I furrowed my brow. “The head?”
Max winked at me. “Hungry?”
“What does she mean?”
“Do you want food, Dani?”
He said my name, but it was a bit sharp. Curt. And the look behind his eyes told me to stop what I was doing. I wasn’t sure why he wouldn’t answer my question, but I had a feeling it had something to do with this bar. How everyone treated him. How he seemed like the big man on campus.
What aren’t you telling me? “Uh, I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
He grinned. “Sure about that?”
I shrugged. “What else is there?”
The woman clicked her tongue. “We got burgers, spicy wings, chicken sandwiches, and hot dogs. Anything trip your trigger?”
“Oh, a hot dog sounds nice.”
“Great. Anything on it?”
A man walked up to us. “You should get one with what you want, then get one with everything. Trust me, it won’t disappoint.”
My eyes panned over to the gruff-looking man that had come to stand beside the waitress. He slapped her butt and she squealed, then swatted at his chest playfully, as if it hadn’t offended her at all. My eyes widened as Max chuckled. The man wore a faded leather jacket with patches on every joint I could see. He had tattoos creeping up the side of his neck, trying to intrude upon his jawline. He had a scar clear across his left eye, almost slicing it in half. And the dastardly grin he had on his face made my toes curl.
Not in a good way, either.
“Oh-okay, then. One hot dog with ketchup, mustard, and chili, and one with everything.”
The waitress scribbled it down. “Fries? Onion rings?”
The man put his hand on my shoulder. “Always do the onion rings here.”
Max growled. “Off. Now.”
The man jerked his hand away as if he’d touched a hot stove, and my eyes widened even further. I had no idea what in the world I had just stepped into, and I didn’t know how to feel about it. I mean, I was used to house parties my mother threw and holiday parties in banquet halls my father hosted for our families. Decorated cakes and champagne flutes and impeccably bright colors on the walls. This place was so far from my reality. So far from what I had been raised in.
I couldn’t stop myself from staring at it all.
“Oh! And just to let you two know, we got dessert now. A nice slice of chocolate cake with ice cream. Let me know if you want some.”
The waitress’s voice ripped me from my trance. “I will, thank you.”
Max nodded. “That’ll be all. You too, Granger.”
The gruff man harrumphed
to himself before walking away, but not before slapping the waitress on her tuckus again. I shook my head slowly as men came and went in my view. Tall men. Short men. Fat men and muscular men. Men with tattoos running up and down their arms. Men with tattoos on their faces. Men with chains dangling from their jeans and leather jackets of all shapes, colors, and shines.
And the women.
The women were mesmerizing.
There was another waitress walking around, but she was dressed completely differently. She had on baggy black jeans with a chain slid through the belt loops, barely holding them up on her hips while her tight top fell off her shoulder. Almost as if she had cut the neck open herself. Her exposed shoulder was covered in a brightly colored geometric tattoo that disappeared underneath her shirt. And when she turned to look at me, the scar on her chin caught my eye.
“Her ex,” Max said.
I whipped my head around to face him. “What?”