I'm nervous walking into the club tonight. My mind has been going crazy thinking about what happened between Seven and I in the store room last Wednesday and then how he's ignored me while I worked the rest of the last week.
Well ignore might not be the right word, because he still watched me from afar. But he's definitely been keeping his distance. So much so that at the end of my Saturday shift when I went to find him to collect my pay Curby came to the bar to pay me instead.
When I talked to Mesha about it she was shocked. She reminded me that the men aren't allowed to get close with workers, and that to get close with someone like Seven is very dangerous. I kind of found that interesting, he runs a strip club and manages escorts but I haven't seen anything dangerous about him really. The guy is intimidating as heck when he wants to be, but the guy I've talked to who smirked at my jokes of running him over with my shitty little car and asks for a water at a bar doesn't seem that dangerous.
But Mesha insisted him keeping his distance is a good thing and that I shouldn't even be entertaining any ideas of my boss. I know she's right, she usually is with this kind of stuff I've come to realise. And when I walked into work on Wednesday, a week after our moment in the store room, Seven wasn't even at the club so it was a lot easier to stay away from him.
I had asked the server if she had seen Seven and she told me he'd probably left the city again. Apparently he actually only comes to visit the club once every month or two and doesn't usually stay more than one day unlike how he has been the past couple weeks. She went off on some tangent about Seven's uncle that I didn't understand at all not that I could even concentrate, I was a little preoccupied digesting his absence. I ignored the slight deflation I felt in my chest at her revelation that I wouldn't be seeing Seven around for at least a month.
But today is Friday now and much to my surprise when I pulled up at the back of the club Seven's car was parked in its usual spot at the back of the lot. This is the reason I'm nervous. I don't know what to expect with him when I see him. Will he ignore me like he did last week? Will he just disappear like he did the last two days?
I remind myself of what Mesha told me, that I shouldn't be entertaining any ideas about Seven. And I physically shake my head to rid my mind of any thoughts of him before walking into the club.
It's already busy but I've learnt that's standard for Friday's and Saturday's at the club, they're always the busiest. I don't bother to search the club for any familiar faces and instead focus myself on getting behind the bar and getting to work on the list of drink orders I know will be waiting for me.
"I have two trays waiting already." The brunette servers says as I pull glasses out. I've learnt her name is Kitty. It's not her real name obviously but it's what she goes by here. She's taken it upon herself to refer to me as Lips because apparently she wants to take my lips to her surgeon. I'm not a fan of the nickname so I hope it doesn't stick with any of the other workers.
"It's that busy already?" I give myself a second to finally gauge the room. It's busy but not too packed.
"They're just that ready to drink. There's a stags group here." She whines as she watches me make drinks as fast as I can.
"Is that a bad thing?" I ask her amused at her clear distaste of the bachelors.
"They're always cunts." Kitty states and the strong word takes me by surprise.
"What?" She questions me, taking in my raised eyebrows.
"Any guy who is willing to come to a place like this before he's meant to marry the woman he loves is a cunt." Kitty repeats.
"Remind me to not let your future hubby come here then." I joke and she shakes her head.
"There's no way I'd ever get married." She defends.
"Why's that?" I question her, turning to grab bottles off the back shelf.
"It's just not for me. I don't like the idea of it at all. There aren't many things that give me the ick but marriage definitely does. What about you?" Kitty asks me.
"What gives me the ick?" I ask her pouring two drinks at once. I've gotten pretty good at my job now. What can I say, I'm a fast learner.
"No, what are your thoughts on marriage?" Kitty clarifies.
"I don't know." I dance around the subject out of her clear repugnance over it.
"Oh please, I just know you're the type to love that kind of bullshit." She mocks harmlessly and I shrug.
"I bet you've already got your dress picked out." She grins teasingly.
"No." I lie and turn back to the liquor shelf.
Kitty's eyes roam around the club as I finish making the last of the drinks.
"Your trays are ready." I point out to her and she looks down at the trays surprised.
"Shit you did that quick." She comments and I give her my sweetest smile.
"That's what she said." I joke and Kitty cackles before scooping up the full trays and whisking them away to the respective thirsty customers.
