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tearing up. Way to bring up her misery. Looks like I’m up for the asshole of the year award. “One night, he went out for a ride, and he got hit.”
    “Shit,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.” I wrap my arm over her shoulders. “Look, if you’d rather do something else tonight I totally understand. It’s your first night, and, if punching a time clock isn’t you’re idea of a good time, I get it.”
    “No, it’s okay.” She glances at the entrance with the overgrown bear looking ready to sexually assault the next patron and shudders. “Besides, I’m all for lining my pockets.” She pinches at her barely-there shorts, and my dick weeps for her to touch it. “My clothes haven’t quite arrived, so I may have raided Jeanie’s closet without telling her.” She twists her heels into the ground, and her cleavage bounces unexpectedly. “And shoes.”
    Baya sparkles under this dim light both inside and out. Her perfect lips are calling to me, red as rubies, hell, raspberries that I’d like to bite into. But she’s not just some chick from Briggs I’m looking to bag, not some barfly ready and willing to drop in front of my Levi’s, she’s sweet—special—somebody’s little sister. And if I keep saying it I might actually be able to defuse the bomb ticking in my boxers, but a part of me knows better. I’ll be slicking one off in the shower later in her honor whether or not Cole approves.
    I warm her arm with my hand and lead her up the walk.
    “Let’s go make some money,” I sigh.
    Deep down I know I have to have Baya. I need her to want me too, and I can’t figure out why the hell I feel this way after knowing her for less than a few hours.
    Baya Brighton has cast her spell whether she’s aware of it or not, and, now, the only thing left to do is to figure out how the hell to break it.
    I don’t think I can.
    I don’t think I want to.
     

     
    There’s a trifecta of universities in the area that have turned the Black Bear into a hub of social civilization—although technically most nights are anything but civil. Having a central outlet like this has expanded the dating pool by three campuses and is half the reason there are so many damn tally marks on my wall to begin with.
    Inside the bar, the mountain motif fits the area, unlike the upscale Sky Lab with its sci-fi feel or the Ice Bar with its literal frozen tundra. I can’t wait to show Baya both of those places. What the hell am I saying? I glance down and give a polite smile, but my gut twists like a schoolboy at the sight of her. I need to stay the hell away from Baya, not drag her around to each of my family’s establishments in hopes that a blowjob waits for me on the other end of the factory tour. I’m a moron for even looking at her. She’s like crack, the more I’m near her, the more I need to have her.
    “This is really nice.” She looks around taking it all in, the mountain-themed tapestry lining the booths, the barstools carved out of gnarl wood. “So what do I do?”
    “Start here.” I pluck a small white apron from behind the counter and hand it to her. It’s frilly and looks more like lingerie, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Baya ties it low on her waist and with her micro-shorts it looks like that’s all she’s wearing.
    Hot damn. I ride my gaze up her body, nice and slow, and my dick perks to attention.
    “Who’s this?” A woman’s voice grumps from behind, and for a second I think I might find Aubree with her disgruntled lady boner, but it’s not. It’s Laney, one of the girls from school who works part time as a waitress. Her dark hair is pulled tight in a bun, and she’s sporting her signature ultra-tight Black Bear T-shirt. Laney is hot in her own right, but she’s not for me. Besides, she dated one of my good friends for a while last year. That sort of took her permanently off the roster.
    “Laney.” I pull her in. “This is Baya—Cole Brighton’s little sister.” Maybe if I keep reminding myself,