Cursed (Enchanted Gods #1) - K.K. Allen Page 0,43

birds soar through the sky. I’m in a terrible mood thanks to how last night ended with Alec, which was followed by a confrontation with Rose. Despite that, it’s a beautiful day, and I intend to enjoy it.

“What are you doing?”

I jump and spin around to glare at the intruder to my thoughts. It’s Johnny. A very disheveled, tousled hair, and tired-eyed version of him. My heart quickens in my chest, and I don’t know if it’s from my eyeful of the guy or the way he snuck up on me just now.

“Geez. You don’t have to yell at me.”

He twists his lips like he’s looking at a weirdo. “I didn’t yell.” Then he turns and starts to walk back around the corner. “Come on. I need to count the till. You need to fold napkins.”

My eyes are glued to his black shirt as it ripples over a plethora of muscles beneath it. “Fun,” I say under my breath so he doesn’t hear me.

At least, I hoped he wouldn’t. But the way his steps slow for a half of a second make me realize I should be more careful. While he’s nice to look at, he’s not exactly the most pleasant person to be around. Working an entire shift with him will surely be torture.

He walks me into the bar and over to a booth where a basket of blue cloth napkins sit. “You can fold these and wrap the silverware inside like this.” He takes a fork, a knife, and a spoon, places them in a folded napkin and rolls the napkin until everything is snug.

I shouldn’t be mesmerized by the fluidity of Johnny’s napkin-folding skills. Nor should I be comparing the size of his thick, calloused hands to Alec’s soft ones. He’s too much of a hot-headed jerk for me to notice those kinds of things.

“I hope you were taking notes.” He points at the basket and walks away. “Get to work.”

A burning sensation runs through my veins as I watch him strut away. At least he hasn’t glared at me yet. Maybe things are looking up.

I start wrapping the silverware the way he showed me. It’s a monotonous, boring job, but I guess someone has to do it. I glance up to see Johnny standing at the cash register, facing the other direction, and frown. I would love to know what I did to deserve his cold shoulder. It seemed all I had to do was move to town. I could ask him, but then he would get the satisfaction of my curiosity.

After wrapping another napkin, I get a better idea. Who wants a boring rolled-up napkin when they can have something more creative—like the shape of a sun? I jump into a rhythm that sends my hands flying into repetitive motion. I’m done in minutes. When I stand and look up with a satisfied grin, Johnny is standing there with a strange look on his face.

“That was fast.”

I look at my handiwork and shrug. “It was easy. What’s next?”

The top of my head only reaches his collarbone, so I have to lift my chin to meet his gaze. He stares down with a heated intensity that could fry an egg. From here, I get a good look at the scar that runs from the side of his eye to the top of his right cheek. It takes everything in me to contain my shudder as I imagine him in some sort of biker brawl that he most likely won.

His eyes flicker down to the table—to my masterpiece. He lifts one of the cloth suns, shakes out the silverware, and dangles it in front of him. “What the hell is this?”

My words are lost at first. I swallow my nerves and stand up straighter. “Anyone can roll a napkin. These”—I give an excited wave of my hand—“are fun.”

“I don’t remember asking for fun.” With a shake of his wrist, the napkin unravels, and he tosses it on the table. “Fix them all.”

I drop into my seat, mouth agape. Johnny walks toward the kitchen, and I am utterly speechless. I know he’s rude, but I’m not sure if his growl is worse than his bite. Frustration consumes me, and as soon as he’s out of sight, I’m making quick work of the task he gave me, undoing what I created and rewrapping the silverware the way he instructed.

Not enough time has passed, and I’m still fuming when I lift myself from the seat and march into the staff