I scowled at her but shook my head, not sure about that answer myself as I scanned the place too, looking for him and dreading as much as I relished the moment I’d catch sight of his longish dark hair with the corn silk blond highlights. Dios, his hair was amazing. Finger-gripping-while-you-screamed-through-an-orgasm kind of amazing.
“Hey you! Sexy bartender with the scar,” Jodi called, making me cringe as she waved down the second guy behind the counter who wasn’t Mason. “Is Asher working tonight?”
The guy I remembered Asher calling Knox paused to send my roommate a short frown. “That’s classified information, sorry.”
I grinned, amused how protective his coworkers were of him. He must get more female attention than I initially thought.
“But I’m asking for her,” Jodi argued, hooking her thumb my way before she quickly corrected herself. “I mean, him.”
Knox glanced at me. It took him a second before recognition hit, but when his face cleared, he nodded. “Oh, hey. I didn’t see you there.”
“No problem. Jodi, this is Knox, another one of Asher’s coworkers. You were...otherwise occupied when I was introduced to him last night. Knox, this is my roommate, Jodi.”
She stuck out her hand, cooing, “Well, hello there, precious. Hey, have you two”—she hitched her chin toward Mason as he returned with our drinks—“ever considered being in a threesome together, because I would totally volunteer to be the middle woman in your hottie sandwich.”
“Uh...” Mason froze next to an equally motionless Knox as they both stared at Jodi in horror. “We have girlfriends.”
“Oh my God,” Jodi growled, throwing up her hands in defeat. “Is every fucking hot bartender here already taken?”
“Everyone except Asher,” Mason answered, setting our drinks in front of us and waving me to stop when I pulled out my wallet to pay.
Damn, I was just getting the hang of swiping my billfold from my back pocket too. Was no one ever going to charge me anything again?
Cool.
“Where’d he disappear to, anyway?” a voice to my left asked, making me whirl around to find Pick next to me, leaning his arm against the counter as if he’d just arrived.
“Helping someone at the karaoke machine...again,” Mason answered as he cleared away a couple empty mugs left on the bar top.
“Of course,” Pick murmured, glancing that way, while Jodi practically pushed me aside so she could get in his face.
“Oh my fucking God,” she murmured, practically drooling. “I want about five of you. Who the hell are you?”
Pick’s eyebrows lifted in surprise as he took Jodi in, the ring in his eyebrow glittering against the overhead light. “Well, aren’t you the sweetest?” He held out a hand to her. “The name’s Pick.”
She took his hand, but didn’t shake with him and totally didn’t let go of him. “Can I have your babies?”
With a grin, he shook his head and lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles. “Sorry, sweetness. I already have a lady for that. But I do appreciate the offer. Does a man good to hear how much a beautiful woman appreciates his looks.”
“Oh my God,” she whimpered and turned to gape at me. “He just called me beautiful.”
“And he also told you he was taken.” Grasping her shoulders, I manually tugged her backward away from Pick, forcing her to let go of his hand. She whimpered again when she was forced to separate contact with him.
“But...he’s so hot. Just one more touch? A lick? Sniff? Please.”
“Hey, is that Carter Lang?” I asked, noticing someone through the crowd that I’d seen sneak from her bedroom multiple times over the years. Knowing how easily distracted she was, I blew out a relieved breath when she glanced over.
“Holy shit, it is! I’ll be right back.” And she was gone.
Breathing out a breath, I turned to Pick. “I’m so sorry. She...” I had no idea how to describe Jodi. She was sweet and fun as hell, and not at all shy about going after anything she wanted, men included. But...yeah. She could be a handful.
Pick merely chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. I was flattered.”
So I began to turn to the two bartenders behind the counter to apologize in case either of them had been insulted, when Knox surged toward me...or rather, toward Pick.
“Pick, I swear Miller Hart just walked through the front door.”
“What?” Pick turned, scanning the club. “Where?”