Chapter 15

A cacophony of chatter fills the silence, overpowering the smooth jazz filtering from the unseen speakers. With sunglasses fixed to the front of my face, I approach the bar with eyes forward. Always eyes forward. The richness of male voices are everywhere, never broken by the slightest, feminine whisper. Francisco's is far busier than it was last night, but I should have expected that coming into a bar on a Friday night.

I settle into the second to last bar stool and prop my elbows onto the marble countertop. Multiple bartenders lean towards their eager customers, learning their orders with practiced memory. My gaze bounces from one to another until I locate my reason for coming here.

Cade lifts a bottle of Grey Goose high into the air and drains a good amount into a martini glass. He sets it down and reaches for the next bottle, his every movement as fluid and graceful as the very liquid splashing into its new glass container.

He's confident when he makes drinks; he's confident in his work. It reminds me of Blake – Blake and his many loyal employees. Blake and his imperturbable work ethic and unshakable composure as he takes that first step into work day in and day out.

Blake and his date with that stupid, fucking Phil.

I imagine Blake's normally poised, masculine torso leaning across the table to whisper something into Phil's ear. The movement would be relaxed and effortless, no doubt. That's how Blake moves, though, his sureness so potent that it borderlines seduction.

My teeth begin to ache from my jaw working itself tighter and tighter. Fucking Phil. I mean, don't get me wrong. I don't want Blake for myself. Really, I don't. There's just something about Phil that makes my skin crawl.

The dude is a leech, possessive and....wasn't he the one that didn't want commitment in the first place? Right. So he's a hypocrite, too.

Add that to the list.

"Well, well well. Callum; didn't think I'd see you again. Especially not in here."

The friendly voice pulls me out of my moment clutched within fury's talons. I glance up at Cade and he smiles. His hair is slicked back today, a sleeker appearance than the slightly disheveled look he was sporting yesterday.

"I was thirsty," I mutter. "And he's not the boss of me."

I don't have to go into any greater detail. Based on the slight altercation that occurred here last night, Cade is all too aware of who I'm referring to. He chuckles and leans across the bar, just as he did for his last customer only minutes ago.

"Alright then handsome, what can I get for you?"

I scoff and roll my eyes in disgust. "You're an idiot."

Cade smirks and shrugs. "Hey, that's how we're trained to do it. Plus, it's proven to be an excellent tactic in earning a few extra tips."

"That's pathetic."

"My bank account would beg to differ. But what'll you have? Shot? Beer?"

"I'll just take a Jack n' Coke."

Cade nods and gives me one of his practiced, award-winning smiles. "Coming right up."

My back is rigid as I wait for my drink. I don't know what's making me more nervous – waiting for a guy to come up and hit on me or wondering if Blake will make another unexpected visit. I can almost feel him coming up behind me, the heat of his chest bumping up against my back and his heady scent overpowering my senses.

I know, I know. It makes me sound gay as hell, but that's just him. His presence begs attention and focus without trying. Add to that his air of genuine confidence, intelligence, and charm...

I mean, let's call a spade a spade. The man is a walking addiction.

Well, to most people. I'd like to think I'm immune to his appeal.

My groin twitches as I become lost in deeper 'Blake' thoughts, and I grimace realizing maybe I'm not as immune to him as I'd like to think I am.

"One Jack n' Coke. On the house."

I laugh humorlessly and start digging into my jean pocket to pull out my wallet. "Now, now, remember what Sir Asshole said about that."

"As someone very wise said to me only minutes ago, 'he's not the boss of me.'"

I slap a ten dollar bill on the table and shake my head. "He'll have no issue coming in here and buying out this bar and firing you in seconds flat. Just take the money."

Cade's smile falters. My words seem to surface his memory of Blake's final warning to him. He flushes and takes the bill off the table, stuffing it into his barista apron.

"So should I expect another movie-like entrance from your boss this evening?"

"Highly doubt it."

I take a sip of my drink, puckering my lips as the richness of the Jack Daniels slides over my taste buds.

"He's out with – " I stop short before calling him 'fagtoid Phil.'

As much as it's a fitting name, I have a feeling using such colorful language in a place like this will do far more unintentional harm than good. I take another sip of my drink and try again through gritted teeth.

"He's out with his boyfriend."

Cade raises is brow. "Boyfriend, huh? That's an unexpected twist."

"Mmph."

"Is it serious?"

"How the hell should I know?"

Cade watches me as I sip my drink. His thoughtful eyes dance over my features, evaluating my state of mind based on my facial expression. I try to keep a straight face, but I can feel a scowl forming. I set my drink down onto the marble. It clatters noisily. The heavy brown liquid sloshes from side to side, an alcoholic ocean churning with the changing tides.

I run a hand through my hair and smooth it down again when I'm done. Cade's gaze never leaves me. He doesn't seem to be too concerned with getting back to his other customers, and the thought of him bypassing potential tips to talk to me is....flattering.

I guess.

"I can't decide if I want to be that man's advocate or not," Cade chuckles under his breath. "He's a real dick."

"Got that right."

I grab my glass again, lifting it into the air in a 'cheers' gesture before gulping it down.

"But it's impossible to deny that he's into you," Cade counters, rubbing at the barely-formed stubble lining his lower jaw. "To put it lightly."

"He's not into me. He has a boyfriend. And I'm not gay."

Cade grabs another mini-can of coke and the bottle of Jack Daniels. He brings them both to my glass, tipping them over to refill my drink. The liquid slips over the ice cubes like an alcoholic waterfall. I hastily grab it up again when it's filled to the top.

"Cheers."

"Better slow down," Cade remarks, tossing the empty can of Coca-Cola into the recycling bin. "I have a feeling if boss man catches you down here sloshed again, it won't end well."

"I told you. He's out with his boyfr-"

My snappy comment is cut short when my phone vibrates in my pocket once. Twice. Then three times. It has a different feel to it than a phone call, so I pull it out with hopeful fingers to see who is texting me.

Blake: Where are you?

Blake: If you are with that bartender again...

Blake: I'm coming to get you. Be ready.

My stomach quivers. He knows I'm here and he doesn't seem too thrilled about it. I wonder what he'd do if he had me alone right now. Would he force me to kiss him again? A tremulous shiver rolls down my spine. Would he punish me by doing...other things?

Sexual things?

I swallow hard, the Jack Daniels still lingering at the base of my throat. The thought of being in a room alone with Blake makes my head spin. Maybe it's the alcohol talking, but the idea of pissing him off so that he'll touch me...is kind of hot.

I quickly text back.

Me: Don't bother. I won't be there.

Blake's response is instantaneous.

Blake: You will remain where you are until I come and get you.

Me: Go fuck your boyfriend and leave me alone.

I glare at my phone and shove it back into my pocket. Cade's eyes are still on me, his smile slipping as he studies my features once again.

"Trouble in paradise?" he asks.

"I need to leave."

"The bar?"

"Yea. I need to go."

"You going back to the hotel or...?"

I grit my teeth, staring down at the few bubbles popping up on the surface of my drink. "I don't have anywhere else to go."

Cade glances around and then lowers his head towards me. "I'm off in ten. If you head to the back, I'll pick you up and we can go somewhere else. We can even go to my place if you want."

I jerk my head away. Is he...does he...is he hitting on me? At first the proposition confuses me, makes me uncomfortable even. But then I remember Blake – Blake and his annoying, fagtoid Phil and a Cheshire grin spreads across my lips.

I can feel my pocket vibrating again, Blake's unread text seeming to burn a hole through my denim jeans. I give Cade a nod of consent.

"Sounds like a plan. I'm in."