It’s been a week since my birthday, a week since that amazing birthday present happened. Tristan and I haven’t taken things further, only sharing a few kisses and spending a lot of time laughing. With each smile, touch, exchange, I feel myself getting more lost in him. In us. And, while it’s in no way like what I had with Conner, I fear I’ll lose myself in someone again.
So I fight the battle.
Of falling too deeply.
But with each breath.
Kiss.
Touch.
I tumble farther.
Into the unknown.
Desperate to hold on.
Yet desperate to let go.
It’s Sunday evening. In just an hour, I’ll be heading to the beach for my “grownup birthday party” as Charissa put it. I’m nervous. Excited. A cluster f**k of emotions. The mom in me feels guilty for not only leaving Mason for the night, but for making Jax babysit. I did manage to get Mason a spot in daycare three times a week to give Jax a breather and go be an eighteen-year-old. It’s going to kill me financially, but after a lot of deliberating, I’ve decided to ask Benny to start paying me for the accounting work, like Tristan suggested, at least until I get a new job. I have a couple of interviews lined up over the couple of weeks, but I’m nervous, because they’re better than the other jobs I’ve had in the past. One is for a manager position at a restaurant and the other is for a secretary at a local dealership. I’m crossing my fingers that I’m good enough to be considered for the positions and double-crossing my fingers that I’ll be able to handle a nine to five job. I figure it won’t be any worse than my schedule now; the extra work hours can just replace the time I spend at the Habitat home, which will be finished up in a month.
“So when should I pick you up?” Tristan asks as he strolls over to the bar counter. Sundays are usually a happy medium between weekdays and weekends. Today there’s a handful of the rowdier crew playing pool and a small group performing karaoke—just enough customers that the staff doesn’t get bored, but also enough we don’t have time to chat with each other too much. This is the first opportunity Tristan and I have gotten to converse, so I’ve yet to ask him what the hell was up with the random text he sent me last night.
“If you want, we can just leave from here,” I say as I sweep the floor behind the counter. “I brought my stuff and everything. I just have to chat with Benny before we leave.”
He props his elbows on the countertop and leans over to not-so-discreetly check out my ass. “About what?”
“About paying me for the accounting work from now on.” I balance the broom against the wall and start stacking the clean cups up on top of each other.
“Good,” he says straightforwardly. “You shouldn’t be doing that shit for free.”
“I know,” I wholeheartedly agree. “I just hope he sees it that way.”
“Well, if he doesn’t, then you shouldn’t do it anymore. In fact, I think you should tell him he not only has to pay you extra for the accounting work, but that you’re not going to dance on the counter anymore.”
“I have to do that.” I grab a rag from a drawer below the beer tap. “I need the money… But I did apply for a couple of jobs recently that don’t require shaking my ass. I have a few interviews over the next couple of weeks.” When he grins, excited for me, I add, “Don’t get too excited yet. I still have to get hired for one of them… and I’m a little doubtful that’s going to happen.”
“Avery, you’re a smart girl. Too smart to be doing that shit. In fact, you should have already been working somewhere else, somewhere better, and I’m sure there’s a ton of people that will want to hire you—a ton of people that will want you.”
I’m no longer sure if he’s talking about the job anymore.
My hair veils my face as I wipe the countertop down. “I’ve done some pretty dumb stuff in my life and working here doesn’t even come close to the worst of it. And if I have to keep working at the bar, then I will. It’s probably where I belong anyway.”
He sighs. “Well, my money is that in a few weeks, you’ll be putting all of this behind you.” He glances at the clock on the wall behind me and then moves his arms away from the counter. “I brought my swim shorts with me, so whenever you’re ready, we can go.”
“Wait, what car are we driving?”
“I borrowed Nova’s.” He grins as he reaches over and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “You didn’t think I was going to let you drive on our first official date, did you?”
“We’ve been on dates,” I protest. “A few of them.”
He nibbles on his bottom lip, making me think about how amazing those lips are, how many times I’ve tasted them, how I want to taste them right now. “Hanging out at the motel and your house doesn’t count. We’re never alone. And as much as I love spending time with Nova and Quinton or Mason and Jax, we technically haven’t done the alone thing yet.”
“It counts in my book,” I say flatly as I put out a few bowls of peanuts onto the countertop. “And I don’t have much time for alone time.”
“I know.” He cups my cheek and gently smoothes his thumb over my cheekbone. “And I’m not saying you have to spend a bunch of time alone with me. I’m only saying I’m driving tonight. It’ll give us time to talk.”
“About the thing you texted me last night? Because that’s been driving me crazy.”
The concern in his expression makes my stomach churn. What could he possibly want to talk to me about that has him worried like that?
“I know and I’m sorry.” His neck muscles work as he forces a lump down in his throat. “I just needed to text you so I would go through with it… So, please, will you let me drive us?”
I surrender, throwing my hands up in the air. “Fine, let me go back and talk to Benny real quick, and then we can hit the road. Charissa’s been texting me like crazy, wondering when we’re headed out there. She’ll probably only stop when I say we’re on our way.”
“Okay, see you in a few,” he offers me a tired smile before turning on his heels. But he spins back around and shovels a handful of peanuts from the bowl. “And, Avery, good luck.” His lips tug to a smile then he stuffs the peanuts in his mouth.
“Thanks,” I say with an uneven breath. “I’m going to need it.”
Once he’s out of the bar, I tell Tammy, the other bartender working today, that I’m getting ready to leave. Then I collect my purse, trudge upstairs, and rap on Benny’s office door. I’m super nervous to the point where I worry I’m going to have to use my purse for a barf bag. Before I can empty my stomach, though, Benny calls me in.