Although she was very standoffish at first, Kitty has warmed up to me slowly and her small conversations when she restocks her trays are my usual entertainment that get me through shifts. She's a bit of a gossip sometimes but I never understand most of her stories she tells me about people I don't know.
I return the rest of the bottles back to the shelves, set out some more glasses in preparation and hack at the ice with the ice scoop to loosen it up.
"Looking like a real bartender now, darling." Curby voice chimes from across the bar.
"Thanks, I've been practicing." I turn to smile at him. I've missed Curby and his slightly flirtatious chats and cheeky smile. He's also been absent the last few days with Seven. Well I assume he's been with Seven, usually wherever Seven is Curby isn't far behind.
"Could ya whip me up a beer?" He asks.
"Drinking on the job now? Are things that bad." I tease playfully.
"Hey now I'm always allowed the one." Curby defends with a wink.
"Bottle or tap?" I ask him.
"Bottle will do." He nods towards the fridge stacked with bottled beverages near the end of the bar. I grab him out a chilled beer and pop the top off, sliding it over the counter for him.
"Cheers." He grabs the bottle and holds it to his mouth. My eyes find the deep cuts over his knuckles surrounded by harsh blue bruises. I flick my gaze away from them before he notices.
"Where's Seven?" My mouth asks him before I can stop it. Curby's head cocks to the side at my question.
"Have you been missing him, darl?" Curby grins over his bottle at me.
"What? N-No. I was just asking—" I stammer out as a customer comes to the bar, interrupting us.
"Can I get a round of shots?" The guy asks. He's young, maybe only a few years older than me.
"Yeah sure." I tell him, moving from Curby to grab some shot glasses.
"How many and what do you want?" I ask him.
"Four shots. And I want you." The guy says and I roll my eyes. I've heard so many lines like this since working here. After the first few you get use to them. Some of the things I've heard and witnessed while working here these past couple weeks has somewhat desensitised me to the crass things that leave some men's mouths. Nothing they suggest or say really shocks me anymore, though I'm glad, it's always the reaction they're after so I've learnt not to give them one.
"Just tell the woman what you want to drink." Curby remarks and the guy looks over at him unamused by Curby's interruption.
"Tequila." The guy finally answers and I go to the fridge to get out the pre sliced lime wedges and the tequila bottle from the shelf.
I pour the four shots, balancing the wedges over the small glasses and put a salt shaker on the bench for him.
"Have one with me." The guy demands rather than asks.
"No thanks." I shake my head.
"Why not?" He pouts dramatically. He reminds me a lot of the frat guy I use to sleep with at uni. The over confident type.
"I'm working and I've got to drive home." I tell him and move my attention to wiping down the bench even though it's already clean.
"Can I take a shot off you then?" He asks and I actually laugh. No ones asked me that yet.
"No." I shake my head amused and he frowns.
"Ask one of the other girls." Curby suggests to him.
"They're not as hot as her." The guy replies to Curby as if I'm not standing right here.
Curby looks at me, his eyes asking if he should get rid of this guy and I just shake my head at him. This guy is annoying but harmless.
He begins to take his first shot, wincing at the burning liquor before desperately shoving a lime in his mouth. Curby stands from his seat downing the last of his beer. He slams the glass bottle down slightly dramatically, sighing a loud satisfied sigh before nodding at me and leaving. He must have really needed that beer.
"At least let me lick the salt off you." The guy starts up again.
"No." I reject him rolling my eyes again.
"Boys!" The guy turns around, yelling over the music to gain the attention of his friends. A few guys look over towards us at the bar before walking over.
"I got us shots." He tells the three guys who stand by him at the bar. All of their eyes are ogling my body. I look down at the semi lace bodysuit and black denim shorts I'm wearing. By the way they're staring at me you'd think I'm just as naked as the woman on stage right now.
"Been tryna convince this one to let me lick the salt off her." He tells his friends.
"I'd lick anything off that." One of his friends comments. He's short and full around the middle, I'm sure he'd lick anything off anyone given the chance.
"What's your name?" One of the others asks me. Shit. I've actually never been asked this yet, surprisingly. But I know I'm not meant to give out my real name here.
"Uhhh—" I struggle to think of one of the fake names Mesha and I have been listing off all week for this very moment.
