It had been another long Friday night, the bar buzzing with energy, neon lights flickering, music pulsing through every corner. I was behind the counter, moving with practiced ease, mixing drinks, exchanging jokes, keeping the night alive. But there was one pair of eyes that hadn’t left me all evening… Alex, my bartender.I have known Alex for years, trusted him with everything, from inventory to opening the bar when I was sick. But lately… lately, there had been a tension I couldn’t ignore. Subtle glances, lingering touches that seemed accidental but never were, a quiet confidence in his service that went beyond skill.The night was winding down, patrons thinning, the laughter and chatter fading into the hum of the last slow songs. Alex leaned against the bar, wiping down a counter near me, his fingers brushing mine as he worked. I felt a jolt at the contact, my body reacting before my mind could even register what I wanted.“Brittany,” Alex said suddenly, voice low, almost hesitant.
Read more