The Rebel (Red's Tavern 2)

Perry lifted an eyebrow at Sam. “I don’t know what that means, Sam, and I’m not going to ask,” he said.

“Hey, Perry,” Sam said, returning behind the bar and putting the rag in its bucket. “You ready for tonight?”

Perry nodded, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “I am. I hope I am, I mean. The brisket is ready for the sandwiches. I prepped the carnitas meat last night. Strawberry reduction is ready for the dessert menu.”

“The producers for Boozy Destinations said that they always film a small segment about the chef, if a bar serves food,” I said, glancing at Perry.

Immediately, Perry’s piercing blue eyes went wide, like I was staring at a scared wolf. “I’m going to be filmed for TV?”

“Not tonight,” I said. “They’re just coming to scout the bar tonight.”

“Coming to check us out,” Sam said happily.

“Yes,” I said. “If they like it, and we do well, we may end up getting an offer to be on the show.”

“Oh, thank God,” Perry said. I watched the tension drain from his face in real time.

It was always sweet how shy Perry was in contrast to the way he looked. People often thought he was a steely stone fox, but in reality, he was a marshmallow on the inside.

“I just hope they like my food,” he said, sounding excited now that he knew he didn’t have to be on TV yet.

“How’s the new appetizer menu coming along?” Sam asked, stretching his arms above his head.

Perry nodded thoughtfully. “The garlic butter shrimp needs something more. I don’t know if it’s going to be white wine or sherry. Or maybe I just haven’t been using young enough garlic…”

Perry drifted into one of his usual daydreams about food, then hurried back into the kitchen, like he’d had a stroke of genius he needed to work on over the stove.

“That’s the most I’ve ever heard him say at one time,” Mitch said.

“If you ask Perry about food, he talks,” I said. “But then he usually runs off to tweak whatever recipe he’s working on.”

“Perry isn’t the best at social stuff,” Sam whispered to Mitch. He glanced toward the kitchen, making sure Perry wasn’t coming back. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s still a virgin, honestly.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s bullshit. He’s forty-something years old. He’s just introverted.”

Sam shrugged. “I’m just saying. I’ve only ever seen him alone.”

I snorted. “Not everyone flirts with everyone they see like you do, Sam.”

Sam grinned. He loved his reputation for being a flirt.

“Speak for yourself,” he said. “It sure looked like you were doing a whole lot more than flirting with Liam Hardy the other day, when we came in.”

My heart did a weird little backflip at the mention of Liam’s name.

“Liam is just... an old friend of mine,” I said.

An old friend of mine that I exchanged incredible fucking blow jobs with and filmed a porn video. No big deal.

“Believe me, I know he’s an old friend of yours,” Sam said. “And I’m so fucking jealous I can’t explain it. When is he coming back in?”

“Hopefully never, so you won’t bug the hell out of him,” I said.

Sam snickered. “I don’t want to bug the hell out of him, I want to fuck the—”

“Enough, Sam,” I said, my voice a little sterner than it probably needed to be. My skin prickled at the idea of Sam trying to sleep with Liam. “We still need to clean all the booths before the producers get here.”

“Okay, okay. You got it, boss,” Sam said. He walked off to get started, and I saw that his tank top had the phrase Drink Me Up, Daddy on the back. I sure hoped the TV producers had a good sense of humor.

It had been three days since I’d last talked to Liam, and I was pretty sure I was going to explode. I typically didn’t mind Sam’s banter, but when he talked about Liam like that, it just brought up every feeling I’d had toward him while we shot the porn video the other day.

I had been completely shocked that the camera wasn’t recording the blow job I’d given Liam. I’d frozen up, totally unable to process it in the moment.

It meant that Liam definitely wasn’t just using me to get a ton of clicks, views, and cash. He had wanted to get off just for me—just because of me—and he also had been totally sober at the moment.

Liam and I had fucked countless times in the past, but the truth was that most of the time, he had been drunk or high on some kind of substance. And I was more naive then, too. I hadn’t realized how often he was taking pills or quietly taking shots in the kitchen. I had often wondered if Liam only connected with me because he was always inebriated.