Free Fever by Melissa Pearl Page A

way toward it. Climbing up, I let my feet dangle as I scrambled for my phone.
    I was such a chicken.
    I ran my thumb over my phone screen and wondered if I should text Morgan first. If she was only a couple of minutes away then maybe I could hold out. My foot tapped of its own accord as I unlocked my phone. The band had a really awesome sound and I wanted to stay and hear a little more. My thumb hovered over the green Messages button. I glanced to the door, hoping Morgan might appear before I sent her an SOS.
    “Can I get you something?”
    I jerked at the male voice behind me and spun around. “No, thanks, I'm not old enough to dri—” I smiled, a big broad one that strained my lips. It was probably bred more from relief than anything. Cole. A face I knew! I wanted to kiss him. Not because I was attracted to him of course, just because I was relieved. I inwardly cringed at my lie, hoping it wouldn't show through in my smile. “I didn't know you worked here,” I shouted above the music.
    “I know the owners.” His gorgeous eyes danced as he gazed at me.
    “Nice.” I couldn't rip my eyes away from him. He was so incredibly gorgeous. His chiseled jaw. Those high cheekbones...and the little dimple on his chin, which, now that I could see it properly, actually appeared to be a scar. It was sexy. I didn’t know why something that was probably created by an open wound and stitches could be so attractive, but it was. I wanted to run my finger over it and find out the story. I wanted to hear his sheepish chuckle and watch his skin heat as he launched into the details.
    Curling my fingers together, I pressed them into my lap. I didn’t have the right to touch him. That luxury would one day belong to another girl.
    I still couldn't believe he didn't have a girlfriend. I nearly fell off my chair when David had told me.
    “You know, we do serve sodas here.” He winked.
    My nerves began to settle as I took in his friendly expression. It was so obvious he was a good guy, and if I had to spend my night chatting to him, I wouldn't have minded a bit.
    “Right. Of course you do. Can I please have a Sprite with lots of ice?”
    “Coming right up.” I watched him work behind the bar, his movements fluid and confident. He took other orders as he was digging out ice cubes for me, calling out something to the older man at the end of the bar. The man called out something in a thick, Irish accent, raising his hand to acknowledge Cole's comment.
    I strained to hear what was said next, but it was impossible as the band started up another loud number. I couldn't help swaying to the beat just a little.
    Slapping down a cardboard coaster, Cole placed the drink in front of me. “It's on the house.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Of course! Welcome to Quigg's.” He grinned.
    “Thank you.”
    His dancing blue eyes held me captive as he leaned over and pressed his forearms against the bar. I watched his thick muscles ripple and averted my gaze, pulling a quick sip through my straw.
    He leaned toward me with a conspiratorial smile. “You know , I would have served you a drink, if you'd asked.”
    “Well, that is very irresponsible of you.” My teasing tone took me by surprise and I cleared my throat, feeling self-conscious.
    He chuckled. “You really are a good girl, aren't you?”
    “Is that bad?” My nose wrinkled. I hated the way it did that.
    He paused, his blue gaze softening. “No, it's actually...” he looked down with a grin and swallowed before glancing up at me again. “Refreshing.”
    I smiled and raised my glass, taking another sip. The man behind Cole's shoulder called his attention, and he was dragged away from me. I stayed where I was, sipping my soda and watching Cole work. His friendly smile was endearing, and I loved the way he looked people in the eye as he spoke to them. I saw a few flirty gestures thrown his way, but he didn't seem fazed by any of them. He kept glancing over at me, giving me a reassuring smile that