I reached out and grabbed a passing waiter. He wore a white shirt with a slim, light gray vest that highlighted his trim waist and defined backside.
Looking up at him, I couldn’t help but marvel, “No wonder Zevian likes coming to this bar; even the waiters are stunning.”
The guy had stunning eyes, a high nose bridge and long, slender phoenix eyes that gave him an intense look. The most captivating feature was a small tear-shaped mole beneath one of his eyes.
I smiled at him and said, “Care to have a drink with me? I’ll cover the cost of all the alcohol you open.”
At bars, waiters earn a commission from the alcohol they serve. His eyes widened in surprise and only then did I notice how young he looked, as if he had just reached adulthood.
I felt somewhat guilty and was about to apologize, but he smiled as he uttered, “Sure! What would you like to drink?”
He slid into the booth effortlessly and nudged me into the corner. “How about a Tequila Sunrise?”
I wrinkled my nose. “A fifteen-degree drink? That’s for kids.”
Later, eyes shifted to Zevian, who was sipping a Coastal Brew. Before I could comment, he chuckled and said, “But I like this one. Maybe, let’s just get this, okay?”
His voice had a playful tone; it was my first time encountering someone like him. I found myself dazed.
As soon as I returned to reality, he had already ordered the drink and was grinning at me, saying, “I’m Draxon Rainford.”
Seeing his bright smile, I instantly regretted involving him. I was about to say something to send him on his way when laughter erupted from the next table.
“Whoa! Zevian! Zevian!” The cheers were deafening.
Curious, I turned to see what was happening and was taken aback by the scene.
Zevian had his hand resting on the back of a girl’s head and they were kissing openly as if oblivious to the crowd around them.
I clenched my fists, staring intently at the couple. From this angle, I could see Zevian’s face growing more intense as he lost himself in the kiss.
Suddenly, something touched my hand. I looked over to see Draxon gently prying my fingers open. I hadn’t noticed before, but my nails had dug into my skin, leaving several bloody marks.
“Don’t grip so hard,” he said softly, “Your hand is bleeding.”
“Hey,” Draxon hesitated, then asked, “Do you know the people at the next table?”
I curled my lips and replied, “Yes, I do.”