"Uh . . . I'm Quinn. Quinn Hamilton. This is my first night."
I nodded. "Huh." Chewing on the side of my lip, I studied him from head to toe. "So, where the hell did Jessie find you? Hiding under a pew at church?" He looked like a freaking choirboy, his hair all gelled and styled and his face fresh and pure as if he'd just come from a confessional to blot all his sins away. All two of them.
I was surprised Jessie—our temporary boss—could even find a kid as clean-cut as him.
"Gamble hired him," Ten said, popping up beside Hamilton to pat Hamilton's shoulders from behind. Ten had a purple ring around one eye; I wondered where he'd gotten the shiner. Probably at football practice. "He's on the team with us."
"Really?" A college boy. That figured. But a football player? Ten had to be pulling my leg. "He looks like a fucking virgin." Even if he did have the size to play a mean game of ball.
Ten just laughed and slapped Hamilton's shoulders again as the poor virgin newbie blushed hard. "We don't hold that against him. Kid knows how to tackle like a motherfucker. And he can throw a ball almost as good as Gamble over there."
Kid. That was exactly right. The boy didn't look old enough to work at a bar, but he had to be at least twenty-one, which still made me the old guy. Mason, Gamble, Ten, and apparently Hamilton here were all barely twenty-one while I'd had my twenty-fourth birthday a couple months back.
In truth, I felt decades older than the four college boys I worked with.
Oh, well. Being around them made me laugh. Though I never hung out with any of them outside of work, I considered them some of my closest friends. And yet, I didn't bother to tell any of them I'd gotten hitched earlier today. It didn't seem like anything to brag about.
Tying on my own apron, I got to work, and showed Hamilton how to unlock the door to let the masses in. It really did feel like a flood tonight too. Busier than usual, the place exploded with noise and people. My tips went through the roof, and thank God, Hamilton had worked in a pizza parlor before, so he was decent at waiting tables.
I noticed some contention at the bar when Ten was up there trying to get some orders. Gamble sent him a brief glare before completely ignoring him, and Ten had to wait until Mason was free to get his drinks. Ten and Gamble were roommates as well as football players together, so I asked Gamble with my next trip, "You two love birds have a fight, or what?" Hell, maybe Gamble had given Ten the black eye.
Gamble merely pierced his roommate with a glare before refusing to answer me. I let it drop but studiously watched the two for a while until I saw a little brunette I knew Gamble was interested in enter the bar. When Ten spotted her as well, he turned tail and hurried away in the opposite direction.
Interesting. I wondered if the two guys were fighting over her. Sticking my nose where it didn't belong, I approached her, even though she'd just turned Hamilton down for a drink. Hey, I needed something more stimulating in my life than conversations with a three-month-old. So I snooped into my coworkers' lives.
At first, I pretended to treat her like any other customer. "Hey there, pretty lady. Can I get you drink?" Then I looked into her eyes and hoped to God my impression of a double take looked genuine as I pointed at her. "Wait, you were here a few weeks back, flirting with Gamble, weren't you? He's working the bar tonight."
I led her up to the bar and called for Gamble to get his attention. When he caught sight of her, his eyes lit up, telling me that if he and Ten had been fighting over her, he'd definitely won the match.
It was like watching a soap opera. Ten avoided the bar while she was there, and Gamble decided flirting with her was a job requirement. Since I didn't know Hamilton yet, I sidled up next to Mason to tip my chin toward Gamble and his woman. "So, what's up with those two?"
I was hoping for a Ten-Gamble fight to the death story, but Lowe shocked the shit out of me when he said, "She's his literature professor."
"Really?" Pretty little thing like her didn't look like any literature professor I'd ever seen before. But then I narrowed my eyes. "He's not doing her for a grade, is he?" I had no patience for men who used, manipulated, disrespected, or in any way hurt a woman.
Mason only smiled and shook his head. "Not that I can tell. I think he really likes her."
"Hmm." That was good, at least. "What's Ten's problem, then? He into her too?"
"I don't think so." Mason gathered up a row of used glasses sitting on the bar. "I'm guessing he just knows more about their relationship than he's supposed to, and that makes Gamble nervous. Big time."
Knowing Ten and his smart-assed, lewd mouth, I figured Lowe had to be right. Ten had no doubt said something offensive enough to rile Gamble into giving him a black eye.