My Mind's Eye (Pub Fiction #1) Read online

  Despite my earlier hopes of fucking her later tonight, I think it’s safe to say that idea is a bust. There’s no way my plan to convince that hot piece of ass to come home with me is going to work, especially after that shitshow in the hallway. Unhappily, I resign myself to the idea, accepting I won’t be burying myself deep inside her tonight, which is too fucking bad, ’cause, man, she is smokin’.

  This might actually turn out to be a good thing. I need to listen to Levi and not shit where I sleep, as they say. Just like I wouldn’t screw Sarah, she’s too close to home. The last thing I want to do is fuck shit up for him with his staff.

  Damn

  I shake off my disappointment; it’s actually not such a big deal. It’s Friday night, and there will be plenty of other chicks to choose from. I’m still confident I’ll find the perfect honey to sink balls deep into tonight.

  Noticing the time, I quickly grab a clean uniform shirt from my locker; thankfully, I have a few extras. It seems I’m always spilling shit on myself when I stock this place and today is no different. Of course, the last case of beer I brought up from the storeroom had a broken bottle; shit leaked all over the front of me. Levi loses it if our uniforms aren’t clean. He’s made sure we all have a few extra shirts onsite. It’s a simple black t-shirt with the Pub Fiction logo across the front. It hugs my arms just enough to showcase I work hard on them. I workout at least four times a week and make sure to eat properly. Being in sports medicine has taught me to take care of my body. It’s a machine that has needs, just like my dick. An added bonus is that chicks seem to dig my muscular arms. I have no problem with showing them off and choose to wear a snugger fitting shirt.

  Shit. Thinking of my shirt makes me think of hot girl and also how I need to thank Levi again for the girls’ sexy shirts. Fuck me, does she ever have a stacked rack, which was seriously on display in her tight top, taunting me, just begging for my hands…my mouth.

  I am so fucked. I make my way out of the staff room to the bar for the meet-and-greet.

  Chapter 7

  Kat

  After the meet-and-greet, I’m so relieved to learn I’m not being paired up with Ryker for the training portion. Ryker, I’ve come to learn, is the mystery man’s name. It turns out, he’s Levi’s brother, and will be overseeing our training, plus helping out behind the bar when needed. Thank goodness Ryker and I won’t have too many interactions by the looks of things. I think that would have been way too awkward. I can’t believe the way I spoke to him; he’s practically one of my bosses. But come on, who doesn’t acknowledge a person when they are speaking directly to them? Jerks, that’s who. Total jerks. And I thought I’d only have to worry about warming up to Naomi and Brooke. Stupid me. Apparently, Ryker might be an issue for me. Too bad, though, because he sure is nice to look at. Why does it seem the hot ones are always the assholes?

  “Hey, Kat, I’m Luke. I’ll be your trainer extraordinaire this evening,” a super cute bartender says, sliding up to me as I reach the bar, holding out his hand. Luke is definitely a cutie. He isn’t overly tall, but he has the strong build of a rugby player, complete with broad shoulders and very large hands. His sandy brown hair is a bit longer and spiked on top, while short and trim everywhere else. He has vibrant blue eyes, a sexy line of stubble gracing his jawline, along with a shit-eating grin to complete his player status. He really is a good-looking man. I’ve heard from a few girls who know him from school that he is very sweet, but a total flirt. According to the rumors, Claire has shared with me from a few of the girls, he and Ryker play the same game of love ’em and leave ’em. I can see Luke giving me a onceover as we shake hands. I offer a sheepish smile because I basically did the same to him.

  “Hi, nice to meet you, too. I’m glad to be working with you. I don’t have a ton of bar experience, as I’m sure Levi has told you, but I am a quick learner, so I’ll be the perfect student,” I tell him, hopefully convincingly, despite my nerves.

  He grins at me. “Well, lucky for you, you’ve been paired with the best teacher in the joint. Don’t you fear, lovely, you’re in good hands. Really good hands.” I look at him skeptically, and he lets out a deep belly laugh. “Oh, Kat! We’re gonna get along great. I didn’t mean those kinds of hands, though. Sure, you’re beautiful—stunning really—but something tells me you and I are better off as friends. I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun together. I love a girl with a sense of humor, who can take my innuendoes in stride.” He continues to laugh and I can’t help but join him.

