Chapter 8
chapter eight
I was having a very horrible day. I hadn’t slept more than three hours over the course of three days.
I kept dropping shit. I’d burned my toast this morning.
And the second piece I’d tried to make after.
My water had suddenly been shut off because of a water main leak, meaning I couldn’t even shower at the house this morning.
It was awkward as hell to run into Driftwood with a change of clothes, a towel, and basically my entire bathroom with me.
Mav had been here because of course he was. Apparently, his five nieces and nephews had been causing absolute chaos, and his sister, brother-in-law, and mom had all been getting into it again. At least I wasn’t the only one losing sleep. I was glad he had the room he could crash in, though.
Thank God I had a full bathroom close to my office. I was able to shower in peace, but then my hair didn’t want to work right. There were pieces sticking up every which way and I didn’t want that, but they’d decided not to listen to me. Oh, and my mustache was being equally as fucking difficult.
No control. I’d had no fucking control over anything that’d been happening, and I was fucking pissed about it.
At this point, the nightmares weren’t what kept me up.
I just couldn’t fall asleep. I’d lie awake at night, all fucking night, unable to fall asleep no matter how long I’d kept my eyes closed.
No matter how much warm milk I’d drunk. No matter how deep I stuck earplugs in my ears, or how loud the white noise was, or how long I’d worked out before bed to try to get my body exhausted enough to sleep.
I’d read the book I’d bought at Pride and Pages twice and even started going through the author’s other books online.
I was fucking reading. I didn’t read. But I was desperate to fall the fuck asleep, and I couldn’t.
When I finally would, I’d startle awake, gasping for air over and over again while the water filled my lungs and I flailed my arms, and I tried to scream for my friends, begging them to help me out, but they didn’t.
They never did.
I’d drown. Over. And over. And over again.
No control. I needed control.
Growling at myself in the mirror, I splashed more water on my face and grabbed the shaving cream. After putting an unnecessary amount on my hand, I slathered it over my jaw and upper lip. If my facial hair didn’t want to cooperate, I’d just shave it the fuck off.
That I could control. I could decide. I had half a mind to shave my entire head, honestly. I didn’t, but I did shave off my mustache and what little beard I had. The mustache didn’t even look that good on me, so I guessed I was doing myself a favor anyway.
Once I looked and felt slightly more human, I grabbed a trash bag from the janitor’s closet and put my dirty clothes into it.
I’d have to store everything in my office until I could bring them back home later.
But then, on my way down the hallway to my office, the damnedest thing happened.
The fucking bag ripped. Tore straight at the bottom, and all my clothes fell right onto the ground.
Could anything else go wrong? Was I destined to have the shittiest day possible?
“Whoa. Looks like you’re having quite the day, huh?”
I turned to Mav, holding the torn bag in my hand. “You could say that.” I sighed.
“Here, let me help.”
He started to bend down, but I stopped him. “You don’t need to do that. Those are my dirty clothes you were about to touch.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “I live with a lot of kids and multiple childish adults. I think I can handle it. But if you don’t want me to, that’s fine. Let me get you a new bag, at least.”
I leaned against the wall, staring at the clothes on the floor.
Today was seriously out to test me. I didn’t like receiving help.
I didn’t like needing it, either. I didn’t like admitting when I was having a shitty fucking day, but goddamn, Mav was always there.
Fuck, I wished he didn’t always have to be here.
He deserved a home where he could feel safe, but that would mean leaving his mom, nieces, and nephews in absolute chaos, and Mav was too good a guy to do that.
Thank God I had a place where he could just exist. Everyone deserved to have a place where they could just exist. Even if it was a makeshift room in a tiny-ass closet with a super small cot as a bed.
He came back out of the janitor’s closet and handed me a trash bag. “Here. I need to order more of these, too. Do you want to help me get a list together of shit we need?”
I shoved all my clothes in the intact trash bag and nodded. “Yeah. Anything to keep me occupied from thinking about this horrific day, honestly.”
“Why did you shower here and not at home?”
