Wings: Chapter Four

Aaron's P.O.V.

I stepped into the storage room, the only place where it was fresh in this hellhole, sighing in relief at the cool breeze blowing in through the vent. I always came here on my break. It was always kind of ridiculous to me about how hectic and chaotic this place got at times, and I was grateful that my break started during the rush hour, when things got most busy around here. My friend Cam had the same luck, but for some reason, he was still in the kitchen, taking food to the tables.
I took a look outside in the kitchen through the crack in the open door, and I found myself observing Elena once she barged in through the doors.
Max, another waiter that worked here, handed her a notepad. “I already brought out the drinks to Table 7. You take the orders.”
She shrugged and walked back out. She came back two minutes later asking for an order of fries along with a hamburger. She brought orders in and out, and it fascinated me how easily she could handle it, even though she’d only been working here a short period of time now.
I chuckled as I popped a gum in my mouth.
Elena suddenly rushed in, grabbing a fistful of straws from a box and sticking them in her pocket. She then looked behind a few boxes and pulled out the bag of sugar. I noticed she was beginning to pour it into the salt container and chuckled.
“That’s not salt,” I sighed, shaking my head. She’d been here for a few months now, and she’d learned fast, but yet she still couldn’t tell the difference between the salt and the sugar. I held back a smile as I realized that such an independent woman still couldn’t completely get the hang of things.
She dipped her finger in the bag and licked it. Her eyes narrowed as she put the bag back on the shelf. I thought quick and locked the door with my key while she searched for the salt.
When she turned to leave and saw me blocking the door, she sighed. “Move, Aaron, I need to get this to Table 4.”
“Good luck,” I said under my breath as I moved over. When the door wouldn’t budge, she slammed the salt container on the shelf next to her and faced me, hands on those perfect hips of hers. “No games, today, Aaron, please. I’m not in the mood.”
“Oh, Skye,” I said sympathetically. “You need to relax. You know what they say about all work and no play…” I smirked.
“Give it a break already,” she almost growled.
“You know what you have to do to get out of here. And, no, it’s not saying the magic word.”
*Gives You Hell*
I hooked my finger inside her jean’s belt flap so she couldn’t pull away. Her jaw set as I leaned in and kissed her fiercely.
Her lips were as soft as I remembered them. There was no flavor like there always had been, it was just her and her bare, feather-like lips. I moaned as I kept my mouth pressed hard against hers.
I felt a pinch on my lower lip. I leaned away slowly and ran my tongue over it. “Did you just bite me?”
She smiled and held up my key and rattled them in my face. “I suggest you never try that again unless you want to get locked in here.”
I licked my lip again. “That depends: will you be locked in with me?”
She rolled her eyes and unlocked the door. When she came back to grab the salt she’d left on the shelf, she froze and took a gum out of her mouth.
I smirked. “Want to give it back?”
She scoffed at me as she threw the gum down on the ground.
Ouch.