Chapter Thirty-Six
Paige
On Thursday, Erica and I were setting up the bar and getting ready to open. I had been feeling so down. I couldn’t wrap my head around my thoughts and feelings toward Michael. Let alone get a grip on my emotions. The hormones were making them bounce all over the place. One minute I was happy and excited, laughing about something, and the next second I’m crying over something stupid.
I was standing behind the bar, cleaning the glasses and getting them set up for the customers that would be piling inside the bar in just under an hour. Erica was putting out all the chairs that had been stacked the previous night so the floors could get mopped.
I had only been there twenty minutes, and I felt exhausted.
Erica finished with putting the chairs out and walked behind the bar. She looked at me and turned around, opening the mini fridge under the counter we had for our personal drinks.
“Talk to me,” she said, handing me a bottle of seltzer water. My newest favorite obsession since finding out I was pregnant. I didn’t drink enough water before my pregnancy. I needed water with a pizazz to make sure I drank enough now.
I sighed and took a sip. But I had barely swallowed it before I started crying. The tears were streaming out of my eyes before I could even try to stop them.
“Oh sweetie,” Erica said, pulling me into her arms. “Talk to me,” she repeated, her voice even softer.
“I think I'm in love with Michael,” I admitted, clinging to her. “But I've never felt this way before.”
It was weird how saying this aloud, to someone, made it feel so much more real.
“That's not a bad thing though, is it?” Erica asked. She shook her head. “I've never seen you like this before, so upset. Especially not over a guy. You must really like him.”
“I do,” I admitted. “But I'm scared.”
“What are you scared of?” Erica asked. “That he doesn't like you back? Because honey, if that's what you're afraid of, you're an idiot. Sorry to tell you that, but it's true. I've never seen a guy as head-over-heels as Michael is for you.”
“He told me he loved me,” I reminded her.
“Just checking to make sure that you remembered and that it wasn't just some weird dream,” Erica said, winking at me. “So, tell me, what are you afraid of?”
“I don't know,” I admitted. “He told me I had to tell him by tonight if I had feelings for him as well, or else he was going to walk away.”
Erica was silent for a long moment. “I think he's bluffing,” she finally said. “I don't think he would really have it in him to walk away. He can't keep his hands off you, remember? And even on the nights you guys don't have anything planned, he's here, at The Shift, waiting to take you home.”
“What if he just wants the baby, and he's just telling me he loves me?” I asked.
Erica's eyes widened. “Oh Paige,” she said. “He couldn't fake this, not the way I've seen it,” she said. “And it's okay to feel scared. When you feel scared, that's when you know it's real.”
“But what if it isn't real?” I asked. I knew I sounded like a crazy person. But I just couldn’t help it. These were the thoughts I had all the time. It was consuming me.
“Then you deal with that when you get to it, I guess,” Erica said, frowning at me as though she was trying to figure me out. She was quiet for a long moment. “I know the baby’s complicating all of this, but don't you think you're making things too difficult for yourself?” she asked softly. “It's okay if you just like someone, want to have a little fun, and see where it takes you.”
I blinked at her. “But doesn't it hurt when someone breaks up with you?” I asked. Then, I frowned. “But it doesn't for you, does it? You bounce back so easily. You're dating someone new the next night.”
Erica sighed. “Is that what you think?” she asked. “How many pints of ice cream, how many gallons of ice cream, have we worked our way through over the years?” When I didn't answer, she continued. “Of course, it hurts me, just like it hurts anyone,” she told me. “I'm not crazy. But I move past it, and I just keep figuring if it doesn't work out, then there must be someone better out there for me.”
“But what if there isn't?” I asked.
Erica grinned. “Then hopefully I never know it,” she said simply. “Hopefully I keep dating not-so-great guys until I kick the bucket. And if none of them stick, well. At least I'll have gotten a few free meals out of it.”
I stared at her for a long moment, startled enough that I quit crying. Then, I had to laugh. “You're crazy,” I told her fondly.
