10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
F ive hours later and I’d actually accomplished something. I couldn’t quite put it into words, but every time my fingers hit that keyboard, I felt a little less lost and a little closer to Liv.
The clock on my computer signaled it was time for me to get ready for work. I stood and trudged my way to my bed, the light-wash ripped jeans from this morning sprawled across it. Pulling up the denim, I wiggled the material over my ass and buttoned them before stepping toward my closet.
Usually, Dad preferred the staff to wear a Wharf-branded T-shirt, but all bets were off during the holiday weekends. It was practically a crime not to show up in patriotic attire, so I pulled a shirt off the hanger and slid into it. The white peplum top had puffy sleeves and tied together in the front with three dainty bows. I took in my put-together reflection in the mirror and watched a grin tug at my lips.
It wasn’t that I had any expectations of impressing anyone—I basically saw the same faces every shift—but a tiny part of me was daydreaming about the mysterious man I’d seen earlier.
Our town kept the same company throughout the year, except during the summertime. Because for those few months, we were honored to share the same air as all the rich boys and girls who spent their days floating on big boats and their nights drinking at lavish parties that most of us townies were invited to. Despite the inconvenience of them overrunning our quaint little town, I never minded the eye candy that came with it.
As my curling iron heated up, “Heat Waves” by Glass Animals serenaded me. I was going to be early, but I was sure Dad wouldn’t mind. I curled my hair, dabbed on some red lipstick, slipped into my white Converse, and glanced in the mirror one last time before feeling satisfied enough to switch off the lights.
Wallet, check. Keys, check. Phone, check.
I was out the door and down the stairs before I realized the copious amount of noise coming from the street. Twinkling lights were strung across the buildings, casting a sparkle across the road, and a wave of excitement danced through me as the sounds of laughter echoed around me.
Even though I knew I would regret saying this, because it didn’t take long for the transplants to become a nuisance, I loved this time of year so much. And maybe, just maybe, this summer was going to be different.
As I strode across the sidewalk, my hair blew in the ocean breeze. I could already tell The Wharf was busier than usual. The gravel parking lot was busting at the seams, and the music was more than a couple notches louder than normal. As I swung the door open, I was shocked at the number of bodies that lined the bar. I immediately made eye contact with Sam, the other resident bartender and my friend, and the desperation splashed on her face signaled she needed help.
Dashing behind the bar, I shouted, “Holy shit, how long has it been this busy?”
“Not too long. The fireworks at the marina just ended and I think everyone made their way over here to continue the party!” she yelled, throwing a towel over her shoulder.
Samantha Murry was a few years older than me in school and, like me, had lived here her whole life. She was your typical badass bartender. Her fiery red hair fell down her back and she almost always opted for black outfits, specifically black outfits with leather. Both of her arms were covered in tattoos, all of which she designed herself.
Sam was one of the first people I let in after the accident. It had taken a lot of time, a lot of therapy, and some serious persistence on her end, but with each shift we worked side by side, I found myself slowly letting her in. The irrational fear of losing her lingered in the back of my mind, but before her, it was just me, and that got really lonely.
“It’s buzzing in here. Dad has to be thrilled,” I said. “Speaking of, where is he?”
“I’m not sure. Your parents have been running around like crazy since lunch. I’ve never seen a crowd like this.” She grabbed a bottle of vodka from behind me. “All I have to say is thank god you’re here.”
“You should have called me! I would’ve come earlier. I told Dad I was free all afternoon and happy to help.”
“Yes…” Her words hung in the air. “But you also told him you were writing, and that man would let this place go up in flames before he interrupted your writing time. And honestly, I feel the same,” she said, her sarcasm giving way to a big smile.
“One day all that generosity will pay off,” I joked.
“It better. And when it does, don’t forget about lil’ ol’ me.”
“I would never.”
“Also, just so we’re on the same page, there was nothing here I couldn’t handle.” She winked.
“Of course not. I never doubted you for a second,” I said, playfully slapping her arm. “All right, now tell me where you need me!”
“End of the bar,” she said, motioning to a group of guys in sport jackets. Clearly not regulars. “Those guys have been waiting for a while, and they’ve been surprisingly patient.”
“On it.” I strode over, snatching a few napkins and placing them in front of the group. “Hey, what can I get you all?” I looked up and almost choked on my words.
Those eyes.
The iridescent honey color reflected off the low lighting in the bar and made it almost impossible to take my next breath. I blinked, attempting to refocus.
He cocked his head to the side as he lifted his left hand, grazing his top lip with his pointer finger. “You again.” His voice was deep and smooth as velvet.
“Me again.”
“At least this time you can’t run away.” He grinned.
“At least this time you can’t run me over,” I said, tapping my finger on the bar.
“Hey now, let’s not forget I saved you too. Why is it always harder to remember the good parts?”
He dropped his hand, revealing an alluring expression. His camel sport jacket and casual white T-shirt complemented his tanned skin and the little bit of scruff bordering his jawline.
I was doing everything I could to normalize the rhythm of my heartbeat, but damn, he was making it hard. This man carried himself in a way that made him instantly five times more attractive than any other man in this bar.
