Free Shaken Not Stirred (Mixology) by Alyssa Rose Ivy Page A

Brody laughed.
    “I don’t think I’m a bad kisser. I figured
the kiss didn’t do it for him.”
    “So what are your big plans tomorrow night?”
Macon reached over and filled his empty glass with water. I hated
when he did things like that. Why couldn’t he ask like a normal
person?
    “I don’t have any.” Not yet at least. Seeing
Colin gave me new determination to find another date.
    “Ohhhh,” Macon said. “Don’t let him catch you
in that one.”
    “I’ll find plans.” I felt pretty confident.
Usually when I wanted to get attention, I found it. The problem
was, it wasn’t always the right kind.
    Macon took off as soon as Brody got back to
work, and I was left at a nearly empty bar. I talked to Mary for a
while before she left when she got a new table in her section. The
kitchen was getting ready to close, but Max was pretty lenient when
it came to late-night diners.
    I studied the new diner, who was eating
alone. He was good looking, probably in his late twenties, and
every time I looked over, he was looking at me. Why was a guy like
that eating alone? There had to be a story there. If someone came
in alone, they almost always came right to the bar. This guy seemed
perfectly content and confident to sit by himself at a table.
    A group of guys came in and sat down at the
bar, distracting me from the lone diner.
    “Hey, can I get you guys something?” As much
as I wasn’t looking forward to dealing with customers, they fit the
demographic that generally tipped me well.
    “Yeah. We’ll take a round of jager
shots.”
    “Sure.” I took out six shot glasses and
poured the shots. I wasn’t a shot person, but I understand the
draw. Quick, easy, and potent. There was also a social aspect to
shots that appealed to most people on some level.
    I placed a shot down in front of each guy and
turned my attention back to the lone diner.
    “Can we get another round?” one of the guys
asked.
    “Sure.” I poured them again.
    “What’s your name?” The guy directly in front
of me asked.
    “Maddy.”
    “That’s a pretty name.”
    “Thanks.” I was always more comfortable
talking to guys my own age, for better or worse.
    “Cool. Cool. I’m Davis.” He held out his
hand.
    “Hi.” I accepted the handshake. I’d play
along if the conversation stayed clean.
    “Have you worked here long?” He slid his
empty shot glass around on the bar top.
    “Just since May.”
    “Oh cool. We go to NC State, but we’re in
town for Gary’s bachelor party.” He gestured to a guy with auburn
hair sitting a few stools down.
    “Oh. Nice.”
    “When do you get off?”
    I held back a groan. Did he think I was going
to hook up with him? “Later.”
    He laughed, as though I’d said the funniest
joke. “No, really. I’d love to hang out. You’re pretty.”
    “Does that usually work for you?” There was
something about being behind the bar that made me better at turning
down male advances. It’s like I had an alter ego—sexy and badass
Maddy.
    “I don’t know. I’ve never used it
before.”
    Davis now had a few of his buddies’
attention, and I knew it was about to get worse. “It’s not working.
You guys want another round?”
    “Do you come with it?” the supposed
groom-to-be asked.
    “You couldn’t handle me if I did.” I was on a
roll.
    “Oh yeah? You really think that?”
    “Yes.” I crossed my arms. Macon would be
dying if he’d been there to listen.
    “Care to let me prove you wrong?” He leaned
forward slightly.
    “Aren’t you engaged?”
    He looked down the row at his friends,
probably trying to figure out who ratted him out. Finally, he
smirked. “She’s not here.”
    “Ugh.” I walked to the other side of the bar.
I shouldn’t have started in with these guys. Their tip would
hopefully make it worth it. I looked back at Mary’s section, but
the diner was gone.
    “Do you think I could handle you?” There he
was, the solo diner, standing in front of me. I may have
miscalculated his