You barely had time to take your apron off before Rafe was pushing through the back door of the bar, jaw clenched, eyes wild. “The fuck was that?”

You rolled your eyes, shoving your tips into your bag. “What are you talking about now, Rafe?”

His laugh was sharp, humorless. “Oh, don’t do that. Don’t act like you don’t know.”

You sighed, already exhausted. It had been a long shift. Last thing you needed was him throwing a tantrum. “I really don’t.”

He took a step closer, eyes narrowing. “That guy. At the bar. What, you like being eye fucked at work now?”

Oh. So that’s what this was about.

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “You mean the customer who ordered a drink?”

“He was flirting with you.”

“He was tipping me.”

“Yeah, because he wanted something in return.” Rafe’s voice dropped lower, that dangerous edge to it. “And you were smiling at him like he had a chance.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “Oh my god, you’re unbelievable.”

“What’s unbelievable is my girl acting like it’s normal for guys to drool over her right in front of me.”

You swallowed, keeping your expression blank. “It’s my job, Rafe.”

That one hit. His jaw flexed, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He looked like he wanted to break something. Preferably the guy who had the nerve to look at you tonight.

Instead, he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t like it.”