Darlin’

6. Good Vibes Only

Good Vibes Only

"Savannah!" Jesse yells, his stomping footsteps jerking my body off the bed. He’s finally home. "Come out here, right fucking now!"

I smile like the dang Cheshire Cat as I check the clock on the side table and peel the Vitamin C sheet mask off my face. It's eleven at night. Better late than never, I suppose. I was worried I'd fall asleep before he got home and saw the wonderfully amazing upgrades I made to his living quarters.

He's been gone all day. It wasn't wise to leave me alone for fourteen hours with no wi-fi password, a finicky cable box, and no freaking food. And with the sun blocked off by dreaded clouds, what's a bored gal to do other than redecorate?

"Savannah!" Jesse pounds his ?fist against my bedroom door three times, each bang louder and more aggressive than the last. Oh, he's mad. Perfect. "Open the door."

Stifling a melody of devious giggles, I unlock the door and pop my head out, giving Mr. Rochester a combative smile. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"What the fuck did you do to my house?" he asks, fuming.

I blink. "What?"

"Put it back the way it was, Savannah," he demands, lip twitching as his icy hazel eyes damn near harden my nipples. "Now."

I bat my lashes. "Put what back?"

He sucks in a labored breath, glaring at me. "My furniture."

"Your furniture?" I open the door, stepping through the frame as I crane my neck down the hall. “Hmm… I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, really? Let me jog your memory." Jesse coils his hand around my wrist and drags me down the hallway. He points to my handy work. "This little project ring a bell?"

"Oh...this..." I cross my arms, pouting as I nod impressively at the rearranged furniture. "I think it looks nice, doesn't it? Really opens up the space." I glance over at him, humming innocently, "Makes everything a little brighter, don’t ya think?”

"Fix it," he grunts. "Right now."

"I already did fix it," I say, weaving through the carefully curated furniture pieces. "See how easily I can float through the room? There's much better juju in here now." I toss him a sly smile. "You're welcome."

"Juju?" he asks, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I Feng Shui'd the place." I motion around the living room. "Can't you feel the difference? Isn't it more inviting..." I tilt my head, smirking. "Relaxing even."

He blinks at me. "Feng Shui?"

"Mhmm," I hum. "Feng Shui. You know, the practice of rearranging spaces to ensure harmony and balance between people and their environments.

" I release a forced sigh, perching on the edge of the armchair.

"You did say I needed to relax, and since I'm not allowed to leave this house, I thought it'd be important for my mental health to ensure my surroundings brought nothin' but good vibes. "

"Good...vibes?"

"Mhmm," I hum, crossing my arms over my light grey satin jammies. "Good vibes."

"I—" Jesse stammers, casting me an incredulous look.

He flaps his arms. "Listen , I've had a long ass day.

I don't have the energy to explain to you just how ridiculous you sound right now, okay?

" He runs a frustrated hand through his disheveled hair.

"I expect everything put back in its place before I wake up. "

"No," I state flippantly. "If you want to change it back, you do it." I nod to the entertainment cabinet. "You have no idea how difficult it was to untangle all those cords. I am not doing it again."

"Jesus fucking Christ," he mutters, closing his eyes. His posture relaxes into a docile stance. He knows he ain't gonna win this round. "She's crazy. She's literally crazy."

"Well, I am a Bertha , aren't I?" I ask in a bitter tone. "Quite on brand, don't you think?"

"Oh, you've captured her essence perfectly ," Jesse grumbles as he storms off to the kitchen. I grin, hopping off the armchair as I follow him. He opens the fridge and pulls out a beer, cracking it open. Jesse narrows his eyes as I smile at him. " What? "

"Nothin'," I sing, gaze darting to his cabinets. "Nothin' at all."

"What did you—" He spins around, opening the top cabinets. I cover my mouth, stifling a laugh as he grunts out every curse word known to man. "You color-coded my cereal?! What in the actual fuck, Savannah?"

"Cute, huh?" I hum, biting my lip. "Don't you just love it?"

"Fuck's sake," he groans, sinking down on a chair around the dining room table. "I can't do this shit for five more days." He peers up at me. "You might as well shoot me right now." He opens his arms. "Right there. Right in the heart."

"And you say I'm dramatic?" I scoff, eyeing the bags of groceries on the counter. "What's in the bags?"

