This is why, at the end of the day, we will never work. I can’t be trusted with making her happy. Even if I try to, even though I want to, I’ll mess it all up.
There’s a rotten feeling in my gut, a disappointment that’s directed internally. It sprung as soon as I pulled my pants up. And when she didn’t ask me to come back, it gnawed at me.
“Does this lull mean you’re thinking?” Navie asks.
“What are you? Some kind of pseudo-therapist?” I ask as I pour another shot. “I don’t want to think about anything.”
“Clearly.”
This shot goes down much easier.
“Keep it up and you won’t be standing much longer either,” she observes.
“Two shots? I’m gonna be all right.”
“But are you?”
“For fuck’s sake, Navie. Yes. I’m gonna be fine. I’ve fucked shit up a hundred times, and I’ve come out okay. Trust me.” I reach for the whiskey again but reconsider. “Have some faith.”
My reflection stares back at me in the mirror above the bottles. Stress lines form around my mouth, the vein in my temple pulsing every time my heart beats.
A part of me wants Navie to hurry the hell up and get out of here so I can find Hadley. Make sure she’s okay. Apologize for being a dick. Another part of me points out that encouraging this shit with her makes me a dick, and I should really just stay away.
“Okay, want to know what I heard in all that?” Navie asks, resting her chin on her folded hands.
“No.”
“Too bad. What I heard is a whole lot of fear.”
My head falls back, the alcohol making it heavier than normal. It feels good to give in. To let the relief, what little of it there is, course through me.
“What are you afraid of, Machlan?”
“Being employee-less when I fire you,” I say, still facing the ceiling. “It’s gonna suck ass, but it’ll be better than dealing with this.”
She sighs with all the drama of a soap opera. “Okay. I’m gonna just talk frank.”
I lift my head. “You mean you weren’t?”
“Ha.” She drops her hands. “Look, you’re a nice guy and good looking, but don’t let that go to your head. You have a helluva business here. Everyone, and I mean everyone, loves you. You have a super-hot cousin who you could totally hook me up with as a signing bonus type of thing.” She grins, waggling her eyebrows. “And you also have a girl who’s so in love with you it makes me in love with your love.”
I scoff, turning away.
Hadley can’t love me. She might think she does, but she can’t. How could someone like her love someone like me, a shitshow of a guy? A guy who knocked her up when I couldn’t take care of her. A man who could never offer her the things in life that she needs.
What she wants out of life isn’t a mystery. I’ve known that since I met her: she wants the life she never had. A husband who comes home after a nine-to-five. Kids she can dote on. A stable, predictable life she can relax in for the first time ever.
I own a bar. I know what the inside of a jail cell looks like. I’m never going to be the guy the Chamber of Commerce adores or be the responsible one in any lineup you can put together.
I’ve ruined her life once. I’ll do it again. I have no faith in me.
“Have you talked to her about your feelings?” Navie presses.
“For the love of God.” I slam the shot glass down, but it’s accompanied with a chuckle. “I don’t have feelings. Okay? Let’s get that straight.”
“Oh, so you’re a liar too. Good to know.”
I want to be pissed she’s calling me out. It’s way out of line and probably setting a bad precedent. But I hired her because she has that indistinguishable charm that makes people want to talk to her—me included. Even if I don’t actually want to talk.
“Will you stop it?”
“No,” she says as though she’s insulted. “I won’t stop it.”
I slide my hands down my face again.
“Fine, fine.” Navie slides off the stool. “I’ll forget about it.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll forget all about how she watched you mix drinks and how you went straight for the table when you saw her sitting with those hotties in the dress shirts.”
My hands fall to my sides, but my fists clench. A surge of jealousy strikes again even though I now know Camilla’s brothers weren’t here for Hadley.
But I’m the one who left her upstairs.
Guilt slips in place, shoving the jealousy out of the way. The whiskey sloshes. My brain tortures me with screenshots of Hadley’s face when I told her I had to leave. I hear the sound of her voice, pretending to be strong, telling me she doesn’t expect anything from me.
But she should.
I want her to. When she does, I feel like I’m ten-fucking-feet tall even if her expectations are impossible.
Damn it.
I drag the keys out of my pocket. “You ready to go?”
