When Darkness Ends (Moments in Boston #3) - Marni Mann Page 0,8

he wouldn’t take it, and he said, “I didn’t know you worked here.”

I thanked him for the extremely large tip and then replied, “For almost two years.”

“Dylan and I come here all the time. Why haven’t I seen you?”

“I’m sure you have; you just didn’t notice me.”

Even with the area so dark around his eyes, I felt his stare all the way inside me.

“I would have noticed … you’re impossible to miss.”

I was sure he could see my reaction by the color my face was turning.

Not knowing what to say, I asked, “What brings you in tonight?”

“Dylan.” He took a sip from the glass he’d been carrying. “He wanted to get drunk and wasn’t going to take no for an answer.” He adjusted the top of his hat, lifting it enough to show me that beautiful blue stare before tightening it over his head again. “Can I buy you a drink, or is there no drinking while you’re on the clock?”

“That’s really nice of you to offer, but I don’t drink.”

“Ever?” When I shook my head, he added, “How do you have the patience to work here?”

“The tips make it worth it.” I held the edge of the tray against the bottom of my chest. Even though I hadn’t felt his gaze move to that area, I felt so exposed when I was around him. “A lot of the servers spend all of their money here. I don’t have to worry about that, not like if I worked at a grocery store.”

His lids narrowed as his tongue slowly licked across his bottom lip. “You’re intriguing. More so each time I talk to you.”

The same was true about him.

But so was something else.

“Ashe, you’re a dangerous distraction.”

He laughed, a deep, honest noise that made him even more attractive. “That’s an interesting choice of words.”

“If you knew me, you wouldn’t think so.”

“That’s all I’ve been trying to do. But every time you’re within my grasp, you run from me.”

I held the tray even tighter, the plastic rim digging painfully into my ribs. “I’m afraid tonight isn’t going to be any different.”

His lips parted, their fullness almost taunting me, causing me to imagine what they would feel like to kiss.

That certainly wasn’t what I needed.

And that was why I stuck with men who weren’t tempted to ever call again, whom I wouldn’t ever grow feelings for.

Because feelings were the very last thing I needed.

I forced myself to take a step back and another.

“Where are you running to now, Pearl?”

I chewed the corner of my mouth, a heaviness lodging deeper into my chest the more I separated us. “I have to get back to work.” My thumb had been holding his cash, so it wouldn’t fall onto the floor. I waved the twenty in the air. “Thanks again,” I said, and I turned around.

When I reached the bar, I was out of breath. Not from the short distance I’d walked or the speed I’d used. All the air in my lungs was gone because of him. His eyes, his presence, the sensations he caused each time I was around him.

“Are you all right?” Erin asked, lining up several shot glasses to make me another round. “You look like you were just ravished against a wall.”

I reached up, flattening the top of my hair and then pressing my cold hand against my warm cheek. “I feel like I was.”

My fingers returned to the bar top, clinging to the edge. I could feel Ashe’s stare, the intensity like a fire burning me from the inside. It was strong enough that I glanced over my shoulder, searching for him in the space we had just been standing in.

But the spot was empty, Ashe no longer there.

That should have made me relieved.

Except it didn’t.

Six

Before

Ashe

“She works here,” I said to Dylan as I returned to the back of the bar, where we’d been sitting.

He turned toward me as I took the seat next to him. “Who?”

“Pearl, the girl from your study group.”

“She does?” He glanced around the space, as though she were standing close by. “Where is she? Let’s buy her a drink.”

“One, she’s working. And two, she doesn’t drink.”

He dropped his arms against the small table, moving in closer. “Who doesn’t drink their way through college?”

I laughed. “She’s the only one I know.” I paused to really think about it. “It’s admirable.”

Dylan and I had come from a town of partiers, so we’d gotten a good taste of that life before coming to college. Our first two years