  His cheerful manner and flirty, fun demeanor has me feeling instantly at ease. It’s clear he’s completely harmless.

  “Now, come on. Let me show you how we run things here,” he says, while leading me to the storage room. “I need to stock the bar a bit more, so I figure we’ll tackle that first.”

  We quickly fall into a relaxed banter while I learn the ropes. Luke is very easygoing and funny; it’s understandable why women would be drawn to him. Not only is he easy on the eyes, but he can also be completely charming. Good thing we’ve got zero attraction to one another, so I won’t need to worry about things being awkward. It’s clear he was right in his assessment; we’ll have a great time working together.

  As he’s showing me how to stock the bottles on the shelves, he cautions, “Now make sure you always use the stepladder when stocking the higher shelves, not only for Health and Safety Regulations, but also for your overall safety. And please do not ever use a barstool to reach the high shelved bottles; ask one of us or, again, use the stepladder. The last thing we need is for you to get hurt.”

  “Stepladder, got it.” I nod.

  “Why don’t you shelve these last bottles on that top shelf and I’ll spot you. That way, I’m close by for your first time.” He smirks, knowing I catch his entendre.

  I laugh. “Oh, God, Luke, it’s going to be a long night, isn’t it?”

  “What?” he says, feigning innocence. “I’m just being helpful.”

  “Sure, sure. If that’s what they call it these days. Now hand me that bottle and get outta my way.”

  “I gotta tell you again, Kat, I’m pretty happy we’ve been partnered up.”

  “Well thanks, Luke. You’re okay, too, so far, I guess.” I snicker and he rolls his eyes.

  While I’m perched on the stepladder, Luke is below me, handing me the bottles of wine, vodka, and rye to shelve along the overhead shelving unit. I’m feeling pretty confident and I’m pleased that I haven’t faltered in my footing much since I’ve never done anything like this before. It’s only about eight rungs high, but when you’re not used to balancing your weight while having your hands full, it can really be a bit daunting. Yeah, I’m feeling pretty happy.

  Well, that is, until he hands me the last bottle.

  Perched high on the ladder, I have the top shelves fully-stacked with premium liquors, like Patron and Hennessy, and the generic brands perfectly set, except for one empty spot far to my left. “Awesome job, Kat, you got them all to fit in perfectly. It’s kind of like a puzzle sometimes, but you’re a pro.” At his compliment, I can’t help but beam.

  “Thanks, it wasn’t as scary up here as I thought. I was kind of nervous I’d fall or break something.”

  “Nah, piece of cake, now one more set and we’re done. We’ve just got the bottles of Bailey’s and we can take a break.”

  Luke passes me the last bottle of Bailey’s, and I stretch over, trying to fit it neatly in the gap. I should have just stepped down and moved the ladder, but thinking that would only waste time, instead I press my tiptoes harder into the ladder rung to make the most of my 5’6” height and decide to make a reach for it. Luke doesn’t say anything, I assume this move will work.

  Judging from the cool breeze suddenly hitting my mid-back, this graceful move has obviously caused my shirt to ride up much more than I would like. But with my hands occupied, I’m forced to ignore it for the time being.

  As I start to slide the bottle into place, I sense someone other th
an Luke watching me. I know it’s not Luke because I’ve felt this kind of stare before; it does things to me. I feel holes being bored into my back. I know without a doubt it’s Ryker.

  My skin comes alive, making me all too aware of him and how ridiculous I must look up on a ladder in this awkward pose, grunting, shirt hitching up, my ass sticking out of my shorts, I’m sure, trying not to fall off while doing a simple job. I become unnerved and feel my ballet slipper skid roughly through the ladder and lose my footing, which causes me to tumble off the stepladder.

  “Shit,” I yell as I fall and, of course, meet Ryker’s eyes on my way down. As I fall, so does the last bottle of Bailey’s. Dammit.

