Twenty-Two
I had a lot of space for some time.
The band had been gone for a few days, taking part in gigs in other towns nearby. Because of this, Carter didn’t return until late at night. I was in bed by that point, pretending to be asleep. And every time he stepped through the door, he’d stop and check in on me.
I forced the distance more than I ever did before. I needed to do it as a way to measure just how attached to him I’d become.
The results were disturbing.
He was on my mind every second. I could hardly function without contact. I grabbed at my phone every half hour, fighting the urge to text him and see what he was up to. I felt down when he didn’t text me, either. I felt panicked at the same time, wondering if he was completely fine while I was drowning in the silence.
I felt like a bunny boiler.
“You gotta toughen up,” Melanie told when I opened up to her about it. “You’re attached to him way too much. You need to be your own person.”
She was right.
“How do I do that?” I asked her. “He’s all I’ve ever really known, Mel. We grew up together. I did everything with him. He’s the only person that’s been my constant and…”
“If he’s like a drug, Leah, then you need to go through withdrawal. Keep yourself occupied. Don’t give yourself time to think.”
I followed her advice.
My armour went on. Things gradually did change over time, and I worked very hard to detach my feelings when it came to him. I focused on earning the money at the bar, being supportive of the band, and spending time with Melanie outside of work.
Distractions followed by more distractions—that was the only thing I could do. I didn’t even like to be alone and idle. I needed to be always doing something.
The distance I forced seemed to help. It didn’t solve the problem, but it pushed it back so I faced it later. Which was a coward’s move, I know, but it was working fine with me.
When he returned from all his shows, it was harder when he was around. I worked hard in the evenings, running from table to table, avoiding Carter’s like it didn’t exist. He knew something was up, and he tried to make it up most nights in bed. But I pushed him away, telling him I was tired and needed space. He gave me that space and I was thankful he at least respected my wishes.
It was two weeks after that “friend” incident that I found myself leaning back against the wall of the bar, watching him sing a sad song, that I touched on thoughts of letting him go. It hurt too much. In fact, my chest ached, and my vision swam, but I questioned the alternative.
I’d be hurt if I let him go, but would having him and not necessarily having him hurt more? If I carried the pain during my academic years, was it going to fuck it up for me? Because concentrating on things other than him these days seemed like the world’s biggest chore. How was it going to be like during an exam? Or studying for that exam?
My mental health could not afford to be fucked. I needed a better life. I wanted to be something, and I couldn’t do that if I was hung up on a guy that viewed me as his fucking friend.
It was a move that made sense to me.
“So, I’ve been curious to know your name.”
I jumped and whipped my head to the side. I blinked twice at the man standing next to me before I realized who he was. That dark haired man—the eavesdropper from before—was sidling up next to me. He’d come around a few times since that night, and I only began noticing him because of that awkward moment.
His eyes then dropped to my chest, and I thought he was checking out my boobs until he said, “Ah. Melanie.”
I cringed. Wore the wrong uniform again . I’d hardly noticed after losing a bit more weight lately. “No, no. I’m wearing my friend’s uniform. I’m Leah.”
“Leah. That’s a very pretty name.” He nodded, a sexy smile forming. “I’m Peter.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
Cue awkward silence.
Well, maybe just on my end. He got comfortable next to me, indicating he was most definitely not going to go anywhere anytime soon, and we watched the band in silence. I hoped he’d eventually move on and leave me alone.
I wasn’t in the mood to socialize.
Distracting me, I spotted a girl jumping and screaming over Carter’s voice. “I want you! Be with me! I want you, Caaaaarterrrrrrr!” she shrilled.
I felt a shudder all the way to my bones. Could you be any more blatant?
“Know them?” Peter then asked, motioning to the band. “Noticed you were around them a while back.”
“Yeah,” I answered. “They’re good guys.”
“They sound great.”
“Only because they’ve poured a lot of hard work the last year into their music.”
“I can tell. Being in a band isn’t easy.”
“Yeah, I couldn’t do it.”
Sometimes it stressed me out when they started putting songs together after Carter finished writing one. There was so much that went into it, and it took true talent to weave the sounds in the way they did.
“I’m new to the area,” he then said, scooting a little closer to me. He smelled pretty good, nothing overwhelming like some of the guys here, but it made me uncomfortable just the same. I scooted away. “Do they always play here?”
I nodded shortly. “Yeah, sometimes they go to other bars or events, but it’s mainly here.”
“Cool.”
Realizing he wouldn’t go away and needing to find a way not to obsess over the girl and her shrilling voice, I sighed and asked, “How new are you around here?”
“About a month. I just graduated and got offered a job here in town.”
“Congratulations.”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing to brag about.”
I nearly scoffed. This guy just got his degree, something I’d been dreaming about for years, and he was playing it off like it was nothing.
