One of the perks of being the assistant manager at a large hotel is complete control over your own hours and most of the staff's.

Downsides? When the night manager calls in sick, you have to cover for him.

So on this lovely Friday evening, when I should have had the night off, I'm just clocking in for a twelve-hour shift.

I'm going to strangle that guy if he 'randomly' falls sick on another Friday before he has the weekend off.

I greet Valentina, who's already behind the front desk before I go into my office in the back. Our boss is lurking around here somewhere, but I haven't seen him yet. So after a few minutes, I grab a magazine from my bag, lean back in my chair, and cross my legs to get comfortable.

About an hour later, I'm doing a round, making sure everyone is doing their job and therefore enabling me to do less of mine. As I pass through the lobby, I hear an excited voice call out to me.

"Sophie!" I lift my head and find Valentina leaning over the front desk, her eyes shining and a million-watt smile on her face. "You won't believe who just walked into the restaurant."

Valentina has worked here for about a year. She's young, just out of high school and taking a gap year before college. She's a pretty girl with full, red lips, unnaturally long eyelashes, and raven black hair, which is tucked away under her pink hijab.

Her parents are also evil people, who figured that celebrating her birthday on February fourteenth wasn't bad enough but decided to name her Valentina.

"Who?" I ask, uninterested, walking closer to her.

"Jayden Sennels!" she exclaims, bouncing on her feet.

I stop in my tracks.

What the hell is he doing here?

There's no way he knows this is my job; for god's sake, he doesn't even know my name.

This is a large hotel, and if I were actually to do my job, I would have plenty of places to hide until he left, but then again, it might be fun to see his expression when I walk up to his table.

I realize Valentina is still speaking, and I just catch the end of her sentence, "... they just sat down."

Oh, he's here with people? Well, count my interest peaked.

I raise an eyebrow at her before turning to walk towards the restaurant. I can hear her scramble out from behind the desk to follow me.

We walk in behind the large mahogany bar covering one side of the big room. The bartender, Harry, is hunched over, tapping furiously at his phone. When he hears us approach, he glances in our direction, straightens up immediately, and almost drops his phone.

"Miss Brooks, I promise, I wasn't-"

"Dude," I interrupt him. "Do I look like I care?"

He swallows, clearly unsure of the correct answer, glancing at Valentina behind me. He gives me a questioning look. "No?"

"Bingo." I turn to survey the room. It's divided into two sections. The restaurant; a collection of rectangular tables with various seating options, draped in white linen with gold embroidery. The area is relatively busy, and several waiters are flying around the room attending to the patrons. And then the bar, which primarily consists of a lot of barstools and a dozen booths placed behind a screen, with lower lighting, giving it a more pleasant feel. My eyes are drawn to a group of four guys sitting at one of the booths talking.

I turn to Harry. "Have you served them yet?" I gesture to the group with a jerk of my head.

He pales. "Well, no, but uhm, they just sat down, and-"

I roll my eyes. "Chillax. I'll do it."

The poor guy's eyebrows draw together, his eyes flying between Valentina and me like he can't figure out what to say. Technically, taking orders is not a part of my job, but I'm also his boss, so he can't exactly refuse me. In the end, he just nods and turns to the nearest customer to see if he can help him.

I turn to Valentina, who is watching the guys with a dreamy look in her eyes.

"Get back to the front desk, Val. I've got this."

"What?" She looks at me indignantly. "And keep me from meeting my future husband?"

"Aren't you supposed to marry a Muslim?" I ask, moving to get out on the other side of the bar, checking that my blue silk blouse and pencil skirt are presentable.

Another perk of being the assistant manager is that I don't have to wear the appalling uniform the bellhops are mandated to or the slightly better pants/dress option for the restaurant staff. I think there might have been a rule that claimed I should, but I changed it. Perks all around.

Including taking over serving a table when it's convenient for me.

"Please, if I bring home a man with a steady job, my parents will be over the moon." Valentina waves a hand dismissively in the air.

"I know this guy, Val. Just go man the desk," I say, shooing her away. She sticks her tongue out at me before walking back towards the lobby.

