“The hot Avery Rose?” he asks with a sly grin and my grin drops. Markus, though, sputters with laughter, I guess from the look I’m giving Chase. “Whoa. No offense, didn’t know she was taken.”
“She isn’t,” Markus sings and I glare back at him.
“Yet,” I correct him, which only makes him laugh harder.
“Oh, trying to get with her, then? She’s hot and talented, for sure.”
“Yeah, I wonder where she is.”
“Oh, she’s in the back setting up stuff with the sound guy.”
Confused, I ask, “She’s here?”
“Yeah, been here for like an hour.”
That brat.
Grinning, I roll my eyes, but then I pause when my gaze falls on a “Help Wanted” sign. Like I said, I’m not a coffee guy, but apparently this is the place Avery is always hanging according to her Facebook. She also likes to study here, so maybe I should come here more often. “You’re hiring?”
“Yeah, you need a job?”
I pause. Do I? I mean, I know I do, not only to get Jude and Jayden off my ass but also to get some of my own money in my pocket. The only problem is I have no clue how to make coffee.
“Yeah.”
“I heard about the divorce. Sorry, bro.”
“Thanks. But yeah, just something part time.”
“That’s what I’m looking for.”
“I have no coffee-making experience.”
“I can train you.”
“Cool, yeah. Can you work with my hockey schedule?”
He nods. “Of course.”
“Awesome.”
“When can you come in to train? I’m usually here in the mornings.”
“What time?”
“Like four. I know, sucks,” he says when I make a face of disgust, but I know that time will work. I’ll come here, work, and then head to hockey. Yeah, I’m losing two hours of sleep, but it can work.
“Okay, I’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Cool,” he says just as the strum of a guitar catches my attention. Looking at the stage, I see Avery standing there in all her beautiful glory. She’s in a pair of tight jeans and a white tee that hangs off her shoulder. Her hair is in wild curls down her shoulders with a big, floppy black hat on her head. She looks so small in that shirt since it hangs off her so much, and then add in the guitar that looks huge in her small, delicate hands. But she looks so fucking hot, I can’t stand it. It’s like I forgot how attractive she is in the little time we were apart.
She must have felt me staring at her because she looks up, her eyes sparkling underneath all the makeup she is wearing. Her lips are painted a dark r
ed color, and I’m unsure if I can handle how drop-dead gorgeous she looks. As she gives me a sneaky little grin, my lips curve and she looks away, putting her guitar on the stand and heading offstage. I think she is coming to me, but then she goes to the back and I’m confused.
Shouldn’t she be greeting me or something?
Just then my phone dings and I look down to see a text from her.