6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Katie
I hurry through the crowd to where Paxton stood. At Jake’s show, didn’t his bandmates say that they didn’t know where Pax is? Scratch that, what is he doing here? Not only in Windmeadows, but Temptation. And why the fuck would he appear exactly on the evening Micah’s getting me to star in his show, like what godforsaken timing is that?
But when I reach the bar, he’s gone. There’s no trace of him, not even the glass I saw him holding and set down on the counter. What the hell? Did I imagine him? Did he steal the fucking glass?
"There's our little fire hydrant," Harper laughs when both of them reach me, both obviously still in the mood to tease. I only listen to her with half an ear as she raves about the show, my eyes wandering over the crowd. I’m sure I didn’t imagine him. He must have been the weird-staring dude as well; he had the same sunglasses on his head. But where the hell is he now?
I eye the bar where I saw him, but like a phantom he disappeared within a second. Was it a hallucination after all? Maybe the heat from the stage lights made me see things, or the brightness damaged my eyes.
"Hello?" Phoebe waves her hand in front of my face until my attention shifts to her. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, of course," I mumble as I slip past them and take my place behind the bar. "Just thought I saw..." I shake my head. "It doesn't matter. I need a drink."
I reach for lemonade and pour myself a generous glass. Has it gotten hotter in here?
"So, how did you like it?" Harper leans over the counter, far enough that I'm scared she'll topple right over it and land at my feet, taking all of the neatly stacked glasses with her. "Did you have fun?" Carefully, I push her a bit back.
"It was okay," I tell her. Feeling heat creep into my cheeks again, I lift my ice-cold glass against the side of my face, but it doesn’t help.
"You looked like you enjoyed yourself," Phoebe mentions with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.
“I-”
A customer asking for a drink saves me from answering that. He's followed by a stream of people who always appear just before the girls get on stage again; although I feel Phoebe's and Harper's eyes on me the whole time, I finally have a few seconds to collect my thoughts.
Did I like it? Not really. I think it was more awkward than enjoyable.
No doubt, if I had a boyfriend with a build like Micah's I'd very much enjoy those kinds of dances in the bedroom. But on a stage with a bunch of strangers watching? And with a friend who, until a week ago, had a boyfriend?
Yeah, no.
But my own feelings aside, I'm glad Micah had fun. The smile on his face throughout the performance makes it worth Harper’s and Phoebe’s teasing. And if I can get that by sitting in a chair or laying on the ground and letting him do his thing, I'll gladly do that.
I don't think I'd want to lie on the dirty stage ground again, though. That was pretty disgusting, if I’m being honest. I’ll probably be pulling specks of dust out of my hair the whole night and I’ve just washed it.
Later in the night, Micah comes over to the bar. Most of his fans only come for his performances; they hang around for an hour, maximum, hoping he’d come out and chat with them as he sometimes does, before they stream out of the club. He’s stopped doing that with all the harassment going on, but I don’t think they’ve realized.
Neither do I think that they’d recognize him without his makeup and with clothes on.
"Hello there, ladies," he greets Phoebe and Harper smoothly. He's met Phoebe a few times throughout the years. Once Harper moved here, the both of them come to visit me at work more frequently, around once a month on average.
"How did you like the show?" he asks them, and I shake my head. The ego on this guy.
"It was amazing," Harper giggles and Phoebe chimes in. Oh, those two are drunk . Phoebe is going to hate herself tomorrow. “Loved the part where she blushed.”
Micah bursts into laughter and the both of them giggle right along. Yeah, yeah. They’ll see what comes of it for them. I’ll find a way to pay them back somehow.
"Such a shame you play for the wrong team," Phoebe presses out between giggles.
"Who said that I do?" Micah asks and wiggles his eyebrows at them, before beckoning them closer with his finger and adding in a softer voice, "Actually, I play for both teams."
My eyes grow wide slightly and my breath hitches with surprise. I only ever heard him talk about boyfriends so... that is news.
Phoebe's and Harper's eyes grow wide as well. "What? You’re bi? How did we not know that?"
"You never asked," Micah laughs at the stupid looks on their faces. "But don't worry, sweet Katie is safe from my predatory man urges." He shoots me a wink and Phoebe and Harper look at each other like that’s not at all what they’re worried about.
“Obviously,” Harper says and clasps his shoulder. “If you wanted to you would have. I’m sure she’d be head over heels for you with a snap of your finger. ”
“Lovely Katie has my heart, but alas, how the world would suffer if this body was only available to one person?” He lifts his shirt to showcase his abs, making the two of them giggle again.
I shake my head at him and get back to making drinks. But oh, how I'm going to tease Phoebe for her 'He's gay, he's not going to pop a stiffy' quote. And she knows it, because she quickly changes topics.
"Did you check your lease yet?" she asks over the music and I nod.
"Your lease? Why?" Harper wonders and cocks her head curiously. "Are you moving?"
"No, we’re thinking about looking for a roommate. At least, until Luke moves out and I can move to a smaller flat," I tell her and wipe a bead of sweat off my forehead. It's warm in here today. "I checked the lease today and, yes, we can get a roommate. So, I'm putting out a flyer or something tomorrow."