I glared at him. “That’s a part of the horrific day. Water is shut off because of a leak.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’ll do it. Have you had any coffee yet?”
“No. That would require making a cup, which would need water.”
He hissed through his teeth. “Yeah, no, that makes sense. Come on, let’s start with coffee, and then we can compile a list.”
This was why Mav had been working here for as long as he had.
He was good at making sure I didn’t crumble while also making sure the bar didn’t crumble.
Usually, I’d be the one to handle all the ordering.
I liked knowing exactly what we were low on, and I liked being the one to place the order.
He knew that. But he was offering to do it with me so I wouldn’t completely go off the deep end.
Christ, did I want to go off the deep end. Maybe drowning would be easier than being plagued by the memory of it day in and day out.
There had been very few major disasters since we’d opened, thankfully. I wasn’t sure how many more I could handle. Unfortunately, we continued to have very minor ones, and when the minor ones piled up, it started to feel like a huge one.
A few glasses had been broken, one of our drafts stopped working, the internet kept going in and out… Quite literally everything that could’ve gone wrong had gone wrong, and I was fucking tired of it.
Maybe this was karma. For what, I wasn’t sure, but I must’ve deserved it.
Mav had mostly kept me in check, reminding me of all the things that were going right, but I was so focused on how little control I had over everything around me that it was hard to really listen to him.
A bottle had somehow slipped off the counter and onto the floor, shattering everywhere behind the bar.
I’d just gotten the glass swept up when the door opened again.
Assuming Melissa could handle it, I bent down to pick up the dustpan, only to fumble enough that some of the glass tumbled right back out.
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying not to scream. I really wanted to scream.
We didn’t have long until we closed, though. Not much longer, and then I’d be able to go home and hope that my water was turned back on. Then, I’d slip into my bed and lie awake, sleepless, much like the rest of my nights.
I swept everything back into the dustpan and carefully lifted it, dunking all the glass shards into the trash can beneath the bar. When I rose from the ground, I had to hold back a groan and a roll of my eyes.
Forrest smirked, staring right at me. “Hi, beautiful. Odd seeing you here.”
“It’s almost like I own the place. How weird.”
He put his face in his hands, tilting his head. “Do you ever get a day off?”
I didn’t want a day off. Working on shit was the only thing that’d kept me going thus far, and I wasn’t about to give that up.
If I didn’t have something to pour my all into, I was sure I’d slowly lose pieces of myself I desperately needed to function.
“You should know how it is. Running a business isn’t for the weak.
” I leaned against the bar counter. “What can I get for you tonight?”
“Are you on the menu?”
“My name is all over this building, including the menu. But I can’t say that I’m available for purchase.”
He frowned. “What a shame. I see you’ve shaved. It looks good.”
I peered down the bar, noticing a few people sitting at the very end. They shouldn’t have been close enough to hear any part of our conversation, but I’d rather be safe than sorry, so I leaned closer and whispered. “What are you really here for, Forrest?”
“Do you even have to ask that? I gave you a free pass last time. I’m here to flirt.”
Right. He hadn’t flirted with me at Pride and Pages.
I still wasn’t exactly sure why I’d gone over there in the first place.
Initially, I really did have an interest in the book, but I was going to buy the digital copy.
I could’ve done that and avoided seeing him altogether, which was the whole point.
I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want him to keep pestering me over and over again, trying to get me to go on a date with him, which I didn’t do. Which I didn’t want to do.
But goddamn it, he was persistent. His persistence and determination had leaked into my brain, and all I could think about was seeing him again. He hadn’t come into Driftwood in a while, and I was honestly getting worried. Kind of.
I hadn’t missed him. Nope. Not in the slightest. I hadn’t missed the way it made me feel when he’d relentlessly flirt with me, always somehow showing up at the exact moment I didn’t need him to.
I didn’t miss his smile or the air of confidence that followed him.
Or how shy I’d seen him be when Crew, Willow, and I had run into him at his bookstore.
