Sprung by Kate Benson

Author:Kate Benson [Benson, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-01T18:30:00+00:00

chapter thirteen

evie

“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes narrowed as he peers over the bar at me with a smirk. “You need to stop.”

“I need to stop?” I ask, eyes wide in disbelief. “I’ve been watching you honey and baby and sweetie these whores for the last hour and I’m the one with the problem?”

“Don’t get jealous, baby,” he shakes his head, eyes still dancing slightly in amusement. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, get over yourself,” I roll my eyes. “I’m not jealous, I just think it’s gross to blatantly flirt when you have a girlfriend.”

“They don’t know I have a girlfriend,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, but you do,” I raise my eyebrow.

“You need to chill,” he laughs as he steps away, taking money from another floozy. As she slips him a ten and gives him a giggly wave goodbye, he winks as his lips move into a wide grin. “Thanks, sugar.”

By the time he moves back to the register near my end of the bar, it’s happened twice more and I’m ready to pummel him.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I hiss.

“Baby, I’m working,” he says quietly as he presses a few buttons on the register, more eager to keep our disagreement under wraps than I am at the moment. “And about ninety percent of my income is off of tips. Do you seriously think these women are gonna tip me if I just slide a drink over and tell them to fuck off? No, they won’t. They come in here for the experience and flirting with the bartender is part of that.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Maybe so, but that’s the breaks, babe,” he shrugs. “I’d probably be sleeping on your mom’s couch if I didn’t flirt and act the way I do behind this bar.”

“I don’t believe that at all,” I disagree, mumbling a trail of expletives under my breath as he moves to the other end.

I watch his tattooed biceps bulging beneath his shirt as he leans over to hear the woman staring up at him. He finishes the order, laughing deep as she leans over the bar and whispers something into his ear, brushing her whore fingers over the collar of his shirt. His eyes go wide for a second before he pulls away and palms the generous tip, thanking her as she saunters away. Tramp.

A few minutes later, he returns to find my eyes still narrowed in disgust.

“What did she just say to you?”

“Baby…”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure I’m being annoying, but this is getting ridiculous,” I insist. “You don’t have to flirt and be a pig to make money, Dash.”

“Evie,” he starts, unable to keep the loud laugh from bounding from his chest. “Baby, I swear to God if you quote even one lyric of ‘Roxanne’ by The Police, I’m gonna throw your crazy little ass in a fuckin’ cab.”

“You’re so dumb,” I flip him off, fighting the smirk. “And for the record, I still don’t believe you. You’re obviously just using that as an excuse because you like flirting with other women.

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