"Nothing for you," he huffs, chugging his beer as I waltz toward the brown paper bags and peek inside. "Savannah?—"

"Aw," I gush, feeling a smidgen of guilt for messing with him. "You bought me my rabbit food."

"I'm returning it. You can starve to death for all I care," Jesse says, checking his phone as I rinse an apple in the sink. "Seriously?" He groans as he tosses his head back and looks heavenward. "Anything else? I'm ready, man. Bring it on."

I chomp on the honey crisp. “What happened?"

He whips his head at me. "You, that's what. "

"That Beau again?" I circle the table and sit across from Jesse. "He asking about me?"

"No, it's my fucking backup bartender," Jesse grumbles. "Fucker got mono." He shakes his head in disbelief. "What kind of adult gets mono? Isn't that shit for kids?"

"I don't know," I say with a shrug, disappointed Beau isn't checking up on me. "Never had it."

"Yeah." He scoffs. "I don't doubt it. It's called the kissing disease for a reason." He gives me a mocking scowl. "Means someone would actually wanna kiss you."

I roll my eyes. "Darlin', I've been kissed. Don't you worry about me."

"Poor bastard," Jesse mutters. "Probably died upon impact."

"Curious?" I ask, puckering up. "Let's see if I can put you out of your misery, huh?" I toss him fake smooches. "Well? Come on. Plant one on me, darlin'."

"Tempting offer," he says, clicking his tongue. "But on the off chance I don't shrivel up and die, I don't wanna live with the memory of you sucking on my face."

"I don't suck," I state sharply, immediately regretting my choice of wording, but it's too late.

"I don't doubt that either," he says, snorting at his wildly inappropriate joke. "Like I said, poor bastard ." He cocks his head as my blushing cheeks betray my collected exterior. "How's that apple treating you, babe? Juicy enough for ya?”

"Mhmm.” I take a giant bite, maintaining strong eye contact with Jesse. It'll take more than an underhanded and inaccurate jab for me to bow out. "I love 'em hard and juicy. "

His brow perks up. "Is that so?"

"Yup," I state, licking my lips seductively. "It's always been my preference."

"Yeah?" He relaxes into the chair, spreading his legs as he rests the beer can on his crotch. "How many apples have you had, princess?"

"Plenty," I lie, crossing my legs and keeping my fibbing tone level.

"Bullshit," he notes, skimming my uneasy features. Shoot . "I'm going to go out on a limb and say you've never tasted an apple in your life."

"Oh, I've tasted apples," I state, not necessarily lying. "Many of 'em."

"Mmm..." He licks his lips. "Don't buy it."

"Well, I ain't selling," I huff, swallowing. A subject change is in order. A-freaking-SAP. "So, you work at a bar?"

"Nice. Stop while you're ahead." He chuckles, combing his fingers through his beard.

Thankfully, he doesn't continue his acute observations of my limited sexual history.

"I don't work at a bar; I own a bar." He briefly glances over at his phone, muttering with frustration, "Although a bar with no bartender might be hard to keep afloat. "

I nibble on my bottom lip, freedom in sight. "I um...I know how to make drinks."

He snorts. "My patrons aren't really the cosmopolitan types."

"I can also pour beer," I add, sliding to the edge of my seat. "And shots. "

"Yeah? You know how to pour beer?" he hums, his sharp features glowing like the devil. "How's your head ?"

"It's um..." I clear my throat, placing the apple core on the table. Seriously? Who named that?! "I've been told I pour the best head."

"The best head, huh?" Jesse nods slowly. "I don't know, princess...a perfect head is hard to master." He leans forward, antagonizing me as he notes, "You're only twenty-one, right? How much practice have you really had?"

We both know he ain’t talking about beer anymore, but I refuse to let an opportunity pass me by. Freedom is in sight!

"Enough," I say, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "I helped cover some of my sorority sister's shifts when she went on vacation this past semester. I was a natural."

"Sorority?" He scoffs. "Wow. I mean, makes sense."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I ask defensively. "Got a problem with a sisterhood?"

"Bunch of chicks living in one house?" A sleazy grin spreads on his face. "Hardly call that a problem. You guys have pillow fights?"

"Yeah, all the time," I scowl at him, sighing. "Right after we oil up and dance naked in the halls."

