evie

“Hey creeper,” I whisper as I glance up at him from the kitchen sink where I’m scrubbing remnants of paint from my skin. “Did you enjoy the show earlier?”

“I did,” he chuckles low, reaching for a glass from the cupboard above my head. “I had no idea you were such a huge George Michael fan.”

“Um, obviously,” I say, shutting the water off before reaching for a hand towel. “He’s a motherfucking legend, but that doesn’t mean you get to creeper stalk a person.”

“First of all, I think you’re playing it pretty loose and fast with the word legend,” he disagrees. “He was good, but he was no Mercury or Bowie,” he shakes his head, smirking when I roll my eyes. “Second of all, I wasn’t creeper stalking you. I was looking for Mason and I happened to find you instead.”

“Whatever,” I roll my eyes. “I just feel like you need to know how disturbing it is to find out someone is leering at you from a doorway,” I counter. “You shouldn’t do that to people.”

“Hey!” he says, raising his eyebrow. “Stop trying to tie me down to your lover boy rules,” he smirks. “I do what I want.”

“I hate you,” I lie, reluctantly chuckling at his reference. “Leave George Michael out of this. He’s been nothing but good to us.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves me off, glancing out of the doorway to make sure Mason’s out of earshot. “You comin’ over after my shift?”

“Yeah, but I’ll have to come over late and leave early,” I say low. “Mason asked me to stick around since I’m leaving tomorrow night. He wants to hang out.”

He nods, eyes still trained on the doorway as Mason makes his way down the stairs.

“No problem,” he says, lifting his glass to his lips. “I’ll figure something out.”

He discreetly brushes his fingertips over my waist before moving away from me and settling onto the couch beside my brother.

I was already excited to see him later, but a piece of me could already feel the nerves beginning to fill my stomach.

I hadn’t figured much out while I was finishing my piece before, but I did know one thing.

I’m leaving tomorrow night, so if I was having this conversation with Dash, it would have to be soon.

I’m running out of time.

***

After Dash left, Mason, my mom and I all had supper together, just like old times. It was great to spend some quality time with them, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss hearing the snide remarks and witty comebacks I’d grown used to hearing from across the table.

Mason had taken the weekend off, but with little else to do in the area, we’d still ended up making the decision to stop by the bar for a few hours. I’d acted like I couldn’t care less, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

Less than three hours had passed since Dash left and already, I could feel the dull ache in my chest that came from missing him.

I change quickly, throwing on a short skirt and a tight sweater, pairing it with the fitted, brown leather bomber jacket Mason had given me for Christmas. It matches the knee-high boots Dash had given me shit over on the way home from the airport just perfectly and as I pull them on, I can’t help but smile.

When we walk into the bar, it’s already packed. In fact, I’m not sure I’d ever seen this many people fit into the small pub in all the years we’d been coming.

Mason lets out a long, low whistle when he sees how many patrons have come in and after helping me make my way across the room, he jumps behind the bar, grabbing himself a beer.

“Up!” he shouts across the bar, pissing off a regular and clearing a stool for me in the process. “Evie, sit!” he calls out, pointing to the seat and making me smirk.

Dash is in full-blown drink-slinging mode, his muscular biceps damp with liquor, his brow glistening with the sheen of sweat beneath the dull, green glow of the lights.

He’s in his zone right now, but when he hears Mason call my name, he risks a glance up, taking me in and shooting me a conspicuous wink across the bar.

“You need any help, man?” Mason calls over to him and he points to something, yelling out something I can’t quite hear over the noise. “Alright, man. Watch my sister!” Mason orders and after a quick nod, my brother disappears into the stock room, giving Dash the freedom to make his way over, his eyes raking over me.

“Nice boots,” he smiles, his lips quirking up on one side, making my chest flurry. “You want something?” he asks, making me nod. I’m about to say what, but he turns, coming back a moment later and sliding my favorite, an amaretto and cranberry with three cherries, over the bar and shooting me a wink as his eyes settle on the red lipstick I’d freshened only minutes ago. “I like that lipstick on you.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” he nods, his voice slightly husky. “I can think of a few places on me it’d look even better.”

The rest of the night goes like that, Dash and I ignoring each other until Mason disappears for a moment and we can gawk and flirt over the bar while he hands me drinks. By the time the rush begins to slowly die out, my limbs are heavy, my spirits light.

“So, did you make a decision yet about New York?” Mason finally asks, although I’d known he’d been thinking about it all night.

I glance over to find him turned to face me, one elbow on the bar while his eyebrows crinkled in brotherly concern. His eyes aren’t the only ones I feel on me and as I swallow hard, I try my best to keep my voice low, not ready to face either of them.

“I’m still thinking about it,” I try, not surprised by the disappointment marring his features as he shakes his head. “Mason, I don’t have to give them an answer until May and it’s a contract position,” I offer, but my words do little to sway his expression. “I just want to make sure I’m making the right decision.”

“Evie!” he starts, but I know I’m not ready for this argument.

With the way my heart is swaying right now, I know it’s inevitable, but I also know this argument is not one I need an audience for, especially not Dash who I’ve not even mentioned New York to. I should just say all of this, obviously leaving Dash’s name out of the mix, but I don’t. Instead, I take the cowards way out and grab my purse.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” I say quietly, watching him nod silently as he bites his lip, holding in the tongue-lashing he wants to release and I know I deserve. “I’ll be back in a second, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” he sighs, turning back toward the bar as I slip away.

I’m not even around the corner before the tears begin to threaten.