“Where?”
“A dive-bar. The Dirty Dawg.” I wince at the name. “I bet that tells you all you need to know about it.”
She laughs. “It’s almost as bad as the Nail Princess.”
That’s the shop next door where she works.
“Both are fitting names,” I mutter, distracted when a couple walks in, hand in hand, staring into each other’s eyes, lovestruck.
My stomach clenches, my chest goes tight. If only I could…
But no. Fuck, stop this.
“Hey, Nate.” Sophie hums as she hands me back the rag and raps her multicolored nails on the surface of the bar. “I should leave you to work.”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice rough. “Talk to you later.”
Why does love have to be so damn hard?
Working all day and most of the night means I barely see my roomies, and it’s both a curse and a blessing—a burden and a relief. They saved me. I owe them everything, I owe them my life and what scraps of sanity I have left. If Kash hadn’t grabbed me and hauled me away that night… if Sydney hadn’t come along and talked to me for days until I could register her words, her presence a warm counterpoint to Kash’s strength… I don’t know where I’d be.
And my way of showing my gratitude is to avoid them.
But I need to work, I remind myself. I’m not avoiding them on purpose.
Well, not most of the time.
Tonight I’m home early. Again, not by choice. Thing is, the bar closed early, if not permanently. A drunken argument turned into a fist fight, turned into stools and bottles flying, windows crashing, and then the cops showed up.
No idea who called them, but the bar isn’t exactly legal, and neither am I. My fake ID wouldn’t pass careful examination, and surely not that of an officer of the law.
I barely made it out the back door and would have run all the way home, if I didn’t have this idea stuck in my mind that anyone running like hell appears suspect. As it was, I speed-walked, so fast I made it home in half the time I normally need.
So here I am, adrenaline buzzing in my blood like a live current, closing the apartment door behind me and leaning on it, still trying to catch my breath.
Goddammit. That was close. And now I’m probably out of a job. I doubt the bar will pass inspection.
My eyes are blurry, and I rub them, trying to clear them. My neck is so stiff it hurts. I roll my shoulders and groan. What a shitty evening. I haven’t even gotten paid for this week yet. I might as well kiss that money goodbye. Money I need for my part of the rent.
Yeah, this sucks ass. I’ll have to find something else. Maybe Kash has some idea, or… or West.
Shit, West. It’s been so long since I last saw him or talked to him… Too fucking long. Ever since that goddamn night, I couldn’t bear to see him. I don’t even know why. I guess… it’s because he saw me, really saw me that night, saw the wreck of a man I was, the shreds of my sanity trailing to the ground, and then walked away.
Even worse, I’m not sure if I’m disgusted or relieved. After all, I’m still a wreck, even though I put on a good face. As for my sanity… I bet I’d give any shrink a field day.
I just wish I could stop thinking about West, wishing… wishing for his voice, his presence, his laughter, his arm around my shoulders. His friendship, and his affection.
A hand trailing on the wall for balance, I stagger into the living room. Thinking, obsessing, wishing. All useless. What I need is to take some painkillers and lie down in the dark and quiet, sink into nothingness. Tomorrow I have my morning job to do, I can’t afford to miss it.
Our ancient TV is on, a wreck Kash rescued from a trash pile on a street corner.
Another wreck. He likes collecting them. First me, then the TV set. The TV works better than me.
I can hear the shower running, and I wonder if it’s Syd or Kash. I’ve barely made it to my bedroom door when my question is answered: Sydney emerges in a cloud of steam, clad in a fluffy pink towel.
Even fuzzy around the edges, she’s so sexy she short-circuits my already misfiring brain.
“Nate.” Her voice is warm and low, golden like honey. Soothing. Arousing. “Didn’t know you were home. Isn’t it still early?”