"Damn." He chuckles. "Got any videos?"

I roll my eyes. "You wish."

"Oh, I do," he says, finishing off his beer as he gives me a once over. "I really, really do."

"I bet," I say, suddenly very aware of the fact that my jammies are rather revealing. "So, umm...what do you say? "

Jesse stands up and tosses the beer can in the sink. "To what?"

"To me being your new bartender," I say. "I think it's a win-win. I get my so-called freedom, and you get help until mono-boy recovers."

"You wouldn't last a day at The Hog," Jesse notes, unpacking the bags of groceries and shoving the produce in the fridge. "I don't think it's really"—he peers over the open refrigerator door—" your vibe ."

"You don't think I can handle a few drunken men?" I ask, tilting my head. "Trust me, I can hold my own."

"I'd love to see you try," he says, shutting the door. "But no."

"Come on, Jesse," I whine. "Give me a chance, huh? I can't spend the next five days cooped up in this house like a chicken held hostage." I pause before adding, "Plus, I might get the urge to spruce up a few other rooms if I'm left to my own devices. Please... "

He leans against the fridge, contemplating my fate. "This is going to be a disaster; I can already see it."

"It won't!" I jump out of my seat. "I'll be good, I promise! I'll go in, pour beer, keep my head down, and then go home. No drama, no Feng Shui, no problems."

He snorts. "If you Feng Shui my bar, we're for sure going to have problems."

"I won't touch even a peanut," I state with a sharp head nod. "It's only for a few days, Jesse. Come on, what's the harm in letting me help out? You won't even have to pay me! Free labor, isn't that the dream of every business owner? Huh? "

"No shit, I'm not going to pay you," he says, nodding inside the fridge. "Rabbit food ain't cheap, princess."

"See? Think of this as me earning my keep, so to speak," I say eagerly. "I'll even give you my tips as a thank you for being such a kind , understanding, and generous boss."

He grins, amused. “Are you trying to suck up to me?"

"I don't know," I mutter quietly. "Is it working?"

"I'd be your boss," Jesse muses, gears whirring in his head as he looks down at me. "That would mean you'd need to listen to me."

"I'm excellent at following orders," I state, straightening my posture. "You say jump, I yell, 'how high?!'"

He snorts. "No yelling in my bar."

"How high?" I whisper, eliciting a tiny smile from my future employer. "See? Quick learner too."

"Jesus." Jesse shakes his head, sighing quietly. "They're going to eat you alive."

"I'll be fine," I insist. "I'm real good with people."

He blinks. "I've seen no evidence of this."

I frown. "Well, I haven't had the opportunity to showcase my dazzling personality yet."

"Dazzling?"

"Yes," I state proudly. "That's what won me Miss Greensville a few years back. Check the local papers if you don't believe me."

"Oh, fuck me," Jesse grumbles to himself almost inaudibly. "I must be desperate."

"Come on, come on, come on," I beg, tugging on his sleeve. "Say yes! Please, please, please, please, please. "

"Jesus, do you come with a fucking off switch?" Jesse asks, removing my hand from his shirt.

"I'll come with whatever you want if you say yes."

"Fuck man..." Jesse presses his lips together, his eyes glowing with humor I don't quite understand. "Fine," he says begrudgingly. "One day. I'll give you one day to prove to me that you can act like a normal person." He narrows his eyes. " Normal ."

"Hey, I'm as normal as sweet tea on a summer's day," I say, beaming. "Eee! This is so exciting!" I pause, mentally flipping through the limited wardrobe I brought with me. "Where's your bar located? What's the ambiance like?"

“Bar’s attached to the clubhouse, princess,” Jesse says with a knowing smirk, and my giddiness wavers. Oh . "That a problem?"

"No," I peep. Why did I think it'd be far, far away from those people. "Not at all."

"Great," Jesse says. "Go get some sleep. We'll head there in the morning." Working at a biker bar beats watching the paint dry for hours on end, but boy, maybe this was a mistake. My shoulders slump as I head to the bathroom. "Oh, and Savannah?"

I crane my neck toward Jesse's teasing voice. "Yeah?"

"Wear pants tomorrow." His lips clip up into a devilish grin. "We're taking the bike."

"Can't wait," I mutter with a whimper. I have to sit on a death machine?! "Goodnight."

May it not be my last.