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in confusion. “Ready for what?”
    “Your audition,” he said, with that amused, trying-not-to-laugh look on his face. It was infuriating and adorable all at once.
    I nodded stiffly and pursed my lips, frustrated with my betraying emotions. After washing my hands, I turned to him and waited for his first order. He was staring at me. Not just casually gazing, he was staring at me like he was appraising a rare piece of artwork. It was odd and intense, and that damn flush crept back up my neck and painted my cheeks.
    Finally, he turned his body and pressed his backside against the bar, casually crossing his ankles, his head turned towards mine. He was close—very close. Close enough for me to get a whiff of his scent and feel the warmth of his body.
    Standing side by side, I could tell Blaine was tall. He had to be at least six inches taller than my 5 ft. 6 in. frame. I liked tall men. I liked the way they could fold their bodies around mine and make me feel safe and secure, even just for a night. My mind began to drift to images of Blaine’s arms around me, those big hands sliding across hips, around my ass, up my bare back…
    “It’s good to see you again, roadrunner,” he muttered for my ears only. It was enough to startle me from my insane daydream. Just as well. It would never, ever come to fruition.
    I glanced at Angel, engaged in a conversation with Mick, then turned my head back to him and raised a brow. “Roadrunner?”
    Blaine’s mouth twisted again, giving me another peek at that metallic barbell. He wasn’t doing it to be seductive. At least I didn’t think he was. It seemed more out of habit than anything else. “Yeah. The way you ran outta here last time, you would’ve thought a 50-ton anvil was about to come crashing down on you.”
    “Is that right?” I smirked playfully. I couldn’t help flirting with him. It was harmless, after all. “So what does that make you? Wile E. Coyote?”
    A question knit his brows. “Why would you think that? You think I’m chasing you?”
    My eyes widened with embarrassment. “Oh, no, I wasn’t saying…”
    “Because I’m not chasing you,” he cut me off. “Not yet, at least.”
    I didn’t know how to respond. I was confused by his behavior, unsure if he was attracted to me…or not. Not that he should be. I just liked knowing where I stood.
    “Oh,” was all I could manage.
    Blaine grinned crookedly, his warm chocolate eyes heating into a smolder. “Screaming orgasm.”
    “Huh…what?” I juggled the glass in my hand, almost dropping it.
    He chuckled, and I had to admit, it was a fascinating sound. Husky and sexy. He ran a hand through his perfectly unruly hair. “I want a Screaming Orgasm. You do know what those are, right?”
    “Oh, yeah,” I mumbled, assembling the cocktail. Yeah, I knew what they were from prior bartending jobs, but unfortunately I had only experienced them in drink form.
    Once the shot was perfectly garnished, despite my slightly shaky hands, I slid the drink over to him. It wasn’t far since he had made it a point to only leave a few inches between us.
    Blaine took the tall shot in his hands, appraising it thoroughly, then brought the glass to his mouth and took a small sip, licking his lips afterwards. It gave me full view of that tongue ring, and I felt I could die happy right then and there.
    “Mmmm,” he groaned lightly. I had to suck my lips in to stifle my own reaction. He turned to me and held up the glass just inches from my face. “Taste it,” he breathed, the words audible only to me. Before I could take the shot glass from him, he was pressing it to my lips gently, his gaze predatory. As my lips parted, so did his, as if he was guiding the movement. He tilted it back, the sweet-strong mix of vodka and creamy liquor trickling down my throat and warming my chest.
    “You like it?” he asked just above a whisper as he brought the glass down, his eyes never leaving mine.
    I licked my lips slowly, probably too