My stomach drops. "That was Havoc?"
"That was Havoc."
"Am I fired?"
"I don't think so? You're still breathing, so that's a good sign."
Jamie joins us, eyes wide. "Did he say anything?"
"He said... it's fine."
Both women stare at me.
"He said it's *fine*?" Jamie repeats slowly, like I've just told her the sky is green.
"Is that... bad?"
"No," Liz says. "It's just... unexpected. Havoc doesn't really do 'fine.' He does 'deal with it' or 'stay out of my way' or just nothing at all. 'Fine' is almost friendly. For him."
I look toward where he disappeared into the crowd, but he's gone.
My hands are still shaking.
"Come on," Liz says gently. "Let's get you some new drinks for table twenty. And maybe avoid Havoc for the rest of the night."
That sounds like the best advice I've heard all day.
But as I follow her back to the bar, I can still feel those gray eyes on me, and I can't shake the image of that scar, that intensity, the way he looked at me like he could see straight through to every secret I've ever kept.
I came to Vegas to disappear, but something tells me I just got noticed by exactly the wrong person.
Chapter 2 - Havoc
My cock is raging hard, and I have no fucking idea why.
I push through the casino floor toward the back hallway, beer soaking through my shirt and dripping down my abs, and all I can think about is dark brown eyes gone wide with panic and the way her hands shook when she shoved those napkins at me.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I've worked this floor for eight years. Seen every type of woman Vegas has to offer: the showgirls with legs for days, the high rollers in designer dresses, the tourists in too-tight club wear, the working girls who know exactly what they're selling. Beautiful women. Confident women. Women who've made it clear they'd be happy to spend a night forgetting their names in my bed.
I've never given a single one of them more than a passing glance.
But this girl, this curvy little thing with wild dark hair escaping her ponytail and a constellation of beauty marks scattered across her left cheek like someone spilled stars on her skin, dumps three beers on me, and my dick decides now is the time to wake the fuck up.
I adjust myself as I walk, grateful the casino's dim enough that nobody notices. The wet shirt's going to be a pain in the ass to explain, but that's the least of my problems right now.
*You new?*
Brilliant fucking conversation, Mercer. Really smooth.
I didn't even get her name. Just stood there like an idiot, dripping Corona, while she apologized a hundred times with those full lips that I should not be thinking about, and then Iwalked away because staying near her for another second was going to make this hard-on situation a lot more obvious.
"Yo, Havoc!"
I stop, turning to see Knuckles heading toward me from the direction of the high roller tables. He's grinning that shit-eating grin that means he's about to say something that'll make me want to punch him.
"The fuck happened to you?" He gestures at my soaked shirt. "Someone finally get tired of your sunny disposition and throw a drink?"