The hard points of her nipples are visible from here.
I tense my jaw. “You’re sleeping in that?” I mumble, barely moving my lips and keeping my voice as low as possible.
“He’s seen me in less.”
I pinch the cigar and flick the end with my middle finger. “And?
“And what?”
I arch an eyebrow. “Did he touch you?”
I hear her breath out a laugh. “Maybe.” And then she thins her eyes on me. “And maybe I let him. He’s a chip off the old block, after all.”
My jaw aches, and she shakes her head, turning away from me.
I know she’s angry. I know why she’s angry. And I know we all do stupid things when we’re angry. She’s pushing me away, and I just need time to think. Just some time.
“Don’t do this,” I tell her.
“Then don’t ask me stupid questions.”
Her chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, and she looks miserable. I don’t know what to do.
“This is killing me,” I whisper, shooting my eyes to her window to make sure Lindsay isn’t watching. “Fucking killing me, knowing you are in his bed.”
“Then you should’ve told them the truth,” she fires back. “That she could use my room all she wants, because I sleep in your bed now.”
She pushes herself to her feet, dusting off her ass, and I can’t look at her in the eye anymore. She sleeps in my bed now. Yes, she does.
And I want her there more than anything right now.
“If you want me, we’re going to have to face him sooner or later,” she says. “You can’t keep me cooped up here, Pike. I want to do things with you, go out with you, go to dinner, kiss you, and not have to worry about being behind closed doors when I do it.”
I’m quiet for a moment, and she doesn’t wait for me to find my tongue. She stalks off toward the house, and I frantically glance up at her window again before shooting off to go get her. Grabbing her hand, I pull her around the corner of the house and back her up against the wall.
“We can’t,” I plead, staring down at her. “Not yet. What we’re doing isn’t right. Everyone will talk. Cole won’t understand.”
Her eyes glisten with tears as she stares up at me, but her jaw tenses with anger.
I back up a step, running my hand through my hair. “What if this ends in two weeks, and I’ve destroyed what relationship I do have with my kid, because I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants?” I tell her. “I should’ve just kept my hands off you! Why couldn’t I resist? Huh?”
It’s a rhetorical question, but it’s the truth. I should’ve kept my hands off. Who the hell knows how Cole will take this? How much deeper could Lindsay sink her claws into him over this? Everything I’ve done in my life was for him. I didn’t go to college because she wouldn’t work, and we needed money. I worked my ass off, so I could afford everything he would need. He’s finally coming around, and this could ruin everything.
She’s quiet for a while, and I hate it. I want to know what she’s thinking, and when she’s angry, at least I know she wants to fight. Right now, her breathing is slow and steady, and she just stares at me, too calm.
She nods to herself. “It’s not worth it,” she deciphers. And then she starts to walk away. “I know you’re right.”
“Jordan…”
“No, it’s okay.” She stops. “I get it. I knew my sister was right. This was never going to happen.”
That’s not…
But it is what I meant, isn’t it? If I can’t tell him now, was I ever planning to? When would it be easier? After they’ve been broken up a couple years?
When I don’t respond, she glances at me. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She walks for the back door, and I feel like I’ve been kicked. I feel like I’m never going to see her again.
I race after her, catching her hand and stopping her. “Don’t,” I beg. “Jesus, I didn’t mean that. Jordan, I…you are worth it. I just…” I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“It’s okay,” she says, sounding so calm I’m scared. “It really is. I should thank you, actually. I’ve been trying for years, it seems, to be the kind of woman I admire, and all of a sudden I feel like I am that woman now. I know I’m worth it. You’re just not.”
She moves to walk away, and I stop her again. “Jordan.”
This time she whips around, holding her head high and yanking her hand out of my grasp. “Tell him now then,” she demands.
The air rushes from my lungs with the ultimatum.
“Tell him with me now,” she says, “so I can go get in our bed, and we can go to sleep and tomorrow we can start to move forward, because it will all be done, and we won’t have to worry about it anymore.” Her eyes challenge me. “Tell him now.”
I open my mouth to speak. To tell her I will. I’ll march up right now and tell my son the truth. That I think I love her, and I’m sorry, and I didn’t mean to hurt him.