“What’d you study?” I asked curiously.
“Accounting,” he answered.
Now my interest suddenly perked. “No way, so am I.”
His eyes widened. “No shit?”
“Well, I will be anyway in September.”
“Good luck. Hope you do better than me.”
“Why? Is it hard? Please don’t tell me it’s hard. I’m so nervous about the first year. Like I’ll fail epically or something. I hardly was able to wrap my head around bookkeeping, and this is way more intense.”
He laughed. “Don’t freak out. First year is always the hardest because you gotta get your head wrapped around everything. I’d say the way you study is going to change drastically.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. A lot of work, but if you stick it out, you should get into the swing of things.”
I nodded, taking on board his words wholeheartedly. “Okay.”
He seemed a lot more interested in talking now. “What made you want to go into it?”
“I like accounting. I’m good with numbers.”
My favourite heroine from one of my steamy—and cheesy—reads had been an accountant, and something about pencil skirts and an office job was tempting beyond belief. Also, I loved money. Who doesn’t when they grew up with nothing?
We chatted a little more. He told me about the courses he took, and I tentatively listened. He was actually very helpful, and I found myself excited for things to come. Like, perhaps, I hadn’t picked a degree that was out of my depth after all.
Sometime during the conversation, I stopped thinking about the shrilling girl and looked back at the band. A lightning spike of alarm shot through me when I saw Carter’s eyes on mine. He didn’t look happy at all, and I stilled, wondering what I did that was so wrong. It wasn’t like I was dangling my boobs in this guy’s face. Not that my boobs were big enough to be dangled anywhere, but you get the point.
“Yay, you found her,” Mel suddenly said, stopping in front of us. She stared at Peter with a huge smile. “You know, my girl here loves to dance.”
“Not really,” I immediately replied, scowling at her.
“Oh, don’t be shy, babe. Go and have fun. I’ll cover you for another five.”
I looked at Peter and realized he’d already extended his hand out to me.
Oh, fuck.
There was that brief split second of indecision. I tried to find the right words to say no, but anything I said would sound like a flat-out rejection, and I didn’t want to humiliate him. You couldn’t live that kind of awkwardness down, right? Plus he’d been sweet, and he hadn’t attempted to flirt.
It’s just a dance, Leah, calm your tits.
With a sigh, I finally took his hand with my own. He led me to the dance floor just as Mel whispered in my ear, “You’ll thank me later.”
Thank her later? I didn’t fucking think so!
Peter pulled me close to him and I naturally slipped my arm around his neck. Everything about it felt all wrong to me, so I turned my head to avoid looking him in the eyes. I looked over at Mel and she was having a field day, glancing up at Carter and then at me. She secretly gave me a thumbs up and scurried off to collect empty glasses from deserted tables.
The bar had slowed down heaps. It was close to closing time, so there weren’t many people left, except for the groupies swooning over Carter like a bunch of pussies in heat. I didn’t once look at him as I rocked to and fro with Peter, but when the guy started to lower his hand down my spine, I took his arm and pulled it back up.
He chuckled at the move. “Sorry, it just slipped, I swear.”
Yeah, I was sure it did.
As soon as the song ended, his friends at his table hollered and whistled. Peter laughed again, a little red in the face. I pulled away from him and nervously tucked my hair behind my ear. I didn’t have time to find an escape route because one his friends called out, “Hey, Peter, introduce us to your blondie!”
Peter looked nervous and shook his head at me. “Sorry. Do you mind…?”
I stared at the guys, both drunk and grinning like mischievous idiots. I shrugged at Peter and followed him to the table. He introduced me to them, and I didn’t even remember their names the second Peter said them. I was too busy glancing over my shoulder at the guys who were starting to pack their instruments away.
Carter was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s the other girl?” one of the guys asked. “She’s so hot!”
I cringed. “Melanie?”
“Melanie? Is that her name? Fuck, that’s a nice name. There’s a lot I can do with that name.”
Peter cleared his throat, looking between his friends and me, seeming a bit uncomfortable. “They’re just a bit drunk,” he told me quietly. “I’m the designated driver, so I gotta put up with their shit…”
“It’s okay,” I assured him, eager to escape.
“Whatever!” one of them said. “You’re just as bad! Don’t lie.”
Peter’s face fell as he glared at his friends.
That was my cue to go. “Well, look, I gotta go back to work and help my friend out, okay?”
He looked back at me and nodded. “Sure.”
“Get her number!” one of his friends pushed. “Don’t be a pussy!”
“I don’t give my number to strangers,” I replied, looking at him. “That’s just one of my rules. Sorry.”
I noticed the disappointment flooding his face as he nodded once at me. “Stranger? Shit, right. Sorry for putting you on the spot like that. Of course you don’t know me…Well, anyway, I’ll just see you around then, Leah.”
