Chapter 3

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Popping the tops off three beers, I slid them across the bar top

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Popping the tops off three beers, I slid them across the bar top. "That'll be $18."

The man slipped me a twenty and grabbed the bottle necks, telling me to keep the change before heading back to the table he shared with his friends.

Stepping back, I wiped my hands on the rag hanging from my back pocket and, for what felt like the first time since my shift started, took a moment to breathe.

Saturday nights at Apollo's were always busy, and over the past couple of months, I'd developed a love-hate relationship with the constant crowd. Clocking in when the dinner rush started, it was typical for me to spend hours pouring drinks before the evening lull settled in, allowing me to take a break before the late-night customers began rolling in.

And tonight was no different.

Located in the heart of Boston, the pub was locally owned and extremely popular with the younger crowd—appealing to those who enjoyed a relaxed night out as opposed to one filled with loud music and a swarm of dancing bodies. We offered good food and decently priced drinks, housed a pool table and dartboard around the back, and had set up several televisions to pull in the local sports fans on game days.

It was, to so many, a little corner of perfection, but was nowhere close to where I expected to be working four years after graduation.

"You know he's looking over here again," Maria said under her breath, a shadow of a smirk on her lips, "and that's at least the fifth time since he walked in over an hour ago."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as she reached behind me to grab the tequila from the top shelf for a group of women at the other end of the bar who had insisted on another round of shots. But despite the way I acted unaffected, I knew exactly who she was referring to.

"I'm serious. Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome can't seem to take his eyes off you."

I quirked an eyebrow. "And how do you know he isn't checking out the beer menu?" I asked, referring to the intricately designed chalkboard hanging behind us.

A flat look of disbelief was sent my way as I cracked a smile, but I couldn't help the way my gaze shifted across the room. Particularly towards one of the booths in the back.

Under dim lighting, he sat across from a woman, but considering her hand rested on the thigh of a man who'd situated his wheelchair at the edge of their table, he was presumably the third wheel of the group. Though possibly not for long, because as my eyes swept over the rest of the pub, it was clear he'd already caught the eye of plenty of women.

And for good reason.

Tanned, tall, and devilishly handsome, his brown locks had been pulled back from his face to rest at the back of his head in a bun. The style, which I normally wasn't drawn towards, alluded exceptionally well to the neatly kept beard covering the lower half of his face, hinting only slightly at the strong jaw that lay underneath.

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