I didn’t miss the way his glasses made him look ten times hotter, which honestly should’ve been illegal.
I hadn’t been missing Forrest Castillo. Even if I had a little bit. He hadn’t grown on me. He hadn’t become the bright spot of my days. I’d just wanted to support his store by buying the book there instead.
But then he hadn’t even tried to flirt with me, and it got me all fucked up in the head. I’d started to wonder if I’d finally scared him off like I knew I would. Like I’d hoped I had. There was no room for his magic in my life, even if I’d started to want it. Which I hadn’t.
Shaking my head, I looked into his eyes. His big, gorgeous brown eyes. They reminded me of all the good things in the world wrapped up in one gaze. “You can’t stay away, can you?”
He shrugged. “Neither can you, it seems. Come on, Jack. You came to my bookstore for a reason, didn’t you?”
“To buy a book, yeah.”
“No, I think you wanted to see me. You wanted me to flirt and ask you out. You wanted me to do it, whether you admit it to yourself or not.”
Was he wrong? Not exactly. I just didn’t want to admit it yet. “I think you’re reaching, actually.”
Running a hand through his hair, Forrest leaned back, sitting upright on the barstool.
“Okay. This is the last time I’ll ever come to bother you.
If you want to come home with me, say it now.
Say yes, and I won’t walk out of here. But if you don’t…
If you really don’t want to see me again or want to come into my bed with me, then say it now.
Say no, and I’ll walk out. No questions.
No comments. No more flirting. I’ll leave and never intentionally seek you out again. ”
“No date invitation?” I wished I’d had more control over my tongue, but the words slipped out almost automatically.
“Not unless you want one, Jack. I want you. I want you back in my bed. I’d rather we go on a date and get to know each other, but if all you want is to be fucked into a coma, then I’ll gladly do that as well. No skin off my back.”
Was I actually considering his offer? So far, everything had gone horribly wrong, and the whole idea of clinging onto control wasn’t working for me. I couldn’t control a damn thing. Maybe I should give it up for a night. Give it to him.
He leaned closer again, whispering. “It’s your choice. It’s always been your choice. But I think a part of you keeps thinking about me. You wanted me to flirt. You wanted me to ask you out. Are you going to run from me, baby, or are you going to come back home with me?”
I didn’t do repeats. Doing repeats meant giving someone control again.
It meant giving them the ability to see straight into my tattered, broken soul.
I’d have to confront the truth—that I didn’t have control.
Nor did I even actually want it. I just needed it.
For some fucked-up reason, I needed it, no matter how exhausting it constantly was.
Fuck, I wanted him to take it. Take it all away for another night like he had before. And then maybe he’d fuck me hard enough that I’d fall asleep again.
Forrest was hot. He was hot, sweet, determined, and a little bit nerdy. The small glimpses I’d gotten to see of him almost made me uncomfortable. He wasn’t a stranger anymore. Then again, was that so bad?
The magic he gave me last time had been a literal dream come true. He’d handled me exactly how I’d needed, and he’d cooked me breakfast the next morning, all while dancing in his underwear.
Everything had gone wrong, and going home with Forrest sounded all kinds of right.
I let my shoulders fall as I thought about the moans he’d ripped from me before. The mind-blowing, intimate way he’d ruined me so fucking well. I wanted to be under him again. I wanted to be under his control, and usually, that would’ve scared me. I was simply too tired to care now, though.
I glanced at Melissa, who was handling the customers at the end of the bar, and then at Mav, who was cleaning up for closing soon. Finally, my eyes landed on an expectant Forrest. “I’ll meet you at your apartment. It’ll only take me a few minutes.”
He smiled, standing from the barstool. “I’ll be waiting for you, Jack.”
I knew he would be. I’d be waiting for him, too. Waiting for him to tear me apart piece by piece until I was nothing but exposed nerve endings, too on edge to care about anything but him.
Nothing was in my control. Not even the way my heart started to beat faster at the idea of feeling his hands on me again. The scariest part of it all was the fact that I wasn’t scared about it in the slightest.