“And you're a great girl,” Erica said firmly. “If Michael can't see that, then fuck him. If he doesn't want to be around you and your baby, then fuck him. I'll be Auntie Erica, I'll spoil the squirt mercilessly, and every once in a while, we'll dump the kid on your mother for the day and have a spa day, just you and I.”
I smiled at her. “You're the best,” I said, feeling tears in the corners of my eyes again. We embraced, and then there was the sound of people coming into the bar. Our first customers of the evening had arrived.
“I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” I told her as they began to file in, making their way over to the bar. “Just five minutes.”
Erika nodded at me, and I headed toward the bathroom in the back of the bar. When I walked inside, I looked at myself in the mirror. My makeup had smeared some from the crying. I grabbed a paper towel, turned on the faucet at one of the four sinks, and got it wet. Then I gently wiped away the smeared eyeliner and mascara. I threw the paper towel in the trash can and gave myself a once over. I took a deep breath and headed back out to the bar.
The bar was now swarmed with people, and poor Erica was surrounded by crazy customers asking for drinks. I got back behind the bar and helped her start slinging drinks. The two of us worked so perfectly together. We had a good rhythm going and the tips were flowing.
After an hour of tossing drinks around and making sure our customers were satisfied, I saw him walk in. Michael. He was by himself and looking directly at me. If I wanted to run, I couldn’t. He’d already seen me. My breath caught in my throat. I was so nervous, and the overwhelming feelings came back.
I helped one more customer as Michael made his way over to the bar. He leaned against it and didn’t say anything at first. I swallowed hard. Getting ready for what he might have to say.
“Hey,” Michael said when he saw me. His eyes gave me the briefest once-over, and I was sure he must be disappointed in how I looked. After all, I was just wearing a pair of jeans and a baggy t-shirt. But then, he smiled at me and held out his hand encouragingly. “Come on, the limo's waiting for us,” he said. He looked over my shoulder and smiled at Erica, but his eyes quickly found their way back to mine. “I thought we could go back to my place, where we'll have some privacy.”
I looked at Erica. “Go ahead. I’ll call in Whitney,” she said.
For a wild moment, I almost wanted to insist that we have this out here, where Erica could supervise us. But then, I shook my head and let him lead me along. “All right,” I said.
We were silent until we reached Michael's apartment. He seemed at a loss as we entered the place, and I realized suddenly it was because he wanted to offer me a drink but remembered at the last second I was pregnant. “You can have a drink, if it would make you feel better,” I told him softly.
Michael gave me a surprised look, which rapidly turned sheepish. “I'm a little nervous,” he admitted, and something about the way that he said that made me feel better about this situation.
He poured a glass of wine for himself and a glass of water for me and then joined me on the sofa, overlooking the city.
“I'm sorry for how I've been acting,” I said, swishing the liquid around in the crystalline glass and watching the light refract in interesting ways. I sighed and turned my eyes towards him. “To be honest, you're the first guy I've ever really had feelings for. I don't know what to do.”
Michael stared at me for a long moment and then shook his head. “To be honest, Paige, that's exactly what I'm going through as well,” he said quietly. “You're the first woman I've ever said 'I love you' to. Actually, you're the first person I've ever said 'I love you' to and meant it. I'm just as nervous about this as you are.”
I couldn't help staring right back at him, wondering at his words. But it made sense when I thought about it. I'd seen him, after all: all those nights at The Shift when he went home with different girls. I knew that committing to one woman wasn't normal for him.
I started to wonder whether I could even trust him when he said that he was in love with me. But of course, I believed him. I could sense it in his actions. In how gentle and tender he was whenever we had sex. In the sincerity in his eyes, when he'd told me he loves me.
The thing was, I didn't even think he had meant to say it. It had accidentally slipped out that he loved me, and I had to believe there was truth in that.
And we were both feeling the same thing. I swallowed hard, realizing we had to work through this together. It was the first time that either of us felt this strongly about someone else. I had to trust we could work through this.
“I love you,” I said softly.
Michael stared at me for a moment, as though waiting for some caveat. But there was none. After a moment, he gave me a dazzling smile and then leaned in to kiss me. I immediately opened my mouth to him, letting him explore.