but my mind was a blank.
Marvin saw me as I came back into the kitchen and shook his head. “Clean yourself up, Powers. Christ.”
I took a stack of napkins and wiped most of the crud off my shirt and face and hands, before getting a new large vanilla shake and bringing it back to the table.
I was nervous as I approached him once again.
And looking at the green-eyed frat boy, I realized he was more handsome than I’d initially given him credit for.
He was like a GQ model come to life, all buff under his leather jacket, and he had that crew cut look that I’d always found sexy.
But I quickly reminded myself that he was just another cocky frat boy and I was beyond tired of dealing with guys like him. All the rich kids went to Bradley University and they all drove Porsches and BMWs that their parents had bought them.
“A new milkshake,” I said, not smiling as I handed it to him.
“I hope you didn’t put something in it,” he said, sniffing as if I’d poisoned it.
“I didn’t, but that’s because I’m not low-class like some people. And I’m not rude, either.”
Even his friends had fallen silent now, as their heads turned back and forth, like they were watching a tennis match.
His lips twitched into a smile and he lifted the milkshake as if in a salute. Then he took a long gulp.
I couldn’t help but admire his neck as he swallowed. His skin was smooth and perfect, his jaw chiseled.
Girls must fall all over him everywhere he goes.
“Best vanilla milkshake I ever tasted,” he said, licking his red lips. “Worth the wait.”
Something about his words made my skin break into gooseflesh.
Worth the wait.
Was it my imagination or did there seem to be a lot more to that sentence than he let on?
Is he flirting with me or insulting me?
Or is it just fun for him to come into a dingy, greasy burger joint and mess with the poor, pathetic girl with the stained trousers and the damp, frizzy hair—show his buddies how easy it would be to…
To what?
To fuck you?
To cum all over your face and tits like he’d been insinuating when you got that vanilla milkshake all over yourself?
“Well,” I said, blinking and shaking my head, feeling my cheeks flush. “I should get back to work.”
I turned and walked away, very aware suddenly of my hips swinging, feeling his eyes on me, knowing he would be looking and even worse— wanting him to be looking.
He’s bad news.
I knew it was true, but somehow I couldn’t help enjoying the thrill, if only for a moment. And not even quite understanding the emotions I was feeling.
The guy had been a total egocentric jerk, plain and simple.
When I got behind the counter once more, another huge rush hit and I was running around crazier than ever. But even so, every free second I had, I would try to find an excuse to look over at the table where the green-eyed frat boy had been sitting with his friends.
A few times I looked and they were all still there, talking and laughing.
It was obvious, somehow, that he was the leader. They all looked up to him.
Maybe he’s not just any old frat boy, maybe he’s the president of the fraternity or something.
One time, I glanced over as I was bringing a tray of food over to the counter and he actually turned and looked back at me.
Our eyes locked from a distance and I felt my entire body lock up.
Worse yet, I felt my nipples tighten again, poking through my bra and the shabby material of my restaurant uniform.
Fuck. He is hot, isn’t he?
It was easier to admit it from a distance, somehow.
And then Green Eyes looked back at his buddies, said something else and they all broke up into raucous laughter.
I felt my cheeks flush yet again.
I turned away and resolved not to look back at that table again. He’d just made fun of me to his friends, I was certain of it.
Probably said something about how that milkshake had looked on your face, and how easy it would have been to bring you home and do it for real. Except he would