3. Chapter Three

One night of de-rotting myself had done good things. I'd woken without an anvil on my chest, and climbing out of bed hadn't been the daunting task it had been for weeks.

When I returned to High Bar the next evening, I found myself looking for him. But not because I wanted to see him. No, avoidance was my main priority. He would not be seeing my new price list. We'd met once, and I didn't know his name, but I could already picture his smug expression.

Nope.

Wasn't happening.

He could take his good advice and handsome, punchable face and shove it.

The problem was, my mood had lifted so much, I'd gotten in early enough to bring my favorite people small boxes of cupcakes. I'd given Duke his on my way in and had received the bear hug to end all bear hugs.

Bea stopped in front of me, just like she had last night, giving a long once over. "Still not dead, I see."

"Alive, and so well, I made you your favorite Funfetti cupcakes." I dropped a small, pink box on her half-filled tray.

"Pffft. I don't like Funfetti," she grumbled, even though we both knew very well she did. "I guess I'll eat them anyway. Thanks."

"I won't tell anyone if you enjoy them."

Lloyd was behind the bar mixing a drink when I propped myself on a stool in front of him.

"Cupcakes for my cupcake," I said wryly.

His brow slowly lifted. "Red velvet?"

"Of course. Have I ever given you anything else?"

"Nope." He finished his drink and opened the box, his dark eyes lighting. "Someone might get the idea you're in love with me."

"Well, someone might be wrong." I poked my chest. "This thing is a raisin. All dried out and shriveled up."

"Raisins are still sweet," he countered.

I wrinkled my nose. "Devil's candy." Then I knocked on the bar top. "See you later, old man."

I wasn't a flirt. Had Lloyd not been one-hundred-percent gay and happily committed to Duke, I wouldn't have danced in that territory with him. But he was easy to tease since we both knew that was all it was. I was much more taciturn with people I wasn't certain about.

I swiveled away from Lloyd to go get my tray ready and stopped short. Standing at the end of the bar was the new guy. One brow winged, his arms crossed, he was watching me.

Stupidly punchable face.

This guy wasn't even my type, but looking at him made my cheeks burn. I had never seen anyone with such a symmetrical face. Thick, dark brows hovered over twinkling hazel eyes. His full, dusky lips were pursed into a mirthful smirk. His ebony hair was artfully disheveled, like he'd just rolled out of bed or a beautiful woman had shoved her fingers through it while he'd ravished her—

Nope, nope. Not thinking those thoughts about a guy I have no interest in.

He blocked the doorway to the back, thwarting my plan to ignore him.

"Hey." He rocked back on the heels of his scuffed leather boots.

"Hi." I nodded toward the door. "I need to get set up."

"Sure, sure. Quick question: did you charge them for those cupcakes?"

"No. Why would I?"

"You wouldn't, because they're your friends." His grin was bright. The pull of it raised his shoulders, giving his entire body a spring. He stuck his hand out. "I failed to introduce myself to you last night. I'm Miles."

Wary, but not rude, I slipped my hand in his. His palm was warm against mine, and he squeezed with the right amount of pressure—not too hard, but not so soft it was insulting.

"I'm Daisy."

His eyes widened. "Ah, so you're the Daisy I'm supposed to leave alone." He let go of my hand and scratched the back of his head. "I would have never guessed that was your name."

This was neither the first nor the hundredth time someone had said this to me.

"No? What would you have guessed?"

His brows drew together as he raked his eyes over me. I was still in my sweats, so there wasn't much to see, but he took his time.

"Lydia," he stated with all the assurance in the world.

"Lydia?" I let out a small laugh. "Why that name?"

"The all-black clothes, prickly temperament, bangs—Lydia suits you."

Something niggled in the back of my brain. A pop culture reference from my childhood. Who was Lydia? I couldn't figure it out. I had things I needed to be doing anyway.

"It might suit me, but it's not my name. Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm just Daisy."

He held both hands up and chuckled. "I'm not disappointed at all, Daisy. You surprised me, but I love surprises."

"That makes one of us." I nodded toward the door he was blocking. "Now that we've introduced ourselves, how about you let me by?"

"Sure. One sec." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a twenty. "I need some more cupcakes."

"Oh. Well…okay." I plucked the bill from his hand. Money was money, no matter who it was from, even the suspiciously cheerful new guy. Miles. "Any flavors you'd like?"

He stepped aside with a wide grin, giving me room to pass. "You know me, Daisy. I like surprises."

The only time men blatantly flirted with me was when I was in my cigarette girl get-up. I'd chosen my outfit with the male gaze in mind, but men looking at my boobs and legs with desire remained disconcerting.

As long as all they did was look, though, I could deal—especially when that meant better tips and selling lots of treats.

Miles was hanging at my end of the bar when I returned for a refill of cupcakes.

"You're good at that." He leaned a hip against the bar, settling in to watch me.

Mid-reach into the pink box, I stopped and turned to him. "At lining up cupcakes?"

He chuckled. "No. Well…yeah, that too, but I was referring to you flirting your ass off. You're good at it."

"Why shouldn't I be?"

I'd just been thinking I wasn't used to the male attention I received at work. Miles was correct to be surprised by my switch in persona.

And I hated it.

He didn't know me well enough to be surprised. Then again, maybe he did. Maybe all it took was one look to surmise exactly the type of person I was.

He uncrossed his arms to hold up his hands. "I never said you shouldn't. I only complimented you on getting your flirt on. I bet you're making bank." His eyes flicked to my updated price list, and a wide grin spread across his face. I couldn't even say it was smug. He appeared delighted. "You took my advice, Daisy-daze. How's it working out?"

I resumed lining up cupcakes on my tray so he couldn't see the powerful blush blazing on my cheeks.

"So far, so good, actually," I muttered.

"You wish I'd been wrong so you could shove it in my face?"

"No." I glanced up at him and then back to my task. "I'm spiteful, but not so much I'd cut off my own nose to prove you wrong."

"Don't think that's how the phrase goes, but I get you. And you're welcome."

Huffing, I closed the lid and straightened my tray. "I'll thank you when my sales remain up for several days."

"I won't be here, so you'd better thank me now."

My brow knitted. "Are you quitting already?"

"I'm not a bartender in real life. I told you I was doing Nick a favor. Tonight's my last shift. If you want to thank me next week, you'll need to give me your phone number."

It was on the tip of my tongue to politely decline. I had a boyfriend and—wait, scratch that. How had I completely forgotten for five seconds I was no longer beholden to anyone? Andy and I had been over for a month. It was just hard to suddenly be single again after seven years.

"I'll think about it," I hedged, though I wouldn't think too hard. Miles was cute—a gross understatement, but I refused to acknowledge how breathtakingly handsome the man in front of me was—but I was in no place to enter into…anything.

"Don't think too hard."

The corner of my mouth hitched. A crooked smile. I wasn't worried about it. "Is that your life motto?"

"Wow, that hurt." He pressed the center of his chest. "Go back to flirting with strangers in exchange for money."

"You're awfully judgmental for someone who just asked for my number."

He winked, and dear god, it was charming instead of cheesy. Before this moment, I hadn't known that possible. "I can't say I won't also be flirting with strangers for money. The homes for the unhoused charity I'm donating my tips to need it."

"Very impressive," I deadpanned. "I'll be using my income to plant trees in the rainforest."

Before he could reply, Bea appeared from nowhere, slapping her tray on the bar. "I have orders, Preppy."

Miles' eyes slid over my face for a lingering moment, then he shook his head and gave Bea his full attention.

"Sock it to me, Bea."

As I walked away with my laden tray, I could have sworn I heard Bea telling Miles he needed to leave me alone.