“Yup.”
We head toward the door. Navie takes her time, fishing her keys out of her purse. I try to walk faster in hopes it speeds her up, but it doesn’t.
“You have big plans for the rest of the night?” she asks.
“It’s two in the morning. I’m pretty sure tonight is over.”
“True enough.”
We step into the darkness and find the air a good ten degrees cooler than it was earlier in the day. Navie shivers in her sweatshirt as I lock the door. Once it’s secure, I walk her to the little blue car next to the train tracks.
As soon as I can see the back door, my attention is there. The light is off. Hadley’s car is parked by the dumpster. Everything looks normal, only I know it’s not.
She’s up there. And I’m not.
Climbing in the driver’s side, Navie starts the engine and flips on the heater. “Hadley’s in the apartment, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“You should check on her,” she says softly. “I get it—the stuff between you two isn’t easy. But it never is.”
Still looking at the apartment, I sigh. “I think it’s a little harder for us than most.”
“Then you should work extra hard to make it a thing.”
“Huh?” I ask, turning around.
“If it’s that hard and you’re still in it, then it might be worth the extra fight.” She closes the door but rolls down the window. The fog on the windshield clears slowly, the sound of the air blowing on it comforting. “If a guy ever looks at me the way you do her, I hope someone is smart enough to tell him to find me.”
This I can work with.
Gripping the door frame, I choose my words carefully. “But what if he was a clusterfuck of a guy? Wouldn’t he be better off staying the hell away from you?”
“No.” Her laugh is simple, as if this should be obvious. “I’m a giant clusterfuck myself. Sure, it looks like I have it all together, right? I mean, I’m working two jobs. I’m well-adjusted, have great parents, and take my birth control regularly. I don’t smoke, have perfectly straight teeth, and I can balance a spoon on my nose.”
“What?”
“Anyway,” she says, “the point is those are my statistics. The ‘good column’, if you will. People don’t see my ‘bad column’ as easy, but we all have one.”
“I’m still stuck on the spoon thing.”
She looks at the ceiling and sighs. “Look, Machlan, Hadley is a smart girl. She really likes you. And I don’t know what happened between you when you—wait, yes I do.” She shakes her head. “You have a stain on your shirt that I’ve seen before after a quickie ...”
I look down at the tail of my black T-shirt as Navie makes a face. Sure enough, she’s right.
“I don’t think anyone else noticed. I just notice things. Anyway, after that,” she says, pointing at my shirt, “she’s probably lying up there right now wondering what’s up. Like, did you just one-and-done her? Are you going to call? Do you care? What did that mean?”
What did that mean?
My throat squeezes, and I fight the urge to look at the apartment again. Every cell in my body draws backward to Hadley, and I grip the doorframe harder so I don’t turn around and run to her like a pussy.
My fingertips strum the roof of the car. “I should stay away. Let her think.”
“Yeah, if you wanna be a dick.”
“Navie …”
“Sorry. The truth hurts.” She shrugs. “If you wanna tell yourself you’re letting her think, fine by me. It doesn’t affect me. But if you do give a shit about her, and I know you do, then do the right thing, Machlan. Treat her with the same decency you treat everyone else.”
The whiskey must wear off because my entire body cools. I shiver as a rash of goose bumps break out across my skin.
“Now, I gotta go,” she says. “I’m tired and emotionally spent from this love affair you have going on. Plus, I have to rationalize Peck’s love of Molly before I can go to sleep, and I’m not sure how long that’s going to take.”
“None of us have figured that out, so good luck.”
“He’s so cute. And she’s so … mean,” she groans. Shoving the car in gear, she waves. “Have a good night, Mach.”
“You too.”
She drives off, her taillights disappearing around the corner before I even pivot. When I do, I almost wish I hadn’t.
A light is on in the apartment. It’s faint, barely visible, and looks to come from the back of the room. My feet start walking that way before my head even tells them to.
At least I don’t run like a pussy.
Hadley
Knock, knock.
I sit straight up in bed with my eyes glued to the door. The clock shows it’s possible—it could be Machlan. I stifle a nervous chuckle because if it’s not, it’s probably a serial killer, and I’m dead, and I don’t even care.