Chapter Nine
By the time the weekend rolls around again, it's time for work. Thursday night is a full house, but by Friday night the bar is packed to the max and then some. I'd like to think that it has something to do with the posts I've been making that's gaining a ton of traction. My last video for the bar had over a million views. I've only had to make two for the other company, so it hasn't taken off yet. I'm sure I'll be able to get it to hit as big as I did here with the right content.
I feel like I've been dancing for hours and am sweating from all of the body heat in the place. Yet, it doesn't stop people from wanting to drink. Two guys dressed in nice suits somehow manage to squeeze themselves into the two seats at the end of the bar. Hell, by the looks of them, they probably paid the previous occupants off to get their seats.
As I make my way down the line, filling drink orders, I finally make it to them. The dark-haired one who kind of has a ‘resting man-bitch’ face yells out asking for a beer. When I look to his friend so that I can retrieve their orders together, I startle so much that I almost drop the glass in my hand that I'm passing over the counter around Trinity's feet. There's something so achingly familiar about him. I could swear that I've seen him somewhere before. It's in his eyes.
He calls out his order and I have to ask him to repeat himself because I'm so distracted. I fetch their drinks and scoot them across the counter, exchanging them for the cash dark hair is sliding to me.
"Damn, Daryl," dark hair exclaims loud enough to be heard. "That girl looks just like you."
We look at each other for a few seconds, before I start to feel uncomfortable and look away. Not before I see his head tilt sideways slightly like he's thinking about something.
I try to make my way to the other side of the counter, but I keep getting stopped by orders, keeping me down their way. And the dark-haired man just won't shut up, no matter how much he's being ignored by literally everyone around him. Like bro, read the damn room.
"I swear to God," he's yelling. "She could be your damn daughter. That'd be hilarious, too. Big bad Daryl the D with a daughter dancing for men for money."
"Let's go," the man named Daryl shouts at his friend, giving him a hard push off his stool and parting the crowd in the process.
"Are you okay?" Trinity asks from up on the bar.
I nod affirmation, and go back to filling orders. It isn't until an hour or so later that I start thinking about it again. Probably has something to do with one of the men showing back up. The calm familiar friend sits in the same seat as before and patiently waits for me to make my way over to him.
He motions for me to lean over to him. "I'm sorry about the man I was in here with earlier. He's an idiot and has no manners. Especially when he starts drinking."
"It's okay," I tell him loudly to be heard.
"Would you mind if I ask you your name? And not in a weird way or anything," he states. "You just remind me of someone that I can't quite put my finger on."
I shake my head both in denial and refusal. "I doubt it. I'm not from around here."
Moving back completely to my side of the counter, I start to walk away when he calls me back. "Would you at least tell me your pack's name? I don't think we personally have crossed paths, but your mother or father maybe."
"I didn't grow up in a pack," I tell him unashamedly. "My mother had an alpha get her pregnant then run out on her the second they found out. Not just him. His entire pack."
I go to turn away, but the word he says next chills me to my bone. It's so low this time that I almost don't even hear it.
"What?" I ask, whipping back in his direction.
He's already out of his seat and pushing through the crowd again, but that doesn't stop me from calling out to him again. "WHAT DID YOU SAY?"
As I turn, thinking about jumping the counter and going after him, Ross gets in my face to be heard as he asks. "Everything okay?"
I look from him back out into the crowd where the stranger is already lost and know there's no way I'm catching him.
"Yes," I answer. "It's all good."
Diligently, I finish my shift and don't even take pleasure in counting my money tonight. I barely remember to tell the others bye before I make my way outside. Trinity quit using Palmer as her ride as soon as she found out that his pack was courting me even though we told her that we didn't mind. She confessed to having a new boyfriend anyway and wants him driving her home...when she goes back to campus and not to his apartment.
He's waiting patiently in his car for me. As soon as I crash into his seat, I lean over and give him a hug.
"Rough night?" he asks, his tone worried.
"Something like that," I tell him, taking deep breaths and soaking in as much of his scent as I can.
"Anything we need to talk or worry about?" he asks, rubbing circles in my hair.
"No," I answer. "I'm okay. The past two nights have just been really busy and I'm worn out. Still have one more night to go."
"Want to come over and stay the night tomorrow after work?" he tempts me.
I pull back into my own seat. "Is that a real question?"
