Holden
“Where you running off to?” Cheryl pesters at my side, as I finish my final beer of the night.
“Home. Alone,” I add on, making my intentions clear. She served her purpose, now she needs to move on.
I move to toss my empty bottle in the trash.
“Seriously, alone?”
“What I said,” I say, continuing to brush her off. I nod to Waylon as he wipes down the bar. “I’m out. Lock up for me.”
“Sure thing, man.” He gives me a chin lift.
I really need to see about hiring an extra bartender. Cheryl does okay, but she doesn’t have great tits. Tits and ass attract more men who spend money buying women drinks, trying to get laid. And they like having something pretty to look at. I don’t mind it either.
I leave Cheryl to find some other sorry bastard to take her home. I knew better than to fuck around with her, but I’m a sucker for good head. That’s one thing she does a great job at. She’s a lousy waitress. Missy should be back after she has her six-week checkup, but I’m not counting on it. Waylon said she is loving staying home with the baby.
I make my way to my truck, patting my pockets for my keyring, and then I remember my dumbass gave my keys to Conleigh. Shit, I need to walk anyway with as much as I drank tonight. I only wish it wasn’t so fucking cold outside.
Nearly four hours and six beers after Conleigh left the bar, I make my way home. Ezra’s car is parked in front of our apartment, but I doubt he’s here. If he keeps working like he does, he’ll be bald or gray by thirty.
He doesn’t deserve Conleigh. He’s all wrong for her. So many times, I have wished that the first night I met her, I’d seen her first. I wish like hell that I had never kissed Bailey. I swear fate fucked with me. Conleigh should have been with me that night and Ezra should have picked up Bailey.
Bailey gave me a thank you kiss for getting their shots and she was a little eager. I should have pulled away. I should have told Conleigh that it meant nothing and that I wanted to get to know her, because she was the prettiest fucking girl I had ever seen. I didn’t do that though because I saw the way Ezra kept staring at her. He was just as mesmerized by her as I was.
I never stood a chance all because of one dumb kiss. Conleigh has never looked at me the way I want her to. She only sees me as the jerk who pissed off her best friend.
Trudging up the stairs, my feet are heavy. I should’ve come home when Con showed up. I feel like a dick for forgetting her key. She probably thinks I did it on purpose, but I got on a roll working earlier and it really did slip my mind. I’m working on a hope chest for Waylon’s four-week old daughter.
Before I can knock to be let in, the door flies open and Con’s face falls when she sees that it’s only me.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” I mumble as she moves away from the door.
Her dark brown hair rests in a tiny knot on top of her head. She pads across the floor runner to the small dining room that separates the living room and kitchen.
“You hungry?” She says, her tone soft, but sad.
“Sure, I can eat.” I pat my stomach as she takes up a chair, tugging the oversized university sweatshirt over her bare knees. She’s wearing grey tube socks with white and navy stripes, they are sliding down her calves. She keeps adjusting them, but they keep sliding back down her tan legs.
I kick my boots off and follow her to the table. I can hardly tear my eyes away from her silky legs.
The smell of garlic assaults my sense and I look to the table.
She wasn’t kidding. She really came home and made dinner. Garlic bread, salad, and spaghetti sits on display in the center of the table.
“You’ll probably have to heat it up in the microwave,” she tells me with a frown, as she twirls her fork in the pasta on her full plate. “The salad is probably wilted too.”
“Thanks.” I offer her a smile that she ignores. “Shoulda stayed at the Grill with me.” I observe and she pushes her plate away.
“You okay?”
She sighs and shakes her head. “I was fired today.”
“So, come work for me.”
“What?”
“Come work for me at the bar?”
“You run the bar?”
“I own the bar.”
“You think that I would come work at that shit hole bar for you”
“I’ll pay you ten dollars an hour. Tips under the table. I need you and you need me.”
“I need to talk it over with Ezra.”
“Is he your boyfriend or your daddy?”
“That’s original.” She rolls her eyes.
“Think about it. You’d make damn good tips.”
She nods. “I will. I’m going to bed. I’ll clean this up in the morning.”
“Sure, no problem.” I shrug and grab an empty plate, loading it up with noodles and sauce.
In the kitchen, I glance at the clock on the stove and it reads 11:15. Damn. Ezra should’ve been home by now. I put the plate in the microwave and pour a glass of milk while I wait. I hate the way he is doing Conleigh. I know that he said he made a mistake when he cheated on her with Judy, but in my gut, I know he’s still seeing her. When I dropped him at the office the other day, she was standing at the door waiting for him with a coffee and when she kissed his cheek in greeting, his hand went to the small of her back, an intimate gesture.
Once the microwave dings, I take my plate and drink to the dining room. Maybe Ezra will come in before I finish and join me. Seems like we haven’t really hung out much lately. Shit, I see Conleigh more than I do him and she just moved in.
I was hesitant when he mentioned her moving in. This has been a bachelor pad since I first bought the building. However, Ezra swore it wouldn’t change my lifestyle, and he said it wouldn’t be long before they found something for the two of them. When I turned twenty-one I was given access to my trust fund and invested in this property. I use the basement for my workshop. I create furniture and anything really out of pallet wood. College wasn’t for me. I dropped out as soon as my funds were released. It wasn’t like I had anyone who cared to stop me.
I let that thought go and rip off the crust off my bread; it’s hard as a damn rock, but the center is soft.
As I am enjoying the meal that was cooked for another man, I can hear the faint sound of Conleigh’s sobs.
Part of me wants to comfort her, make her laugh or something, but it isn’t my place. I finish up eating and still, there is no sign of Ezra.
All this food shouldn’t go to waste, so I transfer it into plastic storage containers, sticking them all in the fridge. Then I load the dishwasher and set it to start in the morning so it isn’t running while we are sleeping. I don’t have to wake up early, but I remember Conleigh mentioning she has an early class or maybe that was the other day. I don’t know why I care. It isn’t my place to and Conleigh has made her feelings about me perfectly clear.
When I reach the end of the hall, I can hear Conleigh on the phone with one of her friends making excuses for Ezra. This is why I don’t do relationships, it only leads to disappointment. I’ve had enough of that shit in my life. Don’t have room for more.
Lifting my shirt over the back of my head, I toss it on a chair and shove my jeans down. After kicking my socks off, clad in my boxers I get ready to crash.
Fuck, I forgot to brush my teeth. That’s the only thing that I want to change about this place, a spare bathroom. We’ve not ran into any issues yet, but then again, it’s only been a few days of having a chick live here. I never thought I’d see the day that girly shit would be lined up on my sink.
Pink fucking toothbrush, a curling fucking iron, and a makeup bag. I stick her shit under the sink. Out of sight out of mind.
When I see her tampons under the sink…I don’t know if this is going to work. Girl shit in my space is a big fat nope. I’ll give it time, maybe they’ll get a place of their own—soon.