jax
A hurricane shot for her number
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The bell above the bar door jingled as he walked in, broad shoulders filling the doorway, eyes already searching for one person.
There she was.
Hair tied back, notepad tucked into her apron, weaving effortlessly between tables with that same smile he'd spent the last year pretending not to stare at.
He'd invented every excuse imaginable to come here. Burgers he wasn't hungry for. Coffee he didn't need. Fries that somehow tasted better when she was the one setting them down.
Tonight, though?
Tonight the chalkboard behind the bar had a brand-new special written across it.
HURRICANE SHOTS — Try if you dare!
His grin spread instantly.
Oh, you've got to be kidding me.When she wandered over with her usual polite smile, pen poised above her notepad, he leaned his elbows onto the counter.
So...his eyes flicked to the sign before landing right back on her.
...you're telling me you people are legally allowed to hand me little glasses full of bad decisions?A tiny laugh escaped her before she caught herself.
I can neither confirm nor deny that.
Perfect.He slapped the menu shut dramatically.
I'll take one.She scribbled it down.
...Just one?He looked genuinely offended.
Ma'am.A beat.
I've waited an entire year to have an excuse to make you bring me something called a Hurricane Shot. You think I'm stopping at one?His smile was hopelessly charming, the kind that always threatened to get him into trouble.
Oh no... tonight I'm becoming your favorite customer.He rested his chin in his hand as she turned to leave.
...And if these things are as strong as they sound,he called after her with a grin,
you're gonna have to tell me your name before I forget how words work.