"Lips!" Kitty calls with impeccable timing, slamming her tray down.
"I need two whiskey drys." She says. And I get to work on the drinks for her.
"Lips?" The tallest of them asks.
"Your names Lips?" The first guy questions and Kitty looks over at them then back to me before rolling her eyes.
"Your mother named you appropriately." The fat one sniggers.
"Of course it's not her real name idiots." Kitty says and I place the drinks onto her tray for her. She leaves too soon and the guys take their shots before continuing to talk at me.
"I bet those lips are impeccable." The other finally speaks. His hair is cropped very short and I get the feeling he's in some form of defends force from the untrendy haircut. Maybe the army by the way his t-shirt clings to his big arms.
"Yeah, around my dick." The original guy adds and all his friends laugh. I say nothing and simply stare at them bored.
"What do you say Lips? Keen to suck my friend off? We'll pay you well. Extra if you swallow." His army looking friend leans onto the bar, staring directly at my tits.
"I'll stick to just pouring drinks thanks." I fold my arms to block his view.
"Come on what's your price?" He pushes.
"Bet she's expensive." The tall one pipes up.
"Maybe not. Her lips look well used." Fatty jokes and they all laugh. I frown at them, getting pissed off now.
"Did you want anymore drinks?" I ask them.
"Thought we made it obvious what we want." Jarhead says still leaning over the counter.
"Did mummy never tell you what no means?" I say sarcastically, leaning forward to him slightly.
I watch as the guy lowers his eyes at me sourly, the corner of his mouth lifting in disgust. Must've hit a nerve with the Mum comment. Before I can even react the guy lifts one of his large arms, his hand reaches over the bar and grips around my chin sharply. His fingers immediately pinching harshly into my cheeks and my eyes widen in shock and distress.
"Listen here you little bitch—" He begins but the loud sound of glass smashing next to us takes his attention. My eyes look to the side to see Seven standing next to the guy still holding my face. The green beer bottle Curby had left on the counter is clutched in Seven's hand. Only the bottom of it is now shattered into jagged edges and I see the rest of the glass sprinkled over the counter where Seven must've purposely hit it against the bar.
Seven grabs the collar of the man still gripping my face and holds the weaponised end of the bottle to the mans neck all within seconds.
"Let. Her. Go." Seven's voice is low, clear and incredibly menacing. He presses the sharp glass to the mans skin on his throat and the guy let's go of my face immediately. As soon as he does I step back and hold it, trying to soothe the sting from the guys harsh hold.
"C-Chill out man we were just playing around." Jarhead lies looking at Seven with wide terrified eyes. I look around and notice a lot of people are staring at their interaction. Curby is making his way over from the other side of the club, his eyes wide. He looks worried. I don't think I've ever seen Curby look worried before.
"That's how you play around is it?" Seven spits through clenched teeth.
"Yeah man we were just having fun." The original guy speaks up.
"Well then now you can watch me just having fun." Seven presses the glass further into the guys skin and I watch as a drop of blood rolls down the guys neck and he winces.
"What the fuck man!" The guy pants feeling the glass cut into him and his friends all take cautious steps away from Seven.
"Apologise." Seven orders the large guy.
"What?" Jarhead replies confused and winces again when Seven pushes the glass against him harder.
"Fucking apologise!" Seven repeats louder.
"S-Sorry!" The guy stammers out.
"Not to me. To her." Seven nods his head to me behind the bar and the guy turns his head as much as Seven's grip allows him to try look at me.
"I'm sorry." He repeats.
"Sev." Curby says, coming up next to Seven.
"Come on mate, put the glass down." Curby speaks quietly to Seven, trying to calm him down. The murderous look in his eyes sets my teeth on edge. He looks as though he doesn't want to listen to Curby and wants to lodge to sharp object right into the mans neck.
"Sev." Curby warns again.
"Don't cause a scene." He implores. Seven nicks the guy with the glass a second time causing him to wince in pain once again before he finally drops his grip on him and let's the guy step away.
"Get them out." Seven tells Curby who glances quickly to me then back before nodding at Seven. Curby rounds the men up to kick them out and everyone watching goes back to their own business now that the drama has ended.
"Are you okay?" Seven asks me, his eyes not meeting mine as he places the broken bottle on the counter. I drop my hands from holding my face.
