Boundaries. Stick to ’em (for now).
“Also, thank you for saving me from that woman. I was about to tell her I had herpes. I don’t!” Blake added quickly when Farrah choked on her spit. Fuck. “It was an excuse. To get her to stop talking to me.”
“So you thought you’d tell her you have herpes?” Her eyes gleamed with amusement and disbelief. “You could’ve just said you didn’t feel like talking.”
Blake frowned. Huh. She has a point.
Justin brought out Farrah’s food and drink. “Let me know if you need anything else,” he drawled. He winked at her and earned himself another glare from Blake.
“She’s fine,” Blake snapped.
“Why don’t you let the lady speak for herself?” A spark of mischief lit up Justin’s eyes before he shifted his attention back to Farrah. “If you need another burger, beer, or someone to show you around town…I’m your guy. I’m Justin, by the way.”
Farrah laughed while Blake’s hands clenched into fists.
“I’m Farrah, and I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, peering up at Justin from beneath her lashes.
Was she flirting with him?
A snarl ripped from Blake’s throat. “She doesn’t like beer, and she’s lived in New York for years. She doesn’t need you ‘showing her around.’”
“I don’t know.” Farrah sounded thoughtful. “You did say I should explore outside downtown more often.” She cocked her head at Justin. “How well do you know uptown?”
A huge grin overtook Justin’s face. “Very well. I can bring you to—”
“Nowhere.” Blake’s gaze drilled into Justin, who looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Don’t you have other customers to tend to?”
“Sure, but none are as beautiful.” Justin winked at Farrah again, causing her to blush. “But I should return to work before I get into any more trouble. With my boss, I mean.”
The Egret’s manager was the chillest dude on the planet and didn’t give two fucks about what his staff did as long as no customers complained.
Justin slid a sly glance in an apoplectic Blake’s direction before refocusing on Farrah. “Holler if you need anything, beautiful.” He sauntered off before Blake could wring his neck.
Farrah smiled at the bartender’s departing back. “He’s so nice.”
“Nice? He’s the biggest manwhore in the five boroughs,” Blake fumed. “Trust me when I say he was not talking about a stroll along the High Line when he offered to ‘show you around.’”
Farrah brushed off his concern. “It was harmless flirting. He’s charming and quite hot. I can see why he’s such a hit with the ladies.” Her gaze followed Justin as he made drinks for a group of older women who blatantly ogled him. “I’m not usually a tattoos girl but he makes them work.”
Blake hadn’t started the night planning murder, but if that was how it had to end, so be it.
“He only got those tattoos to pick up girls,” he growled, even though he wasn’t sure if that was true. “And that’s not the only thing he picked up.”
Sure, insinuating Justin had STDs was petty, but Blake didn’t give a sh
it.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Farrah said, not looking concerned enough for his liking. She bit into her burger, and her eyes widened. “Oh my God. This is incredible.”
“Told you. Best burgers in the city.” Some of Blake’s ire melted at the blissful look on her face. “Try the fries. They put a special house seasoning on them.”
“Mmm. Mmhmm.” Farrah stuffed her mouth full of fries and nodded.
Blake laughed. “In exchange for good food, I think it’s only fair you tell me what happened on your date tonight. It must’ve been bad for you to resort to drinking red wine.”
His best course of action was to redirect Farrah’s attention toward a topic that had nothing to do with tattoos or bartenders. If that topic happened to be a shitty date, even better.
His next best course of action would be to punch Justin in the face, but that was a backup plan in case the other man was dumb enough to flirt with Farrah again.