Damaged and the Beast (3 page)

Still thinking about my future, I dressed in the Denny’s uniform. I’d taken my first waitressing job when I was twelve. Using fake documents, I worked at an I-HOP in Colorado. Dad had trouble getting legit jobs after he served time for theft back in his early twenties. Mom had trouble getting legit jobs when she showed up for interviews stoned. I never minded working for the family in the summers, but spending six hours working at night on top of schoolwork made me resentful.

Having plenty of good references from the jobs I worked legally, I never found it difficult to get a shot from managers. They said I had an honest face. A lot of girls in my high schools didn’t want to waitress. They frowned at the uniforms and thought it was cooler to work at the GAP or somewhere else in the mall. Discounts for overpriced clothes were useless to me. I wanted cash and made it with my tips. Without those tips, I wouldn’t be in college now. That was the deal Dad made with me when I was fifteen and complained about being the only one working. His first solution was to get Tawny a job, but she looked her age and most places checked her documents too closely.

His second solution was to take my pay, but let me keep the tips for college. I opened an account in a bank and deposited my tips every day because keeping cash around a motel wasn’t safe. At the very least, I had to worry about my dad’s sticky fingers.

Unsure how a Denny’s in a college town would rate when it came to tips, I made five dollars in two hours. Half was from college kids who tipped me in quarters. The other half was from an older regular who bossed me around a lot and was really particular. Smiling a lot, I gave him what he wanted and he tipped me well. Especially considering he only spent four dollars.

The other waitresses were broken down between the pros and the college brats. I overheard one of the pros tell another one how I was the newest nightshift brat. They made wagers on how lazy I’d be. The other nightshift brat was exactly what they were expecting. Piper frequently disappeared into the bathroom where I suspected she was texting. I kept an eye on her tables, cleaned whenever I wasn’t working, and constantly checked the ketchup levels in the bottles.

Despite what my family thought, kissing ass wasn’t shameful. While Dad’s side of the family would especially disagree, most of them couldn’t keep a job for more than a few months. In fact, they were often fired for texting in the bathroom.

At eight, while I was wiping the other brat’s empty tables, Hot Guy from Spanish class showed up alone. He carried a bag and strolled to a corner table to plug in his laptop. The spot he chose was Piper’s table, but I didn’t know where she was so I decided to help out. I also wanted to talk to Hot Guy, but that was neither here nor there.

“Root beer,” he said, without looking up.

Maybe it was best if he didn’t look at me. Wearing a black shapeless shirt and slacks with ugly shoes, I barely wore makeup, having wiped off much of it when I sweated on the walk to work.

Even if I had looked good, I probably didn’t want Hot Guy checking me out. He was the type of guy who didn’t do white picket fences or potlucks. He probably didn’t know who Paula Deen was and wouldn’t want kids until he was too old to bang jailbait any longer. Not much older than me, he had a long way to go before settling down out of necessity and playing tattooed family man with his twenty year old biker babe wife named Bambi.

“Do you know what you’d like?” I asked, torn between wanting him to pay attention to me and hoping he never looked up.

The moment I leaned fully into hoping he wouldn’t notice me, Hot Guy looked up. His brown eyes were such a rich color that I felt both drawn and repelled by their darkness. No matter the beauty of those eyes, his gaze possessed the kind of directness common with assholes. They didn’t look at people, but through them. They knew extensive eye contact was viewed as a challenge and they didn’t give a shit. They enjoyed making people uncomfortable and watching girls squirm.

“Spanish class,” he said.

“Yes,” was my super awesome response.

“Freshman.”

“Yep.”

Love match for sure.
Nothing says romantic connection like grunting out a conversation.

“Do you know what you’d like?” I asked again.

“Yeah,” he said, still staring at me like I was up to no good and he didn’t dare look away. “The Slamburger with seasoned fries. I’ll want dessert so don’t bring the check yet.”

“How do you want your egg?”

“Medium,” he said then gestured behind me. “That girl is hating on you.”

Turning, I saw Piper glaring at me. She twisted her lips and cracked her neck like she might throw a punch.

“That’s my table,” she muttered.

“You were on break and he wanted to sit here.”

“Fine, well, I’m back.”

Unsure if Piper wanted to look at Hot Guy or knew he was a good tipper, I stepped back when she grabbed my pad and glanced over the order.

“Medium?” she clarified, giving him a big pretty smile.

“Nope. I’m keeping this one,” Hot Guy said, pointing to me. “We have Spanish together. Don’t we, baby?”

“Yes, but…”

“No, but,” he said, losing the hint of a smile. “If you want, I can talk to the manager and see if he gives a shit what this one here thinks?”

Piper and I stared at Hot Guy then she handed me the notepad and walked away.

“I’ll put this in for you.”

“I don’t get a thank you?”

Nodding, I forced a smile. “Thank you.”

“Ah, that’s right. You don’t know how well I tip hot girls from my Spanish class. Once you do, your thank you will sound more sincere.”

“Sorry.”

A smile lit up his face. “You look like you’re gonna cry.”

“You’re being scary. I assumed you wanted me to cry.”

Smile widening, he leaned back in the booth. “Please, don’t go crying on my account.”

“Let me put this in for you.”

Hot Guy nodded and I felt him watching me until I disappeared into the kitchen. The urge to sneak into the restroom and fix up my appearance was unbelievably strong. Then, I reminded myself how I shouldn’t flirt with tattoo boy. Even if I wanted to hook up with a guy who wouldn’t acknowledge me as soon as he was finished, Hot Guy had already seen me looking like crap. No need to clean myself up and give away how I’d nicknamed him Hot Guy.

In the kitchen, Piper walked over and whispered, “Guys like him hit their girlfriends. Good luck with that.”

