Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men 9)

Well, I didn’t even care what he was doing. So, there.

Truth be told, I was more concerned with what Colton was doing right now. How much did he hate me? And how the hell was I go

ing to avoid him from here on out whenever he showed up at the bar to visit his brother? Because there was no way I’d ever be able to face him again. The humiliation would kill me.

I’d quit.

Yes!

The idea came in a flash, and for a moment, I was tempted to do just that. I was honestly that afraid of facing Colton again. But then…that was a ridiculous reason to quit a job. And bartending at Forbidden was the most lucrative employment I’d ever had with the best boss I’d ever worked for. I couldn’t quit my job.

I only had one semester left of college, then I could move away—far, far away—find my dream job in business finance, and live happily ever after, taking care of no one but myself. That was the plan, and I was sticking to it.

So, I’d just have to be a big girl and suck it up if I ever stumbled across Colton’s path again. And if he happened to demand an apology from me, well…then, I guess I’d just give him one. He deserved that, at the very least.

But he really hadn’t seemed like he’d wanted an apology last night before he’d stormed from that room, so maybe…maybe we’d never have to talk again.

One could always hope.

Except the idea of never talking to him again kind of made me feel sick and shaky and restless.

“I still can’t believe he got married in the beginning of January,” Sasha was saying, jerking me from my straying thoughts. “I mean, really. Who gets married then?”

I sighed and shrugged. This was about the fifth time she’d voiced her opinions about the date Brandt and Sarah had picked for their ceremony.

“I mean, New Year’s Day, okay, I can see the point there. But the eighth? Why?”

I didn’t have an answer, and honestly, I didn’t care. I was just happy this meant Brandt would now be gone from work on his honeymoon and away from the bar for the next week. I think he’d mentioned they would return a day or two before college classes resumed for the new semester, where he was going to begin his graduate program in physical therapy. To me, though, what it really meant was a weeklong reprieve where Colton would have no reason whatsoever to stop by the club.

Thank God.

Five hours later, my jaw dropped and I whispered, “What the fuck?” as Colton stepped inside the Forbidden Nightclub.

Behind the bar where I’d been in the middle of mixing a Tom Collins, I immediately dropped down onto my haunches so I could hide behind the counter. But I realized what a cowardly idiot I must look like right about the time Bob, my coworker, arched me a questioning glance.

“I…I spilled some, er, ice,” I fumbled out lamely, my face heating with shame.

What the hell was I doing? I couldn’t hide down here. Besides, I was a bold, confident woman—or, you know, at least that was the goal—I could fucking face the guy I had totally wronged.

Pushing to my feet, I brushed my bangs out of my eyes, straightened my shoulders and cleared my throat before daring to move my gaze his way. But as soon as I took him in, everything inside me started clanging wildly out of control. As nervous as I was about his reaction to last night’s…uh, events between us, I couldn’t seem to stop the memories from tumbling through my brain. They heated my insides and made me feel flushed and breathless.

He approached the bar with a lazy kind of grace, and my stomach flipped madly while my toes began to curl. He walked with the same slow, talented swagger as he had when he’d backed me up onto the table and slid his hand inside my dress.

“Hey, Colton,” Bob greeted him with a head nod. “Awesome wedding last night.”

I swerved my coworker a startled glance. I hadn’t known Bob had been there. His name card had been at my table, yet I hadn’t even spotted him.

Nice of him to leave me stranded by myself at our table.

Asshole.

“Yep,” Colton answered, his voice sending this buzz of complete awareness through me. Compelled to turn back his way, I watched him point toward the opening of the hall that led into the back. “Pick around tonight?”

“Sure is,” Bob answered. “Go on back.”

“Thanks,” Colton murmured and headed that way.

We all knew Brandt and his family were in tight with the club’s big bossman, so it wasn’t surprising at all that Colton would want to see Pick. But as soon as he disappeared out of sight, one glaring fact struck me like a stinging slap right across the face.