Chapter Twenty-Seven
Michael
Paige had been acting strange lately, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was. She was hardly speaking to me, and I wondered if that meant she had already decided she was going to keep this baby. Maybe she had decided as soon as those pink lines showed up on the pregnancy test. But she didn't know how to tell me.
I swallowed hard. To be honest, I wouldn't know what to say in response to that, now that I was also having second thoughts about taking the child away from what could potentially be such a love-filled upbringing.
I wanted to ask her about it, but she was so closed-off toward me I wasn't sure how to approach her about it. I thought that if I surprised her at the bar Wednesday night, I could take her home, and we could talk. I hadn't thought about the fact that Erica might be with her. Even so, I still had hoped that she might agree to come with me. I would still have dropped Erica off at home, and then Paige and I would have had some privacy.
But Paige hadn't wanted to go home with me.
I remembered what she had said about wanting to stick to the terms of the contract, about how we were just hanging out because we had been trying to get her pregnant. I wondered if maybe, now she, she really wouldn't have anything more to do with me. It was strange to think she wouldn't want to; we were friendly, whenever we did get together. But she really seemed to want nothing more to do with me.
Chris, of course, wanted to go to Thirsty Thursday again. “Come on, man,” he said over the phone. “I need a wingman.”
I wanted to tell Chris that Paige was pregnant but I wasn't ready for him to know yet. Especially not since I was still worried that Paige was going to want to keep the child. But maybe going to Thirsty Thursdays was a good thing. There was nothing that said I had to hook up with anyone, and it would give me a chance to see Paige and maybe talk to her a little.
“All right, all right,” I agreed. “I'll meet you there.”
“That's the spirit,” Chris said.
The first thing I noticed when we got to The Shift that night was how hot Paige looked. She had on tight jeans that hung low on her hips and a sheer, cream-colored top, with a black lacy bra underneath it.
Chris clapped me on the shoulder. “All right, I see there will be no dragging you away from here for at least a little while,” he said, nodding towards Paige, who, fortunately, was helping someone where she should be out of ear shot. “I'm going to go chat with that girl over there. See you later.”
“Sorry I'm not a better wingman right now,” I told him, feeling apologetic. But Chris just waved off my apologies.
I watched him for a moment as he chatted, suddenly struck by the realization that I was glad to not be there, doing that anymore. I had always thought I was enjoying myself, when I was at the bar trying to pick up some random chick. You know, the thrill of the chase and all of that. But when I really thought of it, it hadn't been that much fun. The end game had been fun, maybe, but not the chase. And when I thought more about it, I wasn't even sure the end game was much fun. I preferred being with Paige, whose body I was really starting to know. It was exciting, being with her again and again. She was the sexiest girl that I'd ever been with, despite the fact she wasn't a one-night stand.
Then again, she involved just as much chase as a one-night stand, or maybe even more.
I suddenly realized I wasn't the only person eyeing up Paige. There was another dude, down at the far end of the bar, who was eyeing her even more intently, his eyes skimming her behind every time she bent down to grab a clean glass. And even when she was standing up, it was like he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
I scowled, wondering who he was and whether he knew her. I knew Paige had a past, and I bet that she'd gone home with some of the guys from the bar before. There was no reason to think that one of those guys would never show up here again. But I didn't like it.
I had to wonder why Paige was still working there, and I wondered if I could say anything about it. She didn't need to work there anymore. I had given her the first half of the money, just like the contract had stipulated. I wasn't sure I wanted her around all these guys.
But there was nothing in the contract that said she had to quit working there, she just had to take care of herself. I might be able to say something about her not getting enough sleep, but as long as she wasn't drinking, I couldn't say much to her. I frowned, wishing suddenly that I'd thought of this before I'd drawn up the contract. Now, it felt like I was overstepping if I told her I didn't want her working here anymore. Especially since I was sure part of it was she just wanted to spend time around Erica.
I wondered suddenly if I could talk to Erica, convince her that Paige shouldn't be working there anymore. But if talking to Paige was overstepping, talking to Erica about it no doubt was. Ultimately, it was Paige's decision.
Still, I couldn't seem to quit feeling unhappy about the way this guy was looking at Paige.
“Who's that guy?” I asked Paige as she came down to my end of the bar and got me a drink. She wasn't avoiding me, but she wasn't acting particularly friendly towards me, not like she used to.
Paige barely glanced over at the guy; she obviously knew who I was talking about. “He's just some guy,” she told me.
“Do you know him?” I asked.
Paige rolled her eyes. “Not that it's any of your business, but no,” she said. “He's just some drunk. He comes in here every so often.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, wondering if there wasn't more to the story than that. Because from the way the guy was staring at her, there was. Plus, it was there in the way she kept glancing over at him out of the corner of her eye. Yes, something was going on here. But it wasn't my place to pry.
“Do you want to go home with me tonight?” I suddenly asked her.
She was pouring another guy a beer, but her grip on the tap faltered for a moment. Then, she looked over at me. “Yeah,” she said.
I was surprised: I had expected her to decline. I wondered if her agreement had to do with the guy, or if it had to do with the fact that she could tell that we needed to talk about things sooner, rather than later. We couldn't keep going on like this. I couldn't keep talking to her like this around her work.
I nodded a little to myself and took a sip of my drink, continuing to watch her. She had gone back to ignoring me, but she wasn't ignoring the other guy, I realized. Instead, she kept looking at him even more, almost as though she was uneasy about his presence. I wanted to get one of the bouncers and have the guy thrown out, but I didn't know the whole story, and anyway, I was sure that they had more important things to deal with on a busy night like this.
After another half hour of watching this guy stare at her, basically drooling over her, I realized I couldn’t just let him do that. I knew it was overstepping, but I’d had enough. I approached one of the bouncers by the door. The bouncer was a big, bald man who was at least twice my size.
“Hey man,” I said.
“The fuck you want?” the bouncer asked.
I put my hands up to let him know I had no intentions to start trouble. “I just thought I’d let you know, there’s a guy sitting at the bar that is making the bartenders pretty uncomfortable. I’ve been here at least two hours, and the whole time he’s just been staring at them. They don’t even want to deal with him.”
The bouncer looked over. “Damn. I kick him out every single time he is here. I’ve got this.”
I walked back over and sat down. I hoped Paige hadn’t seen me talking to the bouncer. If she had she didn’t mention it. I watched as the bouncer escorted the guy out and Paige instantly relaxed. That really bothered me.
I didn't leave the bar for the whole night, even when Chris tried to drag me over to meet a couple women. I felt bad about it. Chris had brought me here because he needed a wingman. But he seemed to hear something in my voice or see it in my eyes, and he didn't protest.
“All right, man,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Good luck.”
Good luck? I only hoped I wouldn't need it.