I slowly approach the booth, getting a better look at the four guys.

Jayden is just as attractive as last week. Today he is wearing a black hoodie with a pair of jeans. As a rule, I only do one-night stands since humans are attachment-seeking creatures who can rarely separate the physical from the emotional, but I might just make an exception for Jayden Sennels because hot damn.

I move my eyes to the guy sitting beside him and recognize him instantly. Another swimmer. Jen had been fawning over him a lot during the Olympic Games. David Davis. It is a god-awful name, and I have no idea what parents could name their kid something like that, but if anyone can make it work, it is him. Brown skin, buzz-cut black hair, and amazing bone structure. Maybe it is just a universal rule that all swimmers must be hot.

Case in point, if the next guy is also a swimmer. He looks unfamiliar but drop-dead gorgeous nonetheless. Tanned skin, long, dirty blond hair paired with a few inches of sandy-colored beard covering the bottom half of his face, and intense green eyes. Oh, and build like a freaking tank. Maybe he isn't a swimmer but some kind of bodybuilder.

The last in the line is, again, ridiculously good-looking. He's definitely buff, but he looks more lean and lanky compared to the three full-grown muscle men besides him. Like he hasn't fully filled out yet. He has chocolate brown hair and matching eyes. One of the other guys says something, and his face breaks out into a big, boyish grin, giving him a very youthful air. A sickening feeling hits me.

Please tell me you didn't just drool over jailbait, Sophie.

To get my mind off the fact that I potentially just sexualized a child, I avert my eyes back to Jayden.

Just as I approach, Jayden looks up and notices me. His blue eyes widen in surprise and recognition before they travel down my body quickly, landing on my black heels, and then move up to my face again, a familiar hunger in them.

"Trouble," he greets me with a crooked grin, making the three other guys turn my way.

"Jayden," I reply shortly, stopping a few feet from him and jutting out my hip.

"You work here?" he asks me.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" I give him a cheeky smile before turning my attention to the group, all of them looking back and forth between the two of us.

"Trouble, this is my team." Jayden makes a gesturing move towards the other men, but the way he says the word 'team' sounds foreign on his tongue. "This is Davis." He clasps the supermodel beside him on the shoulder affectionately.

"Hi," Davis offers, sending me a blinding smile that makes his dark eyes twinkle. Some people really just win the genetic lottery, don't they?

"And that's Mitchell," Jayden says, pointing towards the guy who looks like he should be a lifeguard on some exotic beach.

"Mitch," he interjects with a smirk, quickly giving me a once over.

Lastly, Jayden turns to the one who could have been an extra in High-School Musical across from him. "That's Saltz."

"Archer Salisbury," the Troy Bolton look-alike says, reaching out a hand to me.

I look down at the hand, making no move to shake it, before I glance up at him again, raising an eyebrow. "That sounds titular."

Baywatch beside him snorts a short laugh, just as Saltz mumble something under his breath that sounds an awful lot like the third.

I turn back to Jayden with a thin-lipped smile, tapping my pen against the block in my hand. "Lovely introduction, are you gonna order?"

"Isn't this the part where you say something like 'My name is... and I'm gonna be your server tonight?" He raises a challenging eyebrow, clearly enjoying his little powerplay.

I narrow my eyes. "What do you think the chances of that happening are from not until hell freezes over to when pigs fly?"

"She's feisty," the blond beauty says with an approving look.

"And hot," the middle-schooler adds.

I turn to frown at him, just as a dull thud is heard under the table, followed by a wince of pain and a curse from Casanova.

"Watch it, rookie," Jayden warns.

Mitch is watching the two guys with evident amusement, his eyes zeroing in on Jayden. "Getting a little possessive?"

Jayden ignores him, staring at the young guy with a hard look. Davis's eyes move from me to Jayden before gliding over to the kid.

"I'd listen to him," he says evenly.

Saltz looks kind of dejected but shrugs it off.

"Okay, while this has been entertaining, and I'm sure there are plenty of psychiatrists who would love to observe your group dynamic, I really have to get back to work." I tap the block for good measure turning back to Jayden.