Taking the food and a refill, I walked towards his table and noticed him typing. With his tight shirt riding up over his muscles, I could see what looked like an eagle tattoo on one arm and maybe an angel on the other. When I reached two tables away, his gaze locked onto me like a laser, heating my skin.

“I hope the egg is okay.”

Grinning, he lifted the bun then shrugged. “I have a cousin named Farah,” he said and I gave him a tight smile. “She’s a bitch.”

My smile turned weird. While I couldn’t see it, I sensed the smile had gone wrong because he was creeping me out.

“I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes.”

“Don’t you want to know my name?” he asked, grabbing the ketchup bottle without taking his eyes off of me.

“Sure. What’s your name?”

“You don’t sound genuinely interested.”

“I’m not begging if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

Throwing his head back, he let out a deep rolling laugh before focusing his dark gaze on me again.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you beg,” he said then added when I frowned, “Cooper.”

“Anyone ever call you Coop the Poop or Poopy Coopy?” I asked, messing with him because his iron stare made me nervous.

“No,” he muttered.

“Not to your face anyway.”

A smile lifted the corner of his mouth and his gaze softened. “No, not to my face.”

“I guess there are benefits to being scary.”

Cooper gave me a half smile, but his eyes watched me in a weird way now. Like he was memorizing me for possible dissection later. Or maybe he just wanted to fuck me. Whatever his reasons, he was creeping me out again.

“I’ll be back.”

For the next twenty minutes, I checked on Cooper a few times, cleaned tables, and filled salt shakers. No matter where I went in the restaurant, I felt Cooper watching me. I told myself I was crazy, but then I’d glance over to find him watching me. Not even casually either. Leaning back in his booth, he ignored the laptop and his few remaining fries.

“Are you ready for dessert?” I finally asked.

“Where are you from?”

“I moved around a lot growing up.”

“Family in the military?”

“No.”

“Why New Hampton?”

“I’m a big fan of pork. Are you ready for dessert?”

Cooper smiled softly, but his gaze was dark. “Did you bring a boyfriend with you to town?”

“No,” I said, stepping back. “I’m focused on school.”

Nodding, Cooper gave me a little grin. “Message received,” he muttered, taking the dessert menu and glancing at it. “For now anyway.”

“I can come back.”

“Nope. Bring me the brownie. Extra whip cream.”

“I don’t think that comes with whip cream.”

“It does now. Extra whip cream in fact.”

Walking to the kitchen, I prepared the brownie. Flirting with Cooper was a mistake. Based on his laptop and the big black Harley sitting in the parking lot, he had money. Based on his looks, he was tripping over girls. Based on the way he teased me, I was on his radar as a possible hookup. I’d already messed up. Yet, if I became cold, he might make things rough for me at work. I wasn’t sure why, but I sensed he really would talk to the manager about a girl who pissed him off. I didn’t want to be that girl.

“Here you go. Extra whipped cream.”

Cooper shut off his laptop and closed it. “Do you do your schoolwork before your shift?”

“I’ll get to it after I finish here.”

Frowning, he glanced around. “You work every night?”

“Not weekends and most Fridays. The girls with seniority get those shifts.” When his frown darkened, I continued, “Better tips.”

Nodding, Cooper took his spoon and cut open the brownie. “You going to any parties this weekend?”

“Doubtful. I have schoolwork and I haven’t finished unpacking.”

“Where do you live?” he asked, mixing up the brownie and ice cream.

“With my mom.”

Cooper glanced up from his food and squinted like I was messing with him. “Your mom moved here with you?”

“No, she lived here. It’s why I came to New Hampton. Well, that and the pork thing.”

“Yeah, the pork thing,” he murmured, grinning. “You didn’t live with your mom before?”

“No,” I said quietly, hoping my tone shut him up.

“Why not?”

Sighing, I realized Cooper was either tone deaf or didn’t care. I sensed it was the latter.

“My parents split up and I went with my dad.”

“Is your mom fucked up or something?”

Stepping back, I frowned at him. “I should let you eat.”

Cooper looked up from his brownie. “Don’t be like that. I’m just curious. Most times when parents split up, the kids go with the mom. You didn’t so I figured your mom must be messed up.”

“No offense, but that’s personal and I don’t really know you.”

“Do you want to know me?” he asked, his gaze too direct. “I can tell you whatever you want to know. Not here at work with your boss and that bitch watching, but this weekend I could show you around.”

“That’s nice, but I plan to stay in this weekend.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, twisting his lips in a grumpy way. “You can go check on ketchup bottles if you want, Farah. I’ll eat my food silently and give you a break.”

Standing awkwardly, I knew he was angry and I wasn’t sure how to handle it. When he ignored me, I walked away. Though I considered checking the ketchup bottles, I stopped myself. Around nine, a drunk guy showed up and had me and Piper stand next to each other before choosing the waitress he wanted. Luckily for me, he picked Piper.

“Close one,” Cooper said, standing up as I came for his plate.

“Tell me about it.”

At six four, Cooper stood a solid foot over me, strong and intimidating. When I noticed a hint of whip cream on his chin, I wiped it away without thinking. His gaze locked onto mine and I could feel him breathing faster.

Cooper looked so dark, yet appealing as he stared down at me. I could imagine riding on the back of his motorcycle, my arms wrapped around his hard stomach, the air rushing through my hair as we had fun somewhere. Yes, I could imagine having fun with him and then walking away as he sexed up the next girl. College was about easy sexy fun and Cooper had easy sexy fun written all over his beautiful face.

“Sorry if I seemed cranky earlier,” I said, aiming for casual. “Moving here has been stressful, but maybe when things settle, you might still want to show me around.”

Cooper studied my face then ran his thumb across my bottom lip as if ridding me of a smudge of something. I wiped my mouth quickly.