  Luckily, I land safely in the arms of Luke, who laughs at me. Unluckily for the bottle, however, it wobbled out of my fingers and hits the floor with an explosive smash, leaving the smell of the sweet liquor infusing my senses as it spreads all over the bar floor.

  “Jesus, Kat, I know I checked you out before, but that isn’t a reason to throw yourself at me. You want me, baby, you got me!” He laughs that deep belly laugh of his.

  I find myself giggling nervously before apologizing, hoping I haven’t injured him. “You didn’t hurt me, girl, but, please, next time, move the goddamned ladder. Not that I didn’t enjoy the show, but we’re not really that kind of place.” He winks at me and I slap his arm, while laughing harder, in spite of myself. “Now let’s get this cleaned up. I’ll go grab the broom and shit.” He gestures toward the opposite end of the bar before tossing me a rag.

  The next thing I know, Ryker is standing in front of us, but on the opposite side of the bar. He’s snarling.

  “Luke,” he seethes, then repeats it, “Luke, we don’t pay you to flirt with the help, especially ones who seem to need all the help they can get. Just train ’em. Make sure she doesn’t get hurt and she’s trained properly. I don’t have time for another useless staff member. Quit fucking around and get back to it, eh?” His eyes shoot daggers at me. Then he stalks off, shoulders tight, jaw rigid.

  I stand, stunned, but also kind of turned on by Ryker’s forthrightness. What the hell is wrong with me? Did he just refer to me as useless? What a dick!

  “Good thing you’ll be working on my shift instead of his, eh, Kat?” Luke says as I sweep up the glass, my face hot and, no doubt, red. “Don’t bother yourself about Ryk. He’s a moody fucker, but his bark is bigger than his bite. Guy probably just needs to get his dick wet.”

  “That is disgusting, Luke, and waaay too much info,” I say, giving him a dirty look.

  He just laughs and says, “It’s true, though!”

  Luke continues to train me and we don’t see or hear from Ryker for the rest of the shift.

  Thank God Ryker and I have ended up scheduled on opposite shifts after this awkward start to my training. There is no way in hell I would work with that ass. The moment he came over and basically gave Luke shit and made the useless comment, I was more than convinced that although he might be the hottest man I’ve ever seen, Ryker Eddison is an asshole!

  Chapter 8

  Kat

  September

  Classes have begun and I cannot tell you how much I love life now that I’m in my final year. My course load is pretty heavy, but still leaves me enough time to work and have a bit of a social life when I choose. I managed to schedule my classes I only have one evening course, and it isn’t bad because it’s over at 7 p.m. I’m getting along with all my roommates, eventhough Amanda can be a bit of a slob sometimes. I’m also working on having a bit more excitement in life. I haven’t gone on any dates or anything, much to Claire’s dismay, but I have let the girls drag me to a few frat parties. Where I actually had fun!

  This time next year, I will, hopefully, be teaching in an elementary school. I’d absolutely love to teach in a primary classroom; my preference is to teach either second or third grade. I think this is the perfect age group, still needy but with enough independence to make for a great teaching and learning environment.

  I’m so very grateful my mom convinced me to take the four-year Concurrent Education Program that Brock offers. By the end of this year, I will be completely done with both my undergrad degree and teachers college, saving me almost an extra year of schooling. Thank God! I’m so ready for the real world and no more school.

  Claire and I have always talked about working at the same school and living within walking distance of each other. I now know that’s not quite as realistic as we dreamed it would be when we were sixteen, but, hey, I know we’ll always be friends and see each other as much as possible.

  As for work, it’s been great. Other than my first day run-ins with that Ryker guy, I haven’t seen much of him at all. However, I do have to admit, he and his honeybutter eyes have definitely crossed through my mind more than a few times.

  Since I have some time before my next class, I pop into Pub Fiction to pick up my work schedule as well as Claire’s. Pulling up, I notice a souped-up truck that is the only vehicle in the lot. That doesn’t seem like the kind of ride I pegged Levi to own.

  The club’s doors are unlocked. Since it’s only three o’clock, I wasn’t sure he’d be here; I’m not too sure of his schedule yet. But I know he posts our hours every Sunday for the upcoming two weeks.

