Free Three's a Charm by Sydney Michkal Page A

closer look at the laughing one under the better light and decides that, okay, fine, maybe one of them is old enough to actually be in here . That doesn’t say anything about the rest of them, but he can stay off of her shit list for the time being.   He has dark hair and surprisingly fair, almost pearlescent skin, with blue eyes that stand out even from this distance.  Katie watches as he sets an overturned chair upright ag ain and puts his buddy into before whispering against his ear.  She can't be sure, but it looks like a plea not to cause any more chaos.  Then the laughing one heads over to her.  Katie does the bartender smile automatically, because it’s not crowded tonight, Ryan on the stage or not, and she has no excuse not to. Being in a bad mood doesn't count as an excuse .
    “Um, sorry,” the guy says as he leans his elbows up on the bar. He’s only slightly less drunk than the rest of his friends, Katie can tell at a glance, but he seems aware of that fact and is choosing every one of his gestures with the exaggerated care of the deeply intoxicated. “He doesn’t make a habit of knocking girls over .”
    “Floor’s seen worse,” Katie answers with a shrug.  Those eyes.  So very blue.  She feels color rising in her cheeks in spite of herself, and focuses on drawing beer.  “What can I get you?” Ryan on the stage stutters on one of the only bad notes that she’s ever heard him produce; Katie looks up and her customer turns to see as one movement. Ryan ’s shoulders are shaking, though he keeps on singing like nothing had happened at all. Oh, fucking hell, he saw exactly what happened out on the floor, too, and he’s doing his best not to crack up right there on stage over it. The members of his band that Katie kinda-sorta knows have told her that that’s just one of his things, that his humor has one of the most inappropriate senses of timing of anyone that she’ll ever meet.
    Her customer looks back at Ryan for just a little bit too long .  Katie starts to get a tingling sense about him, until he turns back and flips it all on its head with the way that he looks at her, too . His eyes are dilated, just slightl y. It makes them even bluer.  Katie shifts her weight from one foot to the other, unsure of what she's seeing .
    “Pitcher of beer and four glasses,” the guy says, finally managing to pull his eyes away from Ryan . He flashes her a grin, a little sh eepish and very self-aware.  Katie decides to give him this: he’s not immediately devastating in the way that Ryan is, but the whole package has something to be said for it. “We’re winding down.”
    “ That's probably wise ,” Katie says solemnly. Her mouth twitches.  She turns back to her job before Blue Eyes sees.
     
    *
     
    Here’s the thing: somehow, people think that Katie i s pretty. She's not entirely sure how.  Her upper arms do this wiggly thing and her hips took about three years to get used to once she hit puberty . But she has long dark hair to the middle of her back and large hazel eyes, and it's a rare night when half-a-dozen customers don’t try to buy her drinks. Katie can’t always find a way to creatively spit them out without losing her tip.   Between Ryan and Blue Eyes, it has to be said, she feels off-center all night, eager to steady the ground under her feet again through flirting and smiling . So when the bar finally closes down and she gets her shit together, towards dawn, Katie doesn’t think that it’s a good idea to drive. Or walk, maybe. Those fucking hips she has, she swears that the next person who cheerfully tells her that childbirth will be a breeze will get a bar glass to the face.  She closed down her register before she got really messed up, and it's not as though Billy doesn't know enough about the Paul thing, but she can still count on him getting fatherly the next time she shows her face.
    Speaking of the Paul thing.  Katie toys with calling him and then puts her phone back