I didn't see him again for a couple weeks. My idiot managers switched my shifts around, thinking I'd be better working a later shift. Little did they know that I was much nicer to the customers first thing in the morning before I'd woken up enough to realize they were annoying me. However, once they figured it out, I was back to my early morning shifts, slinging coffee and chatting up the patrons, leaving my afternoons and evenings gloriously free.
In celebration, Shay and Carter demanded we go out. Hey, who am I to argue? Especially when they offered to buy. So, we all tromped down that rainy night and gathered at our favorite table. Talk was light, moods were high and I was halfway through my steak boxty when I saw him.
His dark hair was plastered to his forehead from the sudden rainfall, causing his deep green eyes to sparkle even more than usual. I watched his lips quirk up in a half-smile when he saw me with my friends. Tossing me a wink, he made his way over to Bryan.
Heart pounding, I tried to focus on the conversation going on around me. I'd suddenly lost my appetite despite having been ravenous a minute before. Sighing, I'd almost wished I'd stayed home. Almost.
"Excuse me," Damon, one of the cuter waiters interrupted our prattle, "but the gentleman at the bar sent this for you, Miss Morgan."
I was shocked. Looking up, I saw him at the bar, grinning, holding his own glass up in a toast. Carter reached out and closed my open mouth, laughing. "Whoooo, Morgie, I think you've got a live one there."
"Thanks, Damon," I spluttered, trying to ignore Carter's grin. "Tell him thank you for me?"
"Nuh-uh," Shay cut in. "Go tell 'im yourself." She grabbed my arm and made to pull me off my stool.
"But," I spluttered again, uselessly.
"Shay's right, go baby, go."
And how can you argue with that?
I watched his grin grow broader as each step brought us closer. He stood when I was still a foot or two away, pulling out a seat at the bar for me. "Join me?" he asked in that oh-my-God voice.
Blushing, I nodded. "They," I began, pointing to my oh so obvious friends, "wanted me to come say thank you."
He grinned. "And?"
I blushed more. "Thanks?"
He laughed.
And we talked, long after Shay and Carter had given up on us. I'd say we closed the bar down, but hey, this is Vegas baby, and um, well, the bars just don't close here. But I can say we came close.
He walked me to my truck, and asked me for my phone number. He was thankful to have someone so easy to talk to, he'd said, and that I was making this rough time so much easier for him. And I'm a sucker for a handsome man, so I handed my number over, willingly, never really expecting him to call.
But he did.
Every weekend.
That night, he'd kissed me lightly as I sat in the driver's seat of my old Dodge. He stood in the rain, bent over and pressed his lips to mine. I'd known about his girl, but this didn't seem wrong at the time, more like the kind of kiss Carter would've given me, no more, no less. Quick, light, and friendly.
I was in love, I just didn't know it yet.
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