“That’s physically impossible,” I pointed out trying not to stare too hard into his eyes, eyes that looked familiar.
“And yet… here I am.” He grabbed one of the bottles in front of me and then disappeared back into his office. Huh, so maybe that was why he owned bars. Alcoholic? Wanted an excuse to sit at his desk with a bottle of Jack?
I shoved the thought away, grabbed some of the bar menus, and put them on the table just as the music turned on.
Timber chose that moment—what, like five seconds later?—to walk out of his office, deposit an empty liquor bottle on the bar, and say, “Told you.”
He walked in a straight-line back; he looked tense, like he was upset that liquor had once again failed him some way.
“Impossible,” I muttered under my breath.
“That…” Tarek appeared out of nowhere. “…seems to be the case with all things Timber, but I promise, what you see, is truly what you get.”
I frowned. “He must have a high alcohol tolerance.”
Tarek snorted.
“What?”
He held up his hands. “Hey if you want to test that theory,” he eyed all the liquor bottles.
“I’m game.” I shrugged. Nothing else to do since we weren’t opening for another twenty minutes, besides there was something about him, something menacing and comforting all at once. He reminded me of the darkness, of my dreams, and I liked that more than I cared to admit. Great, two days in and I was acting crazy. “He likes Jack?”
“He likes to forget, and he needs to remember.” Tarek said cryptically. “Then again what do I know, I’m just a bartender with a man bun.”
“And a Scottish burr.”
“And here I thought I hid it so well.” He winked. “Not everything is as it seems, Kyra, remember that. Make the boss a drink, then get your ass back here to work.”
“On it.” I exhaled a breath and started mixing a concoction I’d seen on Facebook it was basically liquor on top of liquor on top of more liquor and finished off with beer. If that didn’t do the trick—he wasn’t human.
I snorted out a laugh at myself.
Right. What else could he be? A vampire.
I laughed again at myself, picked up the drink, and made the short trek to his office. The door was open. His eyes were locked on the screen of his laptop. “Did you need something person with the crazy name that makes no sense?”
“Oh good to know that’s how you’ll address me from here on out, kind of a mouthful don’t you think?”
And nothing, no twitching lips, no smile, just… silence.
And sighing.
The guy sighed a lot, like the world was a burden, like the air around him offended his person.
I’d met him, what? Twice? And I could already see that he just… wasn’t happy, no containment, no inspiration, just this waste of male beauty and darkness.
Something warmed in my chest.
He just… he needed something to be excited about.
Right?
“Here,” I walked fully into his office and set the drink down on the mahogany table. “You said booze doesn’t work on you and well, I like a good challenge.”
He eyed the drink skeptically. “Do you now?”
“Absolutely, if that doesn’t knock you on your ass, I’ll owe you.”