His eyes release Saltz and flit up to me, amusement filling them. "You do? Doing what?" he asks.

"Literally anything other than this. Drinks?"

"Fine," he huffs. "I would like a glass of your most expensive whiskey."

I try giving him my most unimpressed look, but it's hard fighting the grin threatening to spread over my face. "You'll be paying this time." I wink at him. "You?" I ask Davis.

"An ice tea, please."

"Long-island edition?" I begin scribbling it down on my notepad, but his words stop me.

"Just regular will be fine."

"Right," I say, moving on, wondering what made him such a goody-two-shoes. I raise an eyebrow at the surfer in the corner.

"A large beer," Mitch says, rubbing a hand over his beard, the slight tug at the corner of his lips telling me he knows exactly what that does to a woman.

"I can do that," I reply before turning to the last in the line, sighing.

"I would like a beer, too," he says with as much confidence as he can muster.

"Yeah, sorry, kid, but I'm gonna need to see some ID." I tap my acrylic nails against my palm, regarding him, unimpressed.

"But you didn't ask any of them for ID," he says, looking like I just did him a great injustice.

I gesture towards Baywatch beside him. "Well, with that beard, he could be sixteen, and I would still serve him." I point to Davis. "And in case you didn't know, there isn't actually alcohol in normal ice tea."

"What about Sennels?" he keeps pushing his luck.

I glance at Jayden, who's looking all smug. "Well, I don't need to ask Jayden for ID. I know he's of legal drinking age."

"And how's that?" Seriously, does this kid not have a mute button? He sounds like he never left the 'why'-era of childhood.

I look him dead in the eyes. "Because I don't screw children." Mitch lets out a short howl of laughter. I glance at Jayden, who's smirking, relaxing back in his seat. I look back to Saltz. "Sorry, Kid."

Then I turn on my heels and march away.

"You didn't take my order," Saltz yells after me.

"Yeah, I'll just get you a soda-pop," I call back over my shoulder before sauntering up to the bar at the end of the room, feeling four pairs of eyes on me.

Valentina is standing behind it again, her elbows resting on the countertop, her head propped up in her hands, a dreamy look in her eyes as she watches the group of guys.

"Are you, like, completely star-struck right now?" she asks me, without even bothering to lift her head.

I roll my eyes, tapping my nails against the counter. "They're just guys."

"With bodies like gods," she sighs.

"Val," I snap my fingers in front of her face, finally breaking her out of her daze. "If you go back to the lobby and do your job, I might let you bring them their bill later."

"Really?" She looks like I just offered her a puppy and fifty million dollars.

"Yup." I throw her a pointed look, and she hurries away, calling a thanks over her shoulder.

I gesture for Harry to come over. "What is our cheapest whiskey?"

He looks behind him for a second, scanning the rows. "Jack Daniels."

"Perfect. One of those on the rocks, a beer, a virgin ice tea, and whatever we usually serve children."

"Coke?"

I wait for Harry to get their order. I should probably be doing my job like I told Jayden I would, but something about seeing him interact with his friends is too tempting to pass up.

I take the tray with drinks and stroll back to their booth, gliding into the seat beside Jayden. He looks over, surprised, but quickly collects himself, letting his arm rest on the back of the seat behind me.

"Everybody's got what they need?" I ask the group, smiling my best customer service smile.

Saltz is right across from me, and he's about to speak up when I pin him with a look. "Not you, Troy."

He looks horribly offended by that, but the other guys chuckle, grabbing their drinks.

"Was that a High School Musical reference?" Jayden whispers, his breath ghosting the shell of my ear, making me shiver.

I nod. "Mhmm." I glance at him with a smirk. "Enjoying your whiskey?"

Our faces are very close, so close I can see the white speckles in his bright blue eyes, like foam on waves in a great big ocean. His breath hitches and my eyes fall to his lips. They're parted slightly, quickly drawing in a gulp of air. "Yeah," his voice isn't much above a whisper. He clears his throat. "It's good... very, uh... whiskey-y."