But I know I’m right. She’ll be back to school full time in two months, meeting guys who are educated and have their whole lives in front of them. I’m not upsetting my family when I don’t know what this is yet. She has no right to ask that of me.
She starts to back away, the blue in her eyes like ice.
“It’s so incredible how fast it can happen, isn’t it?” she says as she slowly leaves me. “How I feel absolutely nothing for you now.”
Jordan
“You don’t look so good, sugar.”
I look up from the cooler where I’m loading beer bottles from a case and give Grady a weak smile. “Nothing a box of Thin Mints won’t fix,” I tell him.
Or a vat of sherbert ice cream or Pike walking in here right now, taking me in his arms in front of everyone, and telling me he loves me.
God, I’m so tired. And weary. I couldn’t stand to look at him last night, and I wanted nothing more than to be away from him and out of his life.
I took my newly repaired VW and crashed at my sister’s, and then I came to work at ten to get ready for the lunch shift, and I’ve been here for twelve hours now, staying long after the schedule dictated.
My anger and resolve are still there, but so is the sadness now. I miss him.
But I hate myself more.
I love him and want him, but…
I can’t be around him.
He makes me laugh, and when I’m with him, I’m home. Like he’s the only thing in my life I understand.
But I don’t understand myself anymore. Someone has to fight for me for a change.
I’m not going back.
“You clocked out without closing the tab before you left last time,” Grady says, pulling cash out of his wallet. “Here’s your tip.”
He slides a couple twenties across the bar, and I close the cooler and laugh under my breath, my eyes feeling heavy with fatigue.
“Grady, it didn’t even occur to me,” I tell him. “Don’t worry about stuff like that. I’m just happy you’re here.”
Which is the truth. He saves me from having to force conversation with anyone else while I’m working. He doesn’t flirt or make crude comments, and he likes my music on the jukebox.
I leave the money and clear off his empty bottle, popping the top of a new one and setting it in front of him.
“Hey, can I have two Buds?” someone calls, holding out money at the bar.
I head over, hearing the phone ring and seeing Shel grab it.
Opening the cooler, I pull out the two Buds.
“Jordan?” Shel repeats into the phone.
I glance over at her, setting the two beers down in front of the guy.
“Who’s calling?” she asks.
I keep my eyes on her, my breathing going shallow as I take the guy’s money and ring up his drinks.
“Pike?” she says.
She casts me a look, and I shake my head. It’s late, I’ve been gone since last night, and I’m actually surprised he hasn’t come looking for me, making his pushy demands as usual.
“Yeah, she’s not here,” Shel lies. “Her shift ended. Try her cell phone.”
She hangs up, probably not waiting for him to say anything else and definitely not knowing that Pike has already called my cell a few times today. He didn’t leave messages, though, and he hasn’t texted.
She approaches me. “What is going on?”
“Nothing.”
She cocks her head, not believing me. “You look exhausted.” She gently pushes my hair behind my ear as I wipe down the bar. “Have you eaten anything today?”
“I’m fine,” I tell her. “Just tired.”
“Is Cole causing you more problems?”
I sigh, feeling my stomach grow shaky. I want to talk to someone, but I’m sick of being the girl with guy problems. I’m tired of Shel worrying about me, and I don’t want her to know. She already thinks Pike is an ass, and for some reason, I hate that. I don’t want to give her more ammo.
“Why is his father calling you?” she presses me.
I avoid her gaze, drop the dishcloth in the bucket of hot water, and grab a fresh one, wiping off the same liquor bottles I already did this afternoon.
I feel her eyes on me. “Jordan, what have you gotten yourself into?”
My chin trembles, and tears sting the backs of my eyes. “Nothing,” I say, still not looking at her. “I’ll be okay.”
A server comes out of the kitchen with food, and I step around one of the other bartenders coming back with a new bottle of Captain from the liquor closet. I think for a moment, trying to figure out what I can do next, and finally bend over to retrieve a package of napkins from a cabinet. Tearing it open, I start to refill one of the containers on the bar.
“Go home,” Shel says, putting her hand over the container. “Get some sleep.”