“You get used to it,” Kristi said offhandedly a couple hours into the shift, and I turned my head to see who she was talking to. She was staring right at me.
“The drinks?” I asked, my eyebrows rising in question. “I figured. I’m not too worried about it.”
She laughed softly. “Not the drinks. I don’t doubt you’ll get the hang of them by the end of this week. I mean the guys.” Nodding in the direction of the sweaty, muscled men in question, she sent me a wry look. “After a while you don’t even notice they’re there anymore.”
“Somehow I doubt that. You grew up with this, so it’s easier for you. Us? Not so much.”
With another laugh, Kristi pushed away from the counter and began walking out of the drink section. “My mom just brought in lunch for Dad. I’m gonna see if I can go steal any of it from him. Call into his office if anything happens.”
I nodded and turned back to find Kira doing her best to not look at two guys fighting in the ring off to one side of the gym, and failing. Just before I could try to ask her what she thought of the job, the location and . . . uh . . . scenery, and Kristi—who was our age and had just graduated college as well—someone cleared their throat.
I turned to take the order, and—oh, Jesus Christ. There was no way I would ever get used to all these guys. This easily topped a houseful of frat boys, and groups of more of the same at the beach. Everyone here was toned, a lot had shirts off or tight-fitting wife beaters, and a good portion were too perfect looking for their own good. Heaven. My new job was heaven.
Twenty minutes later I was in the middle of making a drink while Kira was beginning to take the latest customer’s order, and the first words he spoke had goose bumps covering my arms. The words weren’t anything special, just a “How are you today?” but all I wanted to do was turn and look at him. Knowing I had to concentrate on what I was putting in the drink, I forced myself to stare at the different containers, but I felt my body leaning back and turning the slightest bit when the deep timbre of his voice floated over to me again.
Finish the drink, then look at him. Finish the drink, then look at him, I chanted to myself over and over.
“Do you—I’m sorry.” He huffed a short laugh. “Do you know who I am?” he asked Kira.
Who is this guy? We’re from Florida, of course she doesn’t know who you are. I suppressed a snort when Kira said what I’d just been thinking almost verbatim.
“Are you Moon?” he asked hesitantly, and I did snort then.
I started turning to finally look at the guy, who I’m sure was about to give Kira the worst pickup line known to man, when his question replayed through my mind. I sucked in a quick gasp, and the pitcher full of the unmixed ingredients I’d been holding slipped from my hand and fell to the floor—splashing everything up on my legs.
“Whoa! You okay there?” my customer asked, his expression and tone teasing. When I didn’t respond or move, his expression fell. “No, seriously, are you okay?”
There’s no way. He can’t be here, standing behind me, talking with my sister. My identical twin sister, and asking if she is Moon. I hadn’t heard that name since a night in Vegas over a year ago, but it was a name I hadn’t been able to stop thinking of for months.
I finally turned then, and everything began spinning as I looked at him. My knees felt weak, my legs felt like they wouldn’t hold me up for another minute, and I wasn’t sure where my breath had gone. I was hallucinating. It had to be all the men in the gym or the smell of the protein shakes. But I was definitely hallucinating. Because he was standing there in slacks, a button-down shirt, and a tie. And in my memory, he definitely wasn’t wearing that; he wasn’t wearing much of anything.
His arctic-blue eyes met mine, and I knew in the confused—yet relieved—expression on his face when he repeated my nickname, that I wasn’t hallucinating. He was there, standing in front of me, in a gym in motherfucking California.
“Look, guy, I don’t know what you mean by ‘Moon,’ but if you want some—” Kira had been turning to look at me, and cut off on a gasp. “No way! You’re—holy shit, you’re Vegas!”
I wasn’t moving again, I also didn’t know if I was breathing yet—because it definitely felt like I had only seconds before I passed out. I just stood there staring into the lightest blue eyes I’d ever seen, trying to make myself do something . . . anything.
He opened his mouth to speak, but before anything came out, Kristi ran up behind him and jumped on his back—her arms wrapped around his neck as she shouted, “Liam! Where have you been all my life?”
I tore my eyes away from them, and finally looked down at the mess I’d made. Forcing myself to look up again, I glanced over at my customer instead. “I’m—I’m so sorry. Let me start again.”
He looked over at Liam and Kristi, then looked at me again. “Not a problem. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah!” I said a little too brightly. “Of course I am. Let me get right on that.” No, no, I am not okay. He—Liam is here and I have no idea why he’s here. But I’m pretty sure I slept with my boss’s daughter’s boyfriend.
This time I took my time making the drink—afraid that Liam would still be standing there with Kristi when I was finished, and even more afraid that he wouldn’t be. Once I finished, I grabbed a few wet towels and crouched down to clean up the mess I had made. Seconds after, Liam was crouching down directly beside me . . . close enough that my knee touched his.