"But isn't that dangerous? What if it's some creep who only wants to move in so he can steal your underwear? Or to put cameras up in your bathroom?" Harper's eyes grow wider and wider. "Or what if they stop paying rent and become a squatter? Are you sure that's such a smart idea?"
"I'll help you interview potential roommates," Micah offers quickly and shoots them a quick smile.
"You're overreacting. I’m sure it will be fine. Why would such a person be in Windmeadows of all places?" The three of them exchange annoyed glances with raised eyebrows before they return their eyes on me.
"No, we're not,” Phoebe says vigorously. “People are fucking crazy, and the smart ones have become great at acting. Remember what I told you about that L.A. guy I dated a while ago who had a whole ass family and tried to make me his sidepiece?”
“She’s right.” Harper jumps in. “Speaking from experience.” She grimaces and Phoebe rubs her shoulder reassuringly. “My own experiences aside, I’ve heard so many horror stories about roommates who ate others food, wouldn’t clean up after themselves and made all kinds of physical and emotional messes and wouldn’t leave. Be careful, Katie.”
“Hmm, okay, you’ve got a point,” I admit and hand the beer I just drew over to a customer. “But, and no offense to both of you, but if you didn’t see that coming, are you really the one who should sit by in those interviews?”
My shoulders sag in relief when Harper bursts into laughter and even Phoebe chuckles, while Micah just looks at the three of us confused.
“I’m sorry, but I’m busy,” Harper winks at me and I roll my eyes at her. Ever since she moved out of her grandma’s place and into her own flat, where she has Simon stay over, she hardly has time for us anymore. I’m giving it a few more weeks until the honeymoon phase wears off before I confront her about it.
“Then it’s settled; Micah will help you vet potential candidates.” Phoebe claps her hands together excitedly. “This is going to be so much fun! Keep me updated, will you?”
“Of course,” I assure her, and she nods, satisfied with that answer.
"Very well. Then Harper and I are off. We saw what we came here to see," she declares and the two of them burst into giggles before paying their tab and sauntering out of the club. Well, trying to saunter. In reality, I’m pretty sure they’re regretting wearing high heels, because their balance is way off.
Meanwhile, I still have half an hour of work to go.
Again and again, I find myself scanning the crowd. I still don't quite believe that I imagined Paxton but more and more it's starting to look like my mind played a trick on me. Either that, or he’s just a master at disappearing without a trace. Each time I see a guy with the same hair color as Pax or wearing a leather jacket in my periphery, I whip my head around, only to grow more and more infuriated when it’s not him. All that talk from his bandmates must have made me paranoid about running into him. There's no reason for him to turn up here: Neither in Windmeadows, nor in Temptation.
Finally, my shift is over. I grab my jacket and hurry to the exit where Micah is already waiting for me, his foot tapping against the ground excitedly and a soft whistle on his lips.
"Is that 'Shake it Off' by Taylor Swift?" I ask him once I recognize the tune. He nods, his mouth stretching from a whistle into a grin. "You're in such a good mood today."
"Hell yes, I am," he laughs and does a little skip as we walk to his car. "I had so much fun on stage today. It's been forever since I could go all out like that."
"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," I say and nudge him with my shoulder. "But next time, warn a girl when you intend to carry and whip her around. I thought you just wanted me to sit there and look pretty, now I’m getting whiplash instead."
"Well in the beginning I did, then there was this guy at the bar. He seemed very taken with you, glaring holes into me the whole time, so I decided to have some fun with it. I’ve seen him a few times before, but I didn’t know he came to Temptation for you."
I scrunch my eyebrows together, utterly confused. Huh? Why did I not realize that was happening?
"None of the regulars I know ever gave me that vibe," I wonder out loud. After all, most of them are at Temptation for the dancers, why would they glare at Micah for pulling me on stage? "Are you sure he was staring at me?" Micah opens the door of his car for me, and I get in.
"Yeah, I've seen him around the past few weeks. You know, tall, dark hair, leather jacket... and sunglasses that make him look like a prick. Like, seriously, who wears sunglasses in a club?" he says, leaning against the door frame before pushing the door shut. My eyes grow wider with each feature he names.
I did not imagine him.
He gets into the driver’s seat and I clear my throat nervously. "How often have you seen him?"
He cocks his head as he thinks about it. "I couldn't tell you for sure, but I've seen him quite a few times in the last month." The last month? And I've only seen him for the first time yesterday? God, my eyesight must be getting worse. "Why? Do you know him?"
"If he is who I think he is, then yes, we used to be friends. No idea why he would turn up here, though," I say softly. I lean my head against the backrest as he starts the car. When he drives off the parking lot, I notice a motorbike parked in the far end and I just know it's his.
There are way too many coincidences to write seeing Paxton off as a hallucination. The only question is, what does he want?
I come awake with a start, my head resting on the kitchen table. I look around the room, utterly disoriented.
Right. I sat down to eat a bowl of cereal. I remember bringing everything to the table and now the bowl with soggy cereal in it is standing right in front of my eyes.
With a groan I sit up and straighten my spine. My back is not thrilled about the position I slept in, protesting with each movement.