I square my shoulders before I enter. “Hey,” I greet him with a confident smile, even though I’m a bundle of nerves.
He peers up from the stack of folders and ruffled stack of papers in front of him, a smile curving at his lips. “Hey, Avery. I thought you were leaving for your birthday thing.”
“I am.” I grip the handle of my purse as I make my way past the metal filing cabinet and to the desk. “But I need to talk to you about something first.”
“Of course.” He scoots the folders aside and signals for me to have a seat, so I plop my ass down on the leather chair in front of his desk. “You can talk to me about anything.”
“I hope that’s true.” I cough to clear my throat. “I’ll just get straight to the point. I think I should start being paid for doing the extra accounting stuff and payroll I’ve been doing for the last couple of months.”
Apparently, when he meant I could talk to him about anything, he meant anything but a raise, because his kind expression promptly turns unfriendly. “I don’t think that’s possible. The bar’s really struggling.”
“Well, considering I keep track of your profits, I know that’s not true,” I tell him, irked that he’s flat out lying to me.
“Yeah, but I’ve got loans to pay off and a lot of debt, and a raise just isn’t possible.” He reclines in the chair and puts his hands behind his head. “Now, what you could do is dance a little bit more. That always brings in a lot of cash flow for me.”
“I don’t want to do that.” My tone is clipped. “I don’t even like doing it three times a week.”
“And I find that strange. It didn’t seem to bother you until recently, and it’s got me wondering why. What’s changed that you care so much about simply dancing on a counter? Or why you’re suddenly up here asking for more money when you never have before?”
“Nothing’s changed… I just feel like I should be paid for the work I do. And I’ve always hated dancing.”
He lowers his hands and sits up in the chair. “You know what I think? I think that all of this might stem from a new guy in your life.”
I give him a blank stare. “This isn’t about Tristan. He doesn’t even care what I do.” It’s a lie, but Benny doesn’t know that.
“I doubt that,” he replies, annoyed. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“I don’t want to have this conversation with you. I just came up here to ask if I could have a raise.”
“Well, if that’s all you want, then the answer is no,” he says tersely. “I’m sorry. I really wish I could, but it’s out of my hands right now. But perhaps in a few months or so.”
“Okay, then.” I rise from the chair, wanting to say more, put him in his place, but that would be risking mine and Tristan’s jobs so, I keep my mouth zipped.
“Avery.”
My muscles ravel into tight knots as I twist back around to face him. “Yes?”
As he stands from his chair and crosses the room in calculated strides, I suddenly feel like a cornered cat. Images of fire flash vividly through my mind.
“I know you’re under a lot of stress over money and Conner being out of jail.” He halts in front of me and gives my shoulder a squeeze. “I’m here for you. Whether it’s to talk or not.” He glances at my lips and then he dares a peek at my cle**age before his gaze skates back up to my face again. “I could help take care of you, you know. In fact, I’d love to.”
I’m not sure what he’s implying or how exactly he’ll take care of me, but I don’t give a shit. I just want to get out of this damn office so I can breathe again because the walls are closing in, melting away.
Everything was on fire, including me, and I deserved to burn.
“Thanks,” I say, thankful my voice is steady. Then I reach behind my back and fumble for the doorknob. “I have to go. I have that party to go to.”
He doesn’t move away, so I have to squeeze past him to leave. Once I’m out the door, I practically sprint down the stairs, customers gawking at me as I run across the bar toward the front door. Outside, I hunch over and inhale the fresh evening air as tears gush from my eyes.
“God f**king dammit,” I curse as I sniffle back the tears.
“Avery, what’s wrong?” Tristan asks from somewhere close by.
I stiffen. I should have had my meltdown somewhere where he couldn’t see me. “It’s nothing.” I hurry and rub the tears away with my hand then stand upright.
Tristan’s walking across the parking lot, past the parked cars and trucks with his eyes tuned on me. He’s changed into a grey T-shirt and black board shorts with a stripe down the side.
“What did he say to you?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I shake my shoulders out. Shake it off, Avery. Shake it off. “Let’s just go to the party.”
When he nears me, his gaze deliberately scrolls up my body as if he’s checking for visible injuries. “Did he touch you?”
“What!” I cry. “God, no, it wasn’t anything like that. I mean, he put a hand on my shoulder, but—”
“I’m going to punch him in the face,” Tristan growls, scaring the bejesus out of me. Then he strides past me for the entrance door of The Vibe.
I catch his sleeve and haul him back to me. “Easy, Mr. Testosterone. You don’t need to go start a fight so we can both lose our jobs.”
“But he made you cry.” He gapes at me like that explains his irrational need to punch our boss in the face.
“He’s not the first guy to do that, Tristan,” I sadly remind him. “And I hate fighting whether it’s called for or not.”
His hot-blooded gaze simmers down. “I know… but… I just don’t want anyone to hurt you. Ever. You’ve already been hurt enough.”
His words strike my heart.
Split it apart.
And my soul ruptures out.
I want to kiss him.
“Kiss me now,” I whisper with need so passionately hot I swear I’ll burn to death if I can’t taste his lips.
His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t hesitate, stealing the small space between us with a simple stride. Our bodies connect as our lips weld together with the faint glow of the sunset flowing over us. Tristan drowns me in warmth, and by the time we pull away, I can barely remember what upset me to begin with.
“Ready to go?” I ask, gasping for air as our lips part.
Panting, he glances over at The Vibe then reluctantly looks back at me. “If that’s what you want to do.”
Nodding, I clasp our fingers together, glad he gave in to what I wanted. “Yes, please.”