maybe it would be a good idea to go back to the apartment for the night.
An hour later, as I wash the sliced lemons container on my end of the bar, I'm still pondering my options while debating the likelihood that I have undiagnosed bipolar disorder. A shot glass slides across the bar in front of me. I look up to see Taryn at my right, grinning, holding a glass of her own.
"Shhh," she says with a wink. "I won't tell if you won't. It's closing time anyway." She pulls a ten dollar bill out of her pocket and throws it down.
At least she's paying.
Normally, I would politely decline, but a shot to calm my nerves and ease my troubled thoughts sounds like a good idea. I wipe my hands on a towel and grab the tiny glass.
Taryn raises hers and smiles at me. "Salut!" she exclaims with a nod.
I nod and raise mine as well, and we both toss back our shot. I don't need to ask what she poured. The vodka burns all the way down.
Making a deep, growly "ah" sound, Taryn grins at me. "Come out with me. You look like you need a night of frivolous fun."
Before I can answer her, Cash's voice interrupts us. "Olivia," he calls from the doorway of his office. "Come see me before you go. There are a few things I need to discuss with you."
"Okay," I reply, my stomach tightening with a mixture of excitement, desire and dread. He ducks back into his office and closes the door. I turn to Taryn. "Next time?"
"Sure," she responds pleasantly. "I'll just finish up and head out."
She wanders back down to her end of the bar and it occurs to me that we might actually make it to being friends one day.
Go figure.
I piddle a little, slowing down enough that Taryn can finish before I go back to "meet" with Cash.
"Tada!" she exclaims, throwing her towel in the sanitizer to soak. "All right, Livvi, I'm outta here. Wish you could come, but duty calls." She tips her head toward Cash's office and rolls her eyes. Grabbing her purse from the shelf under the counter, Taryn circles around to approach me from the other side of the long, black bar. Planting her hands on the shiny surface, she leans forward and gives me an air peck like she's kissing each cheek. "'Night, doll."
I'm still struggling with disbelief as I watch her walk through the door and out into the night, dread locks swinging. I decide that dramatic personality shifts like that can't be healthy.
The instant the front door thumps shut, Cash's office door opens. He emerges, his expression hard and determined. With purpose, he crosses the empty room and locks the double-doors behind Taryn.
For a few seconds, all that I've been worrying about for the last couple of hours fades away like the space his long stride eats up so effortlessly. I'm mesmerized just watching him, the way he moves. His long, muscular legs flex with each step. His perfect butt shifts behind the pockets of his jeans. His wide shoulders are square and straight above his trim waist.
And then he turns toward me.
I might never get used to how handsome he is. It might never fail to leave me breathless. His nearly-black eyes bore hot holes into mine. They don't break contact as he crosses the room again, this time toward me.
He hops over the bar and lands beside me. Without a word, he bends, throws me over his shoulder and carries me down the length of the bar and through the cut-out on the other end.
My heart is pounding as he takes me through the office and into his apartment on the other side. My body is on fire with desire and anticipation for what's to come, but my mind is still harboring some doubt and insecurity from earlier. I'm debating whether to say something to him and go back home for the night or just ignore every shred of rational thought and stay, when he sets me on my feet.
Immediately, his lips cover mine and all other considerations are gone. He pushes me back against the apartment door. I feel it click shut behind me.
He takes my hands and brings my arms above my head, pinning my