Kickstart My Heart (Burgers and Brew Crue #1) - Lacey Black Page 0,14

Gigi or Marla there, not Walker. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I reply, my throat suddenly very dry. “I’m sorry to cause such a scene in the middle of the lunch rush.”

He steps forward, already shaking his head in disagreement. “I don’t want to hear you apologize again, Mal. Not for that. You did nothing wrong. That asshole, or any other one for that matter, has no right to put his hands on you. Got it?”

I nod, my eyes wide as I gaze up at him. He’s not the tallest guy I’ve ever seen, but he’s definitely big compared to my average five-foot-five height.

“Good,” he replies with a slow smile. When it meets his eyes, it’s like his whole face lights up with it. I always thought I was an ass woman, but here I am, completely turned upside down by a smile.

“I should get back out there,” I state, making no move to step around him.

Walker nods but doesn’t step aside either. Instead, he reaches forward and gently tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, the outside of his finger grazing against my cheek. “Knock ‘em dead, Mal,” he says, letting go of my hair and stepping aside.

I practically bolt from the back room and return to the restaurant, happy to see a new table being seated in my section. The first moment I pass Gigi at the servers’ station, she hands me a fifty-dollar bill. When I glance down in shock, she just whispers, “Your tip from earlier.”

Smiling, I slip the bill into my apron and get back to work.

Deep breath.

I’ve got this.

Chapter Five

Walker

“What the hell happened earlier?” Jameson asks the moment I return to the end of the bar where he sits, sipping a Sprite.

“Some douchebag was manhandling the new server,” I reply, my blood still boiling, even though it happened almost an hour ago.

My friend practically growls. “I hate that bullshit.”

“Me too, which is why I escorted them out the front door.” Even now, I still see red when I think about that dick’s hand wrapping around her leg. I wish I could say it was luck I glanced up at the right moment, but that’d be a lie. I was watching her as she smiled and chatted with the customers, making her job look so damn easy. The way she moved, the gentle curve of her tantalizing hips, it had me looking into the restaurant every five seconds like a damn lunatic.

“Good. Hope they don’t come back,” Jameson mutters between sips.

I observe him for a few seconds. He’s watching the ball game behind me on the television, but I can tell he’s not really seeing it. He’s spacing out, his mind a million miles away like he used to do in school.

Of all my friends, I’ve known Jameson the longest. He was the troublemaker, the rebel in high school. We bonded sophomore year over our utmost hatred for all things math and have been friends ever since.

We met Jasper and Numbers during college. Jameson didn’t attend, choosing to work full time as an auto mechanic, but he would often come hang out with me on campus. We went to a fraternity party one night and got to talking to Jasper about the shitty rap music they were playing.

Numbers we didn’t meet until a year later and that was by coincidence. Jameson, Jasper, and I were hanging out in the bathroom of some dive bar, smoking something we shouldn’t have been. Numbers walked in, wouldn’t even make eye contact, and went over to do his business. Right when he started to piss, the smoke alarms went off and water started shooting from the ceiling.

We all ran out of there like our asses were on fire, poor Numbers still trying to zip up. It didn’t take us long to realize it was our fault the alarm was going off, in light of a little recreational pot smoking in the bathroom. Soaking wet, we made it to Jameson’s Nova, one new friend in tow.

So there you have it.

We became friends because we were…

Wait for it…

Smokin’ in the boys’ room.

I lean forward, placing my elbows on the bar. “Tell me.”

Jameson glances my way, his dark eyes assessing. He digs a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and holds it between his fingers. He’s tried quitting a dozen times but can’t seem to kick the habit. I wait him out, knowing he’ll probably use the need to smoke excuse to get out of this conversation and retreat outside. I’m surprised though