“Yeah, sure.”
He smiled. “Great. Good night.”
I hesitantly smiled back, and he gently touched my arm and pulled away. I returned to work, and I felt bad because I could hear his friends laughing at him. I didn’t have it in me to turn around and look.
I was glad I didn’t give him my number. There was absolutely no chemistry there, and the thought of starting any kind of friendship with another guy made my stomach turn. It was too exhausting.
Sighing, I resumed my thoughts while cleaning up tables before I heard loud curses and turned to see what the commotion was. I blanched at the sight of Carter shoving Peter back.
“Got a problem with me?” he growled at him. “Because you’re looking at me like you do, tough guy.”
Peter’s drunk friends stood up to defend him, and Carter barely paid mind. His eyes stared fixedly at Peter as he got closer to him, standing face to face, poking him in the chest as he said something to him in a low voice. I couldn’t hear anything, but Melanie was standing behind them and her jaw had dropped.
“Man, what the fuck is your problem!” I heard Peter shout.
“You’re the fucking problem!” Carter seethed. “Don’t think I didn’t hear what you said, you little shit!”
“Then don’t fucking eavesdrop—”
Carter grabbed hold of his shirt and shook him. And then it turned ugly fast. Peter tried punching him, but Carter blocked him with his left arm and swung at him with his right, landing a punch across the face, knocking Peter back.
I heard shouts as Rome and Leo intervened immediately, untangling his fist from Peter’s shirt. Rome turned to Carter, looking angry as he shoved him out of Peter’s face, ordering him to let go. Carter continued holding his ground until Peter motioned for his friends to go.
“Pussies!” Carter hollered at them.
They hurried out of the bar and then Rome dragged Carter into the back office. Before he disappeared down the hall, Carter looked back over his shoulder. My chest tightened when I met his gaze.
He was beyond pissed.
*
“What happened?” I demanded after the customers had gone and the boys were getting ready to leave.
Carter still hadn’t emerged from the backroom, but Rome had, and he didn’t look at me once as he helped the boys out. I’d dragged Melanie into the ladies room just to get an explanation.
“Carter said he was walking to the bar to get some drinks when he heard those guys talking about you,” she explained. “They said something very crude, and when Carter approached them to repeat it, Peter asked him why it was his business. That was when I stopped to listen in. Carter didn’t like being spoken to that way, and he kicked Peter’s chair back. Peter got up and Carter started goading him. Shit went swiftly downhill after that.”
“Christ,” I cursed. “Do you know what they said about me exactly? Carter wouldn’t have just flown off the handle without good reason.”
She shrugged. “He wouldn’t tell Rome. And even if he did, Rome refused to divulge with me. Asshole.”
I glowered now as the weight of the situation settled on me. Carter could have gotten into trouble if the fight had escalated, and what if they’d damaged the bar? We couldn’t afford to make these mistakes.
I pinned Melanie with a defeated look. “You know, this would have been completely avoided if you didn’t get him to approach me, Mel.”
“I did it for you , Leah!”
“Why?”
“Because you’re being walked all over by Carter. You need to be woken up. I thought he’d see you with that guy and start to realize what you meant to him. He needs to face reality that you won’t be waiting around for him.”
I frowned at her and crossed my arms. “I’m not being walked all over.”
She sighed in defeat. “Friends with benefits never works out for anybody, not unless one party agrees to give the other more.”
“You’re under the assumption that one of them will always want more.”
“Leah, sex with a random stranger or someone you know lightly can come with no strings attached. But sex with the same guy that you live with and spend almost every moment with can’t. You have a history with the guy. You started this off feeling for him. He’s exploding in popularity. Girls are drooling at their tables just to get near to him, and it’s only going to get worse.”
“What does that have anything to do with my relationship with him?”
The concern poured out of her eyes as she placed a hand on my shoulder. “Imagine girls putting their hands all over him, and him allowing them because he’s technically not doing anything wrong. That’s essentially what’s happening, right? You see the girls rubbing their chests against his shoulder and leaning so close, he could probably feel their breaths against his face. It’s hurting you, and that’s because you’re in love with him. He needs to know that. It’s only fair on him that he keeps proceeding with this arrangement if he knows how you’re feeling. You have needs too and you’re settling for less. Guys like the one you danced with tonight would bend over backwards to have a chance with you. Stop undervaluing yourself.”
With that, she gave me a hug and said good night, leaving me to mull her words over in the restroom alone. I stared at myself in the mirror for a while, fighting back my emotions.
She was right, wasn’t she?
I needed to hear this. I know I did.
It still stung, and I wound up rubbing my chest, taking deep breaths, knowing that this time around no one was going to come in here and make me feel better.
I couldn’t keep doing this.