It's downright difficult not to snort, and the tension between us is broken as I lean back a bit. I kind of had the idea that Jayden knew nothing about whiskey, and his answer just confirmed that.

"Really?" I muse, picking up the glass in front of him, twirling it around in my hand, before I bring it to my lips and take a sip, keeping my eyes on Jayden. He swallows, his eyes locked on the action. As I put it down, only just managing not to wince at the cheap liquid, I send him my most devilish smile, leaning over to whisper in his ear. "Because a bottle is like twenty-five dollars."

It takes a second for my words and the meaning behind them to sink in, and then Jayden lets out a surprised laugh. I pull back, biting my lip to keep from grinning.

He's shaking his head lightly, but there's a smile in his eyes as he looks back at me, one of his hands sliding up my leg until it reaches the hem of my skirt. "You really are trouble, aren't you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" It's a challenge, and I know he notices it before I avert my attention to the other boys at the table.

They are all talking amongst themselves. Davis glances around the table and catches me watching. He keeps smiling, but his eyes are wary like he doesn't know what to make of me just yet.

"How long have you been swimming together?" I ask no one in particular.

Jaydens hand on my leg glides up over my skirt a bit. "Technically, we haven't yet," Mitch says, shrugging like that's not a super weird answer.

"What do you mean?"

"Our coaches just assembled us as a medley team today," Davis explains, and I nod thoughtfully.

Jayden chuckles hoarsely, leaning in closer. "You have no idea what a medley team is, do you?"

I shake my head. "Not even in the slightest."

"We are going to swim relays together at competitions and such," Saltz says excitedly. "I'll start with back crawl and then-"

He's cut off by a voice calling my name. "Sophie?"

I turn to look at the man watching me. He's in a pressed dark gray suit, like always, his hair gelled to the sides parted down the middle, and his hands are moving restlessly.

"Yes, Mr. Dawson?" I answer Poul politely, and I notice his ears turning a bit red like he was just caught doing something wrong.

It's at this moment that the guys all turn to see who captured my interest; I can feel Jaydens other hand land on my waist, almost possessively. Paul's eyes widen at realizing who I'm sitting with, and the fidgeting kicks up a nudge.

"Right, Miss Brooks... Uh, don't you have work to do?" He sounds so uncomfortable like he's somehow overstepping some big boundary by asking me to do my job, despite, in fact, being my boss.

But the thing about Paul Dawson is, ever since I walked through those big flashy doors three years ago, he's desperately been trying to sleep with me, and while that is gross I've decided to use it to my advantage. Like meeting late or mingling with the customers without as much as a slap over the wrist.

I have a good incentive not to succumb to his less than subtle attempts at seducing me because men like that tend to turn into grade-A assholes the second they get what they want.

Not that I need a reason not to have sex with him. Besides being at least fifteen years older than me, he's also always given me the impression that he's the kind of guy who folds his socks before having very polite, extremely boring sex with you. That just doesn't really do it for me.

"How right you are," I say with a smile as I rise to my feet, and he nods curtly, eyes flitting back to the guys at the table, especially Davis and Mitch.

"Is there anything I can do for you," he asks them, straightening his back a bit.

They all shake their heads, and Paul starts walking away, looking a bit confused, like he's not sure where to go from here.

I pull in air through my nose before I turn so I'm facing the guys. "Duty calls," I say. "Now, I hope you'll enjoy the rest of your night, and in case my young and very excited colleague asks for your autographs while bringing your bill, please bear with her."

I walk into the lobby, leaning against the front desk, where Valentina slumps in her chair, looking utterly bored. "Hi, Sophie, what's up?"

"It's gonna be a long night if you're already out of things to do," I point out, picking up one of the pink stick-it notes stuck to the computer screen. When I turn it to read, all it says is Hot swimmers.

"I know," Val sighs, grabbing the note from me and staring at it wistfully.

I roll my eyes with a smile. "I told Harry to get you when the guys want their bill."

"Really?" That perks her right up, and her huge grin is back.

"Only if you think you can manage it without falling into bed with one of them?"

"You have such