Free Masquerade by Nyrae Dawn Page A

loud, drunk people still everywhere, dancing, drinking, and looking for someone to take home.
    It’s already getting old spending my nights here.
    Trevor is behind the bar like always. He never takes a night off. It’s different than it is with his brother, who keeps to himself and only wants to get shit done. Trevor likes to be here because he never shuts up, and when he’s at Lunar, there’s always someone for him to talk to. Like when he let Bee in the Back Room. He’s the type who thinks shit like that is funny, seeing how people react.
    The bar’s crowded when we walk up. Trevor and some other bartender I don’t really know are handing out drinks. Bee’s right by my side as we wait. It takes a few minutes before it clears out a little and we step up. Trevor makes his way right over to us.
    “Corona with a lime?” He winks at Bee.
    “Shot of tequila.” She winks right back.
    “You’re breakin’ my heart, darlin’.”
    “Pfft.” I cross my arms. What a fucking idiot.
    They both ignore me, and she has to yell over the music. “What I drink depends on my mood and what my plans are.” I can’t help but wonder what her response means.
    Trevor looks over at me. “Coors?”
    I nod. When I drink, it’s only ever a beer or two.
    Trevor pours her shot first and then hands me my bottle. We both watch as Bee shakes a little salt on her hand, licks it, downs the shot, and then sucks on a lime.
    “Do that often?” I raise an eyebrow at her.
    “Nope.” Leaning back on my barstool, I take a gulp of my beer. Trevor’s standing in front of us and it’s annoying the fuck out of me. “We’ll let you know if we need anything else.”
    He laughs and holds up his hand. “I got you, man. My bad.” And then he walks down the bar.
    “Idiot,” I mumble.
    “He’s got you, huh?” Bee grins.
    Even though I heard her, I lean close anyway. “What?” My mouth’s close to her ear, which puts her close to mine too.
    I repeat what he said. “Just giving you shit, but somehow I think you know that.”
    “No idea what you’re talking about,” I say, even closer to her than I was before, and then I back away.
    Bee rolls her eyes, but I can see the smirk on her face. We sit there quietly for a few minutes, me drinking my beer while she sways her body to the music. Fucking A, this woman is trying to get to me, but I refuse to sleep with her again. It’s not going to happen. I’ve got a good thing going as her apprentice and I don’t want to ruin it. She already shakes me up too much as it is.
    The other bartender heads our way and Bee orders another shot. I watch her take that one, too, watch her swallow, her lips as they close over the lime, wishing like hell I could feel that mouth on other parts of my body.
    “Dance with me, Scratch.” Bee grabs my hand, but I shake my head.
    “I don’t dance. Even if I did, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” My eyes are on her hard, showing her what I mean by that.
    “You’re right. First guy I’ve ever met who thinks with the right head.”
    “I don’t want to. Believe me, I really don’t fucking want to.”
    “That’s my cue to go. I’ll be out there.” She nods toward the dance floor and starts to walk away. I down the rest of my beer as I watch her go.
    “You’re a fucking idiot, Cross.” Trevor grabs my bottle, but I don’t reply.
    Bee rolls her hips, her arms in the air as her body keeps perfect beat with the music. She’s all confidence out there, open and obviously enjoying herself in a way I’ve never seen her. Those walls aren’t up. She’s not hiding behind her veil or sarcasm—just losing herself in the song.
    She’s out there forever, coming up for another shot before heading right back to the dance floor.
    As she’s moving, some guy with a Mohawk slips behind her. My hands fist and my teeth grind together. Bee turns toward him and says something. He laughs, making my anger kick up another notch; then he holds up his hands, like he’s