the bar. He looked like shit.
I glanced at his beer. "And that's allowed? Shit, you weren't kidding when you said you guys were laid-back." Alex scowled and pushed the beer back over to me, which only made me laugh harder. If his boss heard he had even looked at a beer before work he would be out the door. "Man, I think you just know I'll win. You have the worst poker face I've ever seen."
"Don't mess with me, Jack," he grumbled, reaching behind the bar for a bottle of water. "Today was an ass of a day. I swear, sometimes group therapy is enough to drive me to suicide." He unscrewed the top of the bottle and drank.
“Sitting around listening to other people’s sob stories? How could that not be uplifting?” I asked dryly. “There is no better therapy than knowing someone’s got it worse than you.”
Alex narrowed his eyes at me.
“What? I was kidding!” I chuckled, holding my hands up. Geez, he was so sensitive! Sometimes my humor was so underappreciated.
"Okay. If you say so," he replied, rolling his eyes. He stood up and grabbed his keys. "I gotta run, but I'll try and drop past after my shift." He glanced out the window and winked at me. "Looks like you have company anyway."
I followed his gaze.
Harmony.
Blonde hair, blue eyes, huge tits and a mouth that could suck the brass off a doorknob, Harmony was the closest thing I'd had to a girlfriend since moving over here. When you're only fucking the one girl and you've met her parents, then she kinda-sorta is your girlfriend, whether you like it or not. I prefer the term “friend with benefits,” though I go loosely on the term “friend.” Harmony wasn't a nice girl, which suited me perfectly. The last thing I needed in my life was a nice girl.
I'd been lucky to experience love once, and I'd fucked it up. Nothing made me want to go through that pain again. Everything about Harmony was easy—excuse the pun. So long as I fucked her and took her out occasionally, she was happy.
Well, that's not exactly true. Harmony was never really happy, but she was the kind of girl I knew I was safe with, someone I knew I could never fall in love with, and being with her kept me out of trouble.
I rested my hands on the edge of the bar as she sashayed toward me. Literally. If she put any more wiggle in her hips, she'd topple over.
Alex waved at her, then turned around and rolled his eyes at me before leaving. He wasn't a fan of Harmony. But then again, not many people were. She had more attitude than a drunk socialite, and about as much modesty.
"Hey baby," she crooned, leaning over the bar to kiss me, her breasts practically rolling out of her low-cut red top. My eyes lingered on them. What? I’m a red blooded male, and they were more on display than Miley Cyrus’s tongue.
"How are you?" She plopped herself down as though it had taken all of her energy to do so, and then she sighed loudly.
I cocked my eyebrow, knowing she was hinting for me to ask her how she was. "Yeah, good. You? How's work?" I asked with a smirk, pretending I actually gave a shit. This was why I was so suited to bar work. I could fake interest in any conversation.
"Okay," she sighed. "I can't wait till this place picks up so I can work here."
My eyes widened. What? Her working here?
No. Fucking. Way.
I'd seen her waitress long enough to leave me wondering how in hell she held down a job. Seriously, this girl gave blondes a bad name when it came to using her head. Now, giving head, that was another story. That was a job she could handle quite well. Hell, I'd rather pay her to suck my cock than work my bar. Then again, sucking my cock was kind of working my bar, right?
"What about the club?" I asked her, trying to hide my shock. She worked as a waitress in a strip—sorry, a ‘gentleman’s club…which also kind of explains how we met.
She shrugged. "Well you'll need me here, so of course I'm going to leave, silly." God, I hated it when she did that. I'm twenty-eight, not five. What was next, airplane feeding me my dinner?
"Shit, I'm sorry baby, I hired another waitress today," I said, lying through my teeth. There was no way I could handle her around me 24/7. She almost drove me insane as it was. Besides, I was pretty sure my entire staff would quit with her working here.
"Well un-hire her," she said, her eyes narrowing.
Oh, shit, here we go. Tantrum time. You think it's beyond a twenty-five year old woman to throw a tantrum? Trust me, it's not.
"Harms, she's someone Alex knows," I fibbed, taking her hand. "I can't just un-hire her." I walked around the bar toward her. I nudged her knees apart and slid myself between her legs, wrapping my arms around her waist. She was softening. I tilted her head up and kissed her neck. She sighed, her lips finding mine. She moaned softly and I knew I had her.
Whew, that was close. Now I had to find a waitress.
"Can I come over later? I got you something for your birthday." She smiled mischievously.