“It’s Grey. Grey Prescott.”
Grey.
My god. Even the name suited him.
“Okay, Grey, what can I get you?”
“Your name,” he smoothly responded.
“Ha! Good try,” I mocked. “If you don’t tell me what you want, I’m serving the next person.”
“Just as feisty as I remember. My favorite.”
“Do you see this bar?” I lifted my hands and looked around to emphasize my comment. “It’s packed, and my dad wouldn’t be very happy if he knew I was standing here wasting my time when I could be making him money…” The confidence in my tone surprised me.
“So now you think I’m wasting your time, huh?”
“You really know how to push a girl’s button, don’t you?”
Flustered and not wanting to give him a chance to respond, I moved toward the guy next to him, clearly a part of his group based on his overdressed appearance. “Hey, what can I get you to drink?”
He was quick to respond. “I’ll take six Sex on the Beach shots.”
I glanced down at my inventory, scanning the bottles before landing on the peach schnapps. “Sex on the Beach. My favorite ,” I said, shooting a cheeky look in Grey’s direction.
“What a coincidence. Me too,” the guy said, chuckling at my comment.
Grey’s friend wasn’t my type with his blond hair and blue eyes, but that wasn’t the point. I could feel his intrusive copper eyes watching my every move, and while I hated to admit it, I loved knowing he was looking.
“Six Sex on the Beach shots coming right up.”
While I poured the vodka, cranberry juice, orange juice, and peach schnapps, I did my best to avert my eyes in every direction except Grey’s, but I failed.
Twice.
The first time I snuck a glance, his back was turned as he chatted with his friends. But I got greedy and as I threw the cocktail shaker above my head, using both hands to mix together the contents inside, I was drawn back in his direction, and this time, I wasn’t so lucky. He was staring right at me. Our eyes locked and my stomach immediately dropped. I felt anxious, excited, and like I might throw up at any moment from the rush of his gaze.
His jaw tensed.
Pulling my stare away, I poured the shots. “Here you go,” I said, smiling as I slid the tab toward the blond-haired friend.
“I got it, Will,” a voice boomed as Grey casually grabbed the flimsy bill before I could let go.
Our hands met, and sparks of energy infiltrated my belly. Our hands lingered, his on top of mine.
I couldn’t put my finger on it, it sounded silly even thinking it, but there was something there. Something between us that made it feel like we hadn’t just met for the first time only a couple of hours ago.
“Thanks, man,” Will said, snapping me back to reality as I stole my hand back.
“Anytime.”
As I tried to focus on anyone but this man, I fidgeted with the glasses that sat underneath the bar before moving to another customer.
“Hey, Steven! Let me guess. A Bud Light and a shot of Jameson?” I smiled. Steven was one of Dad’s friends and at the bar almost every night.
“You got it,” he shot back.
Grabbing the Bud Light, I desperately tried to eavesdrop on the conversation happening at the end of the bar.
“Grey, I can’t believe you’re finally back. What’s it been? Like ten years?” One of the guy’s voices projected over the music as he slapped him on the back.
Grey’s voice was lower than his friend’s as he responded, “Almost eleven.”
“Damn, man. Well, we’re glad to have you this summer. Let’s make it a good one,” his friend said before I heard a large clunk.
A handful of “Cheers!” followed as the group of six dudes clinked their glasses together. I snuck a glance as they all threw back their shots, all of them except Grey. Instead, he placed his shot glass on the bar, his eyes catching mine yet again.
Adrenaline raced through my body, but I snapped my head away and made my way toward the center of the bar where Sam stood.
“We haven’t had a Memorial Day weekend like this one in a long time.” Her voice was loud as she tried her best to be heard over the thumping of the music.
“I know, this is insane,” I responded. “I haven’t seen Mom or Dad since I got here.”
“They’re around, but it’s hard to see anyone else when your attention is focused on one person.”
I whipped my head in her direction, and the shit-eating grin plastered on her face gave her away.
“I was simply helping a customer,” I said nonchalantly.
“Uh huh. If only all our customers could look like him, right?” she asked, motioning in his direction.
I wanted to look, but out of my periphery, I spotted his outline moving toward us. I spun in the other direction, hoping Sam would help me out with this one.
“Oh no, this one’s all you.” She giggled.
And just like that, I found myself again staring at Grey Prescott, all six feet of him.
“So, what are the chances I can get a rum and ginger now that you’re done trying to prove a point?”
“That’s dramatic. But yes, I’d be happy to help. Light or dark rum?”
“Is that even a question?”
“Well, yes. That’s why I asked it.”
“Dark.” His voice matched the word that left his mouth. “Spiced, to be exact.”
“We’ve got Sailor Jerry’s,” I stated.
“Even better,” he said, emphasizing each word.
Throwing together his drink, I put in a little extra effort than normal, simply because I could.
“Here you go, Grey. And for future reference, a rum and ginger with spiced rum is also known as a Dark & Stormy,” I stated, matter of fact.
“Is that so, Miss…?”
“Ms. Morgan,” I answered. “MJ, actually.”
Shit.
He was good. Pulling my name out of me without even