Cursed (Enchanted Gods Book 1) by K.K. Allen
Author:K.K. Allen [Allen, K.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: K.K. Allen Books
Published: 2021-07-05T18:30:00+00:00
The main doors to Island Grille are locked when I arrive Monday morning, so I meander around the porch to check out the view while I wait. I lean forward onto the balcony rail and look out at the open sea. The sun is rising above the horizon, creating a mirror image on the calm water as birds soar through the sky. Iâm in a terrible mood thanks to how last night ended with Alec, which was followed by a confrontation with Rose. Despite that, itâs a beautiful day, and I intend to enjoy it.
âWhat are you doing?â
I jump and spin around to glare at the intruder to my thoughts. Itâs Johnny. A very disheveled, tousled hair, and tired-eyed version of him. My heart quickens in my chest, and I donât know if itâs from my eyeful of the guy or the way he snuck up on me just now.
âGeez. You donât have to yell at me.â
He twists his lips like heâs looking at a weirdo. âI didnât yell.â Then he turns and starts to walk back around the corner. âCome on. I need to count the till. You need to fold napkins.â
My eyes are glued to his black shirt as it ripples over a plethora of muscles beneath it. âFun,â I say under my breath so he doesnât hear me.
At least, I hoped he wouldnât. But the way his steps slow for a half of a second make me realize I should be more careful. While heâs nice to look at, heâs 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. âYou can fold these and wrap the silverware inside like this.â He takes a fork, a knife, and a spoon, places them in a folded napkin and rolls the napkin until everything is snug.
I shouldnât be mesmerized by the fluidity of Johnnyâs napkin-folding skills. Nor should I be comparing the size of his thick, calloused hands to Alecâs soft ones. Heâs too much of a hot-headed jerk for me to notice those kinds of things.
âI hope you were taking notes.â He points at the basket and walks away. âGet to work.â
A burning sensation runs through my veins as I watch him strut away. At least he hasnât glared at me yet. Maybe things are looking up.
I start wrapping the silverware the way he showed me. Itâs 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
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