He chuckles, knowing I'm teasing him and will be staying over. "Remember it'll just be three of us home this weekend. Brent is at his teachers’ seminar and Roz had to go out of town for work."
I remember that the other two are gone for sure. I'd been sad when they told me they were going, but duty calls. Brent had offered for me to come with him and Roz probably would've, too, if he hadn't heard me telling Brent that I couldn't because I didn't want to ditch work. My brain was definitely playing tricks on me earlier when I thought I saw Brent in the crowd. Must mean that I miss him or something.
I make it through the next night at work with no weirdos popping in and asking a bunch of questions, thankfully. By the time I'm cuddled in the bed with Palmer, the very last thing I have on my mind are the strangers from the night before.
We get up earlier than I normally would on a Sunday, but not by choice. Cordell had come in early this morning and asked if Palmer would drive him upstate, saying they'd only be gone a few hours. So, I give them both a kiss and go off in search of food in the kitchen.
I'm buttering a slice of wheat toast when Jake strolls in shirtless and raking a hand through his hair. "Good morning."
"Morning," I tell him.
He lifts an eyebrow at my sad, lonely piece of toast on my plate and frowns. "That's not a very good breakfast. Aren't you hungry? I'm starved."
He rubs his belly while opening the refridgerator and it makes me laugh. Turning to peer at me, he smiles like we're both sharing a joke. "Where did Palmer and Cordell rush off to?"
"I'm not sure," I answer. "Cordell just said he required Palmer's assistance and they left."
"Hmm," he murmurs. "Never can tell what's going on in that mind of Cordell's. He could be doing something really sweet or really crazy. Want to take bets on which one it is this time?"
I laugh again. "Do you normally?"
He shrugs. "Sometimes, to make things interesting. So, it's just me and you today?"
"Yep," I tell him, taking a bite of my toast.
"Okay, stop it," he demands, reaching out to ease my plate away after I set the toast down. "I can't sit here and watch you eat a slice of bread like you're in a prison or something. Let's order food and have it delivered. We can be lazy and watch movies all day."
I fight a smile, watching my lonely piece of bread get tossed into the compost bin. "Sounds like a plan. Oh, wait, I got you something."
"Me?" he asks stunned like no one has ever said those words to him ever. "You got me something?"
"Just a sec," I tell him, running out the door and up the stairs to Palmer's room where I dropped my bag last night.
I grab the package and run back down the stairs, slowing down as I make it to the bottom. It'd really suck to have my socks slip on the floors and end up spending the day in the hospital instead.
Jake is still standing in the exact spot I left him like he's worried that if he moves that I won't be able to find him to give him his gift. It makes my heart happy to see that he at least cares enough that I got it for him.
I hand him the package as I say, "Okay, it's nothing extravagant, but I found it the other day when I went into this random store by campus and thought of you."
He opens it, and I wish right then and there that I could capture his expression and save it forever. Unfolding the sweater, the socks that came with it drop out onto the counter and he laughs.
"Where did you say you found this?" he asks, smiling.
"That tiny weird shop that always smells like cabbage when you walk by," I reply.
He sniffs the sweatshirt, making me laugh again. "I made sure to air it out beforehand. Do you like it?"
If expressions could speak, his would say a thousand words. "Of course, I do. I just can't believe you found my favorite Troma on a sweatshirt in a weird cabbage shop for one. And for two, that you bought it for me. I don't think you get how this courting thing is supposed to work. We're supposed to be gifting you things."
"I do understand it," I tell him with fake snark. "I just saw it and knew you had to have it. So, I bought it."
He snorts, shaking his head. "I'm only keeping this on one condition. You have to keep the socks so that we'll match."
"Compromise," I offer. "How about I wear them the same day you wear your sweatshirt."
"Or we could wear them right now," he suggests. "That sounds like the best plan."
"Deal," I tell him, taking the socks he holds out to me with a smile.
We order take out just like he says we should and chill out on the couch for hours watching our favorite gorecore movies. I love that he laughs at all the same parts as me instead of looking at me like I'm crazy. At one point I'm laughing, and he casually leans over to press his lips against mine in a quick kiss. I don't know what prompts the kiss, but I'm definitely not turning it down at all.
It's a quick one that only lasts for a few seconds, but I feel like it means more than any long kiss ever could have. Cuddling up next to him, one second I'm awake and thinking how lucky I am, and the next I'm dead asleep.