  I walk into the open bar area, but then stopping when I hear the sounds of two male voices. They sound like they’re having a lot of fun. Curious, I step closer in the direction where the voices are coming from. I end up stopping in my tracks in order to take in the scene in front of me.

  “Awesome, Jacob, you did it,” I hear a vaguely familiar, gruff voice boom with excitement. But it isn’t until I get closer that I see who Ryker is talking to. He’s sitting in one of the booths with a young boy, who looks to be about twelve, giving him a high-five. He has a genuine look of pride on his face, and I can see what looks to be math homework spread out on the table.

  “It’s all because of you, Ryk. I never would have gotten that equation right if it wasn’t for your help. I’m glad my mom convinced me to ask you to help me.” Oh my God, Ryker as a tutor, a mentor? How sweet is that?

  “No way, Jacob. That, my friend, was all you. It’s been all your hard work over the last few weeks. I have no doubt you’ll ace that test next week.” The little boy’s smile is huge; I can’t help but stand there to eavesdrop for a bit longer.

  “How about I grab us some ice cream to celebrate?”

  “Yes! I’d like that, but my mom will be here soon. We better hurry up. She’ll be pissed if I ruin my dinner.”

  “Language, Jacob, not cool,” Ryker warns and I hide a giggle at the pot calling the kettle black on that one.

  Jacob raises his hands in mock defeat. “Oh right, coming from Mr. Holier-than-thou,” Jacob taunts back. I stifle another giggle at his witty comment.

  “Let’s go, you little pain, before I change my mind and move on to fractions,” Ryker says, scruffing Jacob’s hair as they head toward the kitchen.

  I can’t help but smile at how cute they are, at how cute it is to see Ryker in this light. Who would have thought a guy like Ryker would be patient enough to tutor? From what I’ve seen so far, he kind of comes across as a hothead. Maybe there’s some depth to him after all. Not wanting to be seen, I move quickly down the hall ducking into the staff room.

  ***

  As I round the corner, coming from Levi’s office with our schedules in my purse, I text Brooke about a possible shift change. I’m right in the middle of hitting the send button when the next thing I know—BAM!—I’m on my ass and my cell phone is skidding across the hardwood toward the bar.

  “Dammit!” I shout, sitting there stunned for a few moments before getting my bearings. As I right myself, I look up because I hear a familiar growl. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

  Standing in front of me with a scowl, and again this fucking growling sound, is none other than Ryker Eddison with a dented container of ice cream at his feet.

  I am so annoyed a
t this point; it doesn’t matter if it may have, in fact, been my fault for not watching where I was going. Again, why I don’t love cell phones.

  “Um, well…I hear sorry is popular,” I tell him with a glare. He gives me nothing, just stares back at me, but it’s intense and I feel it deep within my bones. “Er, you know, like, usually when two people collide, the brute force apologizes…” Still nothing. “That would be you here, Ryker. You are the brute who took me out. You should say,”—I air quote—“‘Sorry, Kat, are you all right?’”

  Again, not a sound.

  “Are you familiar with the concept?” I ask, annoyed.

  Radio silence.

  I wait for his response, a reaction, but he continues to stare at me with what appears to be a hint of a smirk forming in the corner of his lips. Jesus, he’s pretty, though.

  I take a better look at the entity standing intimately close to me now, causing my pulse to race. He really is one mountain-o’-hotness. Too bad he’s an ass. Well, to me, anyway.

  “You can’t talk to me? What, I’m so ‘useless’ to you that you don’t want to waste your words on me? Fine.” I start to move around him, but the next thing I know, I’m pressed flat against him, chest-to-chest, nose-to-chin. His hands are gripping my waist, pushing me against his rock hard body. His hard-on pushing into me.

  “Not sorry, not fuckin’ close to being sorry,” he growls in a deep baritone voice that has me clenching my legs from its intensity as the impact of his words vibrate into my neck. He keeps us still for a few moments as he breathes me in deep. “I like you close like this, I am not sorry,” he says, before laying a kiss to the side of my lobe, tracing his lips down to the juncture of my neck. He releases his hold on me and walks away without another peep. Fuck me.