The Ink That Brands Us ✔️

Chapter Thirty-One

The bar was a madhouse when I walked in. It didn't matter that it was still early. This place was always teeming with people. I tried not to think of it as a bad omen, just enviable. This place was known for the loose waitstaff.

    I shook my head in disgust and headed for the bar where Conor stood taking orders and making them as fast as he could.

He smiled when I rounded the bar.

    "Hot damn, I might actually get some help around here." His Texas accent was thick and all the girls swooned.

    "Been that kind of night, huh?" I chuckled.

    "Sugar, it's always that kind of night." He gave me a wink, and I went to work.

    To everyone's surprise, I picked up bartending pretty quickly and when Conor and I were working together we ran like a well-oiled machine. Bartending was the only good thing about this place. The waitresses sucked, and the patrons were mouthy.

    "Whiskey neat," someone shouted. The English accent caressed the words and had my head snapping up. Heated eyes bore into me, leaving me breathless. "Hello, luv."

    "What are you doing here?" I breathed.

    "I came for a drink." His face was all innocence, and I narrowed my eyes.

    "Conor will have to get you. I'm busy." I wasn't, but I didn't want him at my end of the bar.

    "I can wait." Oh, I'd make him wait all right.

    I continued to take orders from the surrounding people, ignoring him. When a seat became available, he took it and waited patiently for when I could get to him.

My nerves were on end as he watched me work. It made me cautious.

    "Who's the stalker?" Conor whispered in my ear as he passed.

    "My ex," I grumbled, shooting a look at Jensen.

    "Problem?" Conor asked.

    All I had to do was say the word and Conor would have him tossed out. Though I knew Jensen wouldn't be so easily removed. I wasn't too keen on making a scene so I shook my head.

    "No. He's fine." I went to move around Conor, but he pulled me closer his hand resting on my ass.

I arched an eyebrow at my friend.

    "Just giving him something to think about," he breathed in my ear. A giggle escaped me and I leaned into him more.

    This was why I liked Conor. He always had our backs no matter the situation. I slapped his ass and winked at him before turning back to my station. I sneaked a peek at Jensen and couldn't suppress the grin when I noticed him glaring at Conor. I sighed and made his drink just as the last call bell rang.

    "It's on the house," I said, sliding it in front of him. When I made to move away he reached out and grabbed my wrist. "Excuse you!" I tugged on my hand but he didn't release me.

    "We need to talk," he demanded.

    "No, we really don't." His hold wasn't tight, and he rubbed a gentle thumb over my throbbing pulse. The movement caused goosebumps to break out across my skin.

    "Please, luv." God, why did he have to sound so sad? It was hard enough dealing with my own sadness.

    "Jensen," I sighed. "I'm at work. I have to go. Maybe I'll see you around." I hoped I wouldn't. I wasn't sure how much more I could take. The old wounds were gaping now and I was sure I would bleed out.