"Yeah." I say quietly, I'm a little unsettled by what just happened. From the guys gross remarks, to him grabbing my face and then Seven cutting his neck with a broken bottle.
I move and collect the four empty shot glasses off the counter before grabbing a cloth to start cleaning up the smashed glass. Seven stays silent as he watches me. I haven't seen him since my shift last Saturday but now that he's right in front of me I'm fighting with myself to not look at him.
"Ouch!" I drop the cloth as a sharp sting tears at my finger. I pull my hand up to inspect it and it's already bleeding.
"Shit." I say quietly.
"You good?" Seven asks.
"Yeah. I just cut my finger on the glass." I tell him glancing up at him. His eyes are on my hand, blood is flowing down my finger now.
"Do you have any plasters or something?" I ask him.
"There's a first aid kit in the store room." He says moving from the bar.
"Come." He demands and I watch him walk around the bar and out the back to the store room before following.
I stand in the middle of the storage room as Seven looks through draws before pulling out a small first aid kit. I walk over to him as he unzips the small pack and pulls out plasters and a little bottle of liquid.
"Hold out your finger." He instructs and I hold out my bloodied digit for him. It looks much worse then it really is.
"This might sting a little. It's solution to disinfect the wound." He warns me before opening the little bottle and pouring it over the cut in my finger, not caring about the solution mixed with my blood hitting the concrete floor of the store room.
It does sting a little but not as bad as I was expecting. I stay silent, watching Seven's tattooed hands and ringed fingers intricately open the plasters. His knuckles are peppered with violet bruises and scabs. Did he and Curby disappear to go punch cinder blocks for two days or something? Both of them have completely busted hands.
He brings the plasters up to my own busted finger. His large hand holds my wrist gently to keep my hand still, my eyes watch the way his long fingers delicately lace around my wrist. Seven's hands are huge compared to mine and I ignore the tingling in my stomach that comes from his soft touch and instead focus on how he expertly wraps the plasters around the cut in a way I've never seen before.
"That should do it." Seven nods at my finger.
"I stuck them so you should still be able to bend your finger without any problems." He explains, turning my wrist in his hand so I can see his handy work.
"Thanks." I look up from studying my finger and my eyes meet his for the first time since almost a week ago.
My breath is instantly stuck deep in my lungs and I'm overly aware of his warm hand still wrapped around my wrist. I can feel the rough calluses on his palm, the cool metal of his rings against my skin.
Seven's eyes hold mine for what feels like minutes rather than seconds. His eyes are flicking with far too many emotions that I can't even pick out one. We're standing very close again and I'm reminded of our moment by the fridge in this very room. Maybe he is also being reminded of it. Almost as if to answer me his eyes flick down to my lips, his own mouth parts as he does. I can't breath, or I've forgotten how to. Seven still hasn't let go of my wrist.
His brows pull together and eyes find mine again as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip to wet it.
"I—" Seven begins but stops when we hear someone calling for him.
"Sev! You back here?" Curby calls coming into the store room.
Seven drops my wrist and steps away from me within a second, just as Curby rounds the corner.
"There you are." Curby smiles. His smile falters slightly while looking at us. We must both have weird expressions on our faces. I know my cheeks are glowing right now too. Curby's eyes dart between us and his head cocks to the side inquisitively.
"Did I interrupt something?" He questions and I look to Seven to answer.
"No." He answers calmly but his face is pale and the look on his face resembles that of a child who's just been caught opening presents before Christmas.
"Lilianna cut her finger on the broken glass so I was showing her where the first aid kit was." Seven explains and I look back to Curby and hold my bandaged finger up in confirmation.
"Right." Curby says as if he doesn't quite believe him, still looking between the dumb looks painted on both mine and Seven's faces.
"Victor's outside waiting for you." Curby tells Seven.
"He's here?" Seven asks Curby and it's the first time I've ever heard Seven sound nervous before.
"Yeah he's not staying. Just came to pick you up." Curby says.
"Okay." Seven sighs and glances at me.
"I uh..." He frowns before dropping his eyes to the floor.
"I'll see you tomorrow Lilianna." Seven says with a sharp nod before leaving out the storage room with Curby.
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