Should I go to bed? I stifle a yawn. Later. First thing’s first, originally, I wanted to write the damn roommate ad before going to sleep. I reach for my laptop that’s on the other side of the table and open it. Then I stare at the writing program.
I'm absolutely blanking. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, maybe it's my generally lacking enthusiasm for a roommate, but after half an hour, all I have written down is:
Roommate wanted!
Beautiful room in walking distance to bus stop to local community college.
Looking for a non-smoking roommate, no pets. Must prove stable income. No older than thirty-five.
Please don't be a creep.
I look at my screen with tired eyes, the letters growing hazy in front of my eyes. Blinking, I rub my eyes, but they don’t go back into focus.
I can't post it like that. Shaking my head, I quickly send it over to Phoebe. Her people-instincts might be trash, but she's incredibly good with words, so I’m hoping she’ll make it presentable. Fingers crossed that she’s already awake and somewhat sober again.
Then I get up and quickly stretch my hands over my head before I flush the bowl of soggy cereal down the drain. Within minutes, Phoebe answers with a laughing emoji and a few moments later she sends me over a better version of the ad. Thank God.
Roommate Wanted:
Room available for the next four months with the possibility of taking over the lease afterward. Conveniently close to the bus stop and community college. If you're looking for a place and fit the bill, here's what you need to know:
Non-smoker, no exceptions.
No pets allowed, sorry.
Room is unfurnished.
Stable income is a must.
I'm thinking someone under 35 would be a good fit.
Keep it normal – no weird vibes or creepy stuff, please.
If you're a chill, responsible individual and want a decent place, message me. Let's keep it drama-free and make this living situation work for all of us.
I read over the lines again and again, wondering if I've included all necessary information. What else would I want to know before I move in with someone?
Katie: Shouldn't I mention they're going to be living with two more people or something?
Phoebe : Why? They'll just find out when they come to have a look at the room.
Katie : You've got a point.
Before I can change my mind, I post the ad on several platforms I found while procrastinating writing it yesterday. Then I slam the laptop shut and check the time. I have three more hours until I need to leave for work, maybe I'll manage to get a bit of sleep in my bed now.
Luke is in the kitchen when I get up an hour later. Instead of the whole three hours, I took a powernap and now I actually feel kind of refreshed.
"Hey there, how was school?" I ask him as I get our coffee machine ready. It's one of those super old and not at all fancy ones with a filter, but hey, as long as it works. It’s not the best coffee, but it does its job. Getting caffeine into my body is the priority, I don't really give a fuck how it tastes. Worst case, I'll just slather it with milk and sweetener.
"It was fine. Nothing special." He takes a mug out of the cupboard and pours himself a coffee.
I shoot him a glare, knowing fully well that it will cause him to stay away until late at night, but what can I do? At this point, he's old enough to know what he's doing or deal with the consequences. As long as what he’s trying out is caffeine, I’m more than fine with it. Better than alcohol.
"How is the roommate search going? Did you start yet?"
"I posted the ad just now, let's see who gets in touch," I tell him and cock my head. "Are you really okay with this? A stranger living here with us?"
"I 'm okay with it if you are," he says with a shrug and takes a sip, grimacing, when he notices he never added milk to his coffee. "Bah, disgusting.” He shakes his head vigorously. “I mean, what's the worst that could happen? It's only 4 months."
"Right." I sigh. "Only four months.”
But there’s something else on my mind that I need to get off my chest. “Just for the record Luke," I say sternly and level my stare at him. "Just because you might not have your own room here or wherever I'll move once you're at college, doesn't mean you don’t have a home to return to, okay? If anything comes up, I’ll always have a place for you. We'll manage it somehow."
My throat closes up thinking about not living with him anymore. Oh, how I looked forward to Luke becoming an adult over the years. With each teenage tantrum and screaming match, I used to tell myself that it wasn't for long, anymore. Yet, I can't believe how quickly it all happened in the end.
I step forward and ruffle his hair so he won't see the tears gathering in my eyes.
"Hey," he protests playfully and then clears his throat. "Yeah, I know, sis,” he assures me quietly. “Don't worry. I'm sure I'll come over a lot. You won’t even notice I’m gone." He chuckles quietly and leans into my hand on his head. Just like he always does when he's sad. Which has been far too often in the past years.
Now it's my turn to clear my throat, as I continue to run my fingers through his hair.
"I need to get ready; Micah should be here soon. He's taking me to the mechanic so we can see if the car can be fixed." I’d protested again when he called me just after my alarm rang, but that bitch hung up on me.
"Micah, huh?" He looks at me and wiggles his eyebrows. "What's going on there? Lap dances and what else?"
"Nothing else," I chuckle and shake my head. "Get that right out of your big head."
"All right, all right," he raises his hands in defense, but with a wide smile on his face. "Just wondering if I'm getting a stepdaddy. Or rather, stepbrother."
My chuckling turns right into a retching sound. "Even if I had a boyfriend, if you ever call him 'stepdaddy' you're disowned."
"Not that there's much to get, but fair enough," Luke presses out through laughter and I shake my head at his antics. God, I'm going to miss that bugger.