Page 29 of On His Knees
I cast him a look, and he gives me a wink, letting me know my secret is safe with him. One of the girls leads me to the counter to pay, and I make sure to give Luigi an extra big tip.
I hurry back outside, the wind cooler on my ears with my hair cut. I glance around, and take in all the festivities. Honestly, I’ve been working so hard lately, setting up my practice, I forgot what fun was anymore. I miss coming here. Hell, I miss having fun. Granddad told me that on numerous occasions. He worked hard, but he played hard, too. But I work hard because I want him to be proud of me, want to make something of myself, on my own merit. Seriously though, how many times has he told me I need to find myself a nice girl? I scoff. I would if I could, but there just aren’t any out there that I trust.
Summer is a nice girl.
Jesus Christ, Tate, get your head on right. You don’t really know her at all.
I pull open the door to the bar, and there is already a lineup for the kissing booth. Goddammit, do I really have to do this? Then again, the money raised from the kissing booth goes to help the local children’s hospital.
I peel off my jacket and wave to Henry to let him know I’m here. I find Luca in the back room, taking a break.
“Can you believe we’re being guilt-tripped into doing this kissing booth?” I ask, looking over at my new friend. There is something about him that reminds me of me. Is he, too, playing a part, disguising himself as something he’s not? If so, why?
“All for a good cause.”
“Where in Italy are you from?” I ask.
He looks down, grief ripping through his face before he scrubs his jaw and says, “Massara.”
“What brings you here?”
He grins. “The great weather.”
I laugh. Okay, so he’s not going to tell me. “Yeah, same here,” I say.
I head back to the bar and take my first order. I twist a cap off a beer and slide it across the counter, then take the guy’s money. I turn my attention to the next customer, hoping Henry will forget all about the kissing booth, but no such luck. He taps me on the shoulder, and he grins at me, like he’s enjoying this way too much. But it’s the least I can do for him, right? He’s helping me out, and I should be helping him out in return.
“Nice cut,” he says, a little breathless, his skin paler than it was earlier. He jerks his chin up. “Now go. You got an hour shift.”
“What about you?”
“Hell no. No one wants to kiss an old coot like me, and besides the wife would kill me. Now go.”
“Shit,” I mumble under my breath, and untie my bar apron. I slap it on the counter and head across the room. A familiar scent wraps around me and I turn to find Summer sneaking up behind me.
I grin at her and I don’t want to think too much about how happy I am to see her. “Were you going to lift me up, spin me around?”
Her eyes go wide when she sees my haircut. “Tate, what did you do?” she asks.
I rake my hand through my short hair, scrub my palm over it. “Not good?”
“No, it’s perfect. I actually really like your hair like this.”
“It’s usually how I wear it, just got busy.”
She goes up on her toes and runs her fingers over my head. “A little less for me to grab on to, but I’ll make do,” she teases.
“Fuck, Summer. You can’t say things like that to me. Well, you can, just not when I can’t get you naked,” I finish quietly. She laughs and I get how much she loves it when I unleash on her. “I have to work the booth.”
She crinkles her cute little nose and I resist the urge to kiss her. “No way.”
“Yeah, no choice.” I point to the others behind the bar, as Henry starts organizing the event. “We’re all taking a turn.”
Something flashes in her eyes but it’s gone before I can identify it. She looks away, studies the string of women gearing up for their turn to kiss me as Henry herds them into a straight line “Such a hardship to kiss all those pretty girls,” she says, her voice low, soft, and I can’t tell whether she’s teasing or not.
I cup her chin. “The only pretty girl I want to kiss is you, and I’m going to prove that to you tonight, over and over.”
She laughs and puts her hand on my chest and from my peripheral vision, I catch the way Jaquelin is glaring at Summer. I don’t like it. Not one little bit.