Chapter 8
EIGHT
CASEY
Everything I knew about making foolish decisions came crashing down on me when I woke up in my boss’s bed.
The weight of his arm across my chest settled me, which didn’t make sense, but I was going with it.
I knew what we’d done last night was probably not the greatest idea.
I mean, the sex was fantastic—but the decision to have it? Not as great.
“You’re thinking too much,” a gravelly voice whispered in my ear.
“You can’t hear me thinking.”
“I can, and you are,” came the answer. Still whispered, still gravelly, and still sexy as hell.
“I had a really good time,” I said, trying to move the conversation in a different direction. “Oh dear Lord, I sound like I’m about to give you a review on Yelp or something.”
“Eight out of ten, but lost points for being slow on the uptake?”
“No deduction for that.”
“I’m gonna need you to be in charge of all reviews.”
I really liked that Travis could laugh at himself.
There was something about men who thought they had to be serious and stoic, and I guess, given his former profession, I would’ve thought Travis was the same way.
But he wasn’t. He got excited, thought things were fun, did the dumb things and enjoyed them, and it made me feel better about being a little.
Not that I necessarily felt bad about being one because there’s nothing wrong with it, but sometimes it’s hard not to wonder if you shouldn’t like the things you do.
“Bub, I’m gonna need you to turn that brain of yours off.”
“Again, you can’t know what I’m thinking.”
“I know enough to tell that every time you think of something you don’t like, you tense. Then you talk yourself out of it and relax again until the next bad thought hits, and you tense right back up. You’ve done it three times already this morning.”
“It’s kind of creepy that you can do that.”
“It’s years of having to read people. You notice the little things.”
I shifted so I was facing him. “What do you mean?”
“When you’re on the ice, you have to be able to figure out what their eyes are signaling or what their feet position means.” Travis’s fingers threaded through the longer strands of my hair. “I’m gonna guess you’re thinking that sleeping with your boss is a bad idea.”
“It is a bad idea.”
We’d talked about it last night, but now it was morning, and it felt different. Last night had been pillow talk and whispered words. This morning was the cold light of day and the edges felt unfinished. How and where it would shake out was still very much unwritten, but I knew some things.
I liked how I felt around Travis. Calling him Daddy gave me the warm fuzzies, and I loved the connections I was making here. I hadn’t even been looking for a city and couldn’t remember ever not even browsing. It was like a hobby, but not one I wanted right now, and that was definitely not me.
Every time he looked at me like that, it forced something loose inside me, warm and a little scary.
“How about this…? We agree not to be assholes.”
“Is anything really that simple?” Every part of me wanted that to be enough of a solution, but it felt too simple, too easy.
“Yeah, I own the bar, but I’m not the manager.”
“And I am only working part-time for the holidays…”
“There ya go. Problem solved.” Travis shifted so he loomed over me. “Gonna need it sealed with something besides a handshake.”
“My guy, have you not heard of morning breath?” I tried to duck my head away because eww. He was lovely and sexy. Travis’s tousled hair looked more windblown than bedhead. His eyes weren’t blurry. They were hooded. No one had the right to look this good before getting out of bed.
“I don’t give a shit about that,” Travis answered before pressing his full lips to mine. Rather than keep on with an argument I didn’t want to win, I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned his kiss. Whatever worries I had about the wisdom of this were promptly shoved out of my brain.
Travis’s tongue stroked mine, and rational thought went out that window. His weight pressed me back into the pillow-top mattress. In that moment, it felt right and perfect.
Boss, smoss.
This man set my body on fire.
Casey
Uh, what is going on?
Unknown number 1
You’re in the group chat.
Casey
What group chat?
Unknown number 2
Ours, silly.
Unknown number 3
Wait, you didn’t get his number from him?
Unknown number 1
What difference does that make? He’s here now, so yay!
Unknown number 3
Maybe he doesn’t want to be in your group chat?
Unknown number 4
Do you have a fever? Everyone wants to be in the group chat.
Unknown number 1
Correct. Best one evah!
Casey
Still lost
Unknown number 4
This is Nico.
Unknown number 1
Rory
Unknown number 3
Hey, it’s Anders.
Unknown number 2
Owen here.
Casey
Where did you get my number?
Owen
I might have told Barrett I needed to get in touch about actual work. If he asks, we talked about Stone and Vine.
