I wondered, and not for the first time, if she would ever date me. If she’d let me kiss her. If she’d kiss me back.
No, I told myself.
She’d only shoot me down, and it could ruin our friendship, put some weird juju on us that would just make living with her incredibly awkward. Not that I couldn’t handle the rejection — I’d been rejected plenty, and for a number of reasons. But rejection from Cam would be different. It wouldn’t be so easy as the others, and some of them were a level of hell I didn’t typically care to discuss.
It was then that I decided I’d hit the gym hard to clear my head and then stay home tonight. Or maybe I’d call Kyle, blow off some steam. Either way, space seemed like a smart move, and as I packed up my things, I wondered whether I was right or wrong.
Cam
Greg smiled at me from across the bar when I walked in that evening. The happy hour crowd was going strong, and I made my way around the back of the bar to jump in and help him and Beau out, happy to be busy after a long day reading and laying around like a fat-assed cat. The most productive thing I’d done was bake cookies, but I negated my productiveness by eating half of them.
I’m not telling how many dozens I made. A girl’s got to have her secrets.
Once we had the bar under control, we made our way down the line, making sure everything was stocked, wiping down the surfaces while Beau headed to the back with racks of pint and rocks glasses to send through the dishwasher. Greg and I stood at the dish wells to catch up on the more delicate wine and martini glasses as Greg washed and I rinsed, and I smiled over at him.
“How’d it go last night?”
He shrugged. “Fine. We made good money, locked it up tight.”
“Get Bayleigh home all right?”
“Yeah, she lives close by, so it was no big deal.” He smiled that winning smile of his, his tattooed arms dunked in the soapy water.
I smiled back, picturing the two of them together. “It was really great of you to offer. She’s so adorable.”
He chuckled. “She is. A real sweetheart.”
“Hey, you’re one to talk. You guys are two of the best people we have working here, no lie.”
“Is that why you schedule us together all the time?” he asked with a brow up and a smirk on his lips.
I smirked right back. “One reason.”
He laughed and handed me a glass.
“I bet the crowd last night ate up your costumes last night. Cool that you guys matched.”
“I’m sure it didn’t hurt the tip jar one bit. Though I don’t know if I’ll wear a full spandex bodysuit again.”
“Aww,” I said with a laugh. “But the ladies sure loved it. I’m thinking I should have you, Beau, and Harrison all work a shift dressed up as Spiderman, Superman, and Batman. Beau’s got the hair for it, I bet it’d even make that little curly-cue in the front. I’m a thousand percent sure we could all make a killing.”
“So, bookstore, bar, and strip club?”
“Hey, who said anything about stripping? I’m talking about covering you head to toe in beautiful, breathable spandex.”
He laughed. “It was fun. There were a few Mary Jane’s in the crowd who wanted pictures. Bayleigh was the only Gwen.”
“Well, she’s one of a kind.”
“And Harley Quinn took a picture hammering my ass.”
I snorted.
“Your roommate’s costume was great, too. Original to go for Steve Rogers over the full-on Cap.”
“It was his idea,” I said as I took another glass from him and rinsed it off.
One brow rose. “Really?”
“No. But it was his idea to make a shield out of a trashcan lid.”
He snickered, but the crowed had lined up again, and before I knew it, a few hours had passed. The Friday night rush was bumping at Wasted Words, and I scanned the crowd, looking for Tyler. He should have already been there, but he was nowhere to be seen, so as soon as there was a lull in work, I pulled out my phone to text him.
But I found a text from him.
Hey, I’m exhausted from last night and a long day. I’m just gonna hang here, but maybe I’ll see you tonight, if you’re home before I crash. If not, tomorrow is college ball, which means you’re mine, all day. Have a good shift.
My heart did an awkward backflip, and I read the line again. You’re mine, all day.
Then, I freaked out.
What the hell did he mean his? He said it like he was talking about my heart or my soul or my vagina. Maybe all three. My thighs squeezed together at the thought. I mean, we watched football every Saturday that he wasn’t traveling, so of course I’d be there. Of course we’d be together. But his?
I don’t doubt that anyone attracted to the Y chromosome would oppose to being his for any length of time. An hour. Several weeks. Life. Whatever.
I’d be the last person to complain. I cared about Tyler a lot, maybe even more than I was willing to admit. I made the mistake of letting myself really consider it for the first time, but I didn’t get very far before the memory of Will blazed through me. I shrank away from the thought.
Familiar anxiety bloomed in my chest, and I took a breath to steel myself.
I had always been a floater in high school, not belonging to any clique, though not what you’d call a loner either. I was enough of an extrovert to be comfortable in most social situations, friends with everyone and no one, a quirky installment in the school. I was the girl who wore and acted upon and said what she wanted, gaining me the simultaneous freedom and isolation I’d earned.