Page 2 of Out Of The Ashes

"You're strung tight," he says, gently rubbing his thumb in circles. "You need a good massage." He leans closer, and his breath fans my ear when he adds, "I happily volunteer."

I huff out a breath and pull away, even though my mind screams at me to stay right there.

Sully is a flirt, but he's never crossed the line, and I don't want to give him the impression he can. We're friends. We've known each other on a peripheral level for years now. He's one of the guys from the firehouse, and I'm one of the girls behind the grill feeding him his lunch most days.

We aren't more, and we never will be. I can't be.

"Sunshine—"

"Is that a joke?" I ask, rounding on him because I'm so frustrated by my thoughts and mood and he's the closest, most irritating problem at the moment. "I mean, I think everyone would agree I'm not sunny."

I don't know why I'm spoiling for a fight, but I feel like it's a long time coming. His so-called endearments…hurt.

I know I'm a lot to handle, and I see the looks male customers exchange when they think I don't see them, but I don't need my lack of cheer and positivity rubbed in my freaking face. If he wants sunny, he can go elsewhere and leave me alone. I don't need more stress in my life.

His dark bourbon gaze takes on a gleam I can't explain. It softens but seems to burn at the same time. But how is that possible?

"You are everything sweet," he murmurs with a soft Carolina drawl. "At least to me."

I open my mouth, but words fail me. What do I say to that? Is the man blind? Mocking me still?

"You're like a sunflower," he murmurs.

I snort. "Oh? How's that?"

He seems to study me even harder.

"You're strong. Resilient. Anyone can tell you've weathered some storms, but you're still standing. Still bright and sunny and unique. I see it."

"Order up!"

I'm at a loss for words. I don't comment on Sully's comparison to a sunflower or what that comparison did to me. No, I turn on my heel and follow the sound of Cook's voice.

Due to it being the off-season and a weekday, we're working with a skeleton crew. The cook is new, and all I know about him is that his name is Dave and he's heavy on the salt. He also sports a few tattoos. Some regular ink. Some blue.

"You bellowed?" I ask.

The guy smirks before raking his gaze over me in a way that leaves me feeling like I need a shower to clean off his visibly dirty thoughts. But his gaze abruptly shifts and narrows when he spots Sully's large frame behind me.

I glare at Dave and then Sully and stalk over to grab the plates to hand off to the one waiter working tonight. Jimmy is a college kid working two jobs like I am despite carrying a full load at UNCW. He's tired, too. And the last thing Jimmy needs is to deal with Dave, who seems to have it out for the kid, so I've been playing interference and grabbing the plates from Dave whenever I can.

Jimmy meets me at the bar.

"Thanks, Vi. I need two of your specials," the college kid says before he turns to go deliver the food. "And a Coke for the DD."

I set about fixing the drinks and try to ignore my awareness of Sully now positioned on the other side of the bar. He's taken a stool to my left, and when I glance up, I realize he isn't watching me but having a stare down with Dave.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at them as I tray the drinks and hand those off to Jimmy, who also seems to notice the two men before making a face at me and carrying the tray toward the sandpit. "Lay off," I tell Sully in a low voice. "I don't want to have to cook, too. I do enough of that on the bus."

Sully grins, head tilted as he regards me.

"I haven't said a word."

"You're saying plenty, and you know it," I snap.

"You into Dave?" he asks in a low tone.

"Are you kidding?"