Unknown number 5
Jakob. In a lecture. Hey, Casey! Muting.
Owen
Are you mad?
Nico
Have you ever met Casey? He would never.
Rory
Well, we don’t know him as well as you do.
Nico
Wow. That was harsh, yo.
Casey
I think it worked out all right.
Nico
Same
Casey
@Owen, what on earth would I say about Stone and Vine?
Owen
You can have an opinion on the vibes. Never underestimate the importance of the vibes.
Rory
Vibes matter. Ask Anders—his vibes are always immaculate.
Anders
Not sure what my vibes are saying these days.
Rory
That you’re fab?
Anders
Or something.
Owen
That doesn’t sound promising.
Anders
It’s fine. I shouldn’t have said anything.
Nico
Babes, whose ass am I kicking?
Anders
Calm down, killer.
Owen
I’ll join in the beatdown.
Jakob
Unmuting for joining.
Casey
If I’m in the chat, then I’m in the ass-kicking too.
Rory
I know who deserves one.
Anders
I regret this entire thread.
Except for the you-joining part, Casey.
Nico
Still down for it.
Anders
Very sweet. Very unnecessary.
Casey
Thanks for adding me.
Rory
We needed to add you so we could invite you to the gingerbread house party.
Casey
Oh, that sounds fun. When, where, and what can I bring?
Owen
My house. I’ll send you the address. We were thinking next Wednesday evening? I checked the Stone and Vine schedule, and you’re off.
Rory
Candy, if you want, but there will be plenty if you don’t.
Owen
So it’s a yes?
Casey
It’s a yes.
“Do you believe in fate?”
After the conversation with Daddy—damn, I liked saying that—the other night, I was fully down for some holiday fun. I’d decided the ice skating rink was our first date official date, and that made the party our meet-cute. And it was romance-novel worthy.
“Fate, as in you can’t change what will happen, or happy coincidences are cool?” Drew asked.
As a server, he was terrible, but as a sounding board, he was stellar.
Right now, he was making butter cups completely wrong.
He tried hard, though, and that counted for a lot.
Rather than wait for him to keep doing it wrong, I grabbed his stack of steel butter dishes and the container of honey butter.
“Remember it’s a scoop, not a smear.” Drew smiled vaguely, shrugged, and pulled up a chair to watch me do his side work while he pulled my silverware and napkins toward him and did mine. “And somewhere in between?”
“So there’s this cool thing called Taku Waken in the Lakota culture that states that everything is interconnected…like a web, not a string.” Drew paused while he got his thoughts together, like he usually did. “Your fate isn’t prewritten, but the connections are there if you make them.”
“I could get behind that.”
“The Norse have a similar type of thing, but they also believe you can borrow someone else’s fate. You want to borrow mine?”
“I didn’t know it was an option. What are you offering?
” Drew’s talents didn’t lie within the service industry.
He messed up his prep work and his table drink orders usually had to be taken twice, but he tried hard and people loved him because he was so sincere.
What he was, though, was an artist who created beautiful mixed-media pieces that reminded me of the ones I’d seen in rich people’s galleries.
“Broke but reasonably happy because I finished the piece I’ve been working on.” That explained why he was so scattered today. He probably hadn’t slept more than a few hours over the last couple of days. “You can borrow my luck to finish whatever you need to do.” Drew’s smile went all cryptic on me.
“What makes you think I need to finish something?”
“Is that why you’re always moving somewhere new?” He looked genuinely perplexed at my confusion.
“What?” I moved because I liked to see new places and try new things. It wasn’t about finishing anything.
“What what?”
“Why would you think that?” Drew looked a little uncomfortable, as if he’d said too much. “I’m not mad or anything. Just curious how you see it.”
“I know you genuinely like to see new things. Lots of people do. It’s why people like to travel, but they come home. It’s like you’re searching for your home.”
“Hmm, that’s interesting.”
“What do I know… Did you move around a lot as a kid?”
“Nah, my parents live in the same house I grew up in.”
“And you get along well?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Not super close, but fine. We talk a few times a month. My mom is a secretary at a school, and my dad works in maintenance for the school district.”
“Not for you?”
“Nah, but I know they like the routine of it. Tuesday is church supper and Sunday is a roast.”
“Sounds like my folks, except supper is on Wednesday. Anyway, it was just me running my mouth. It just seems like you are looking for a place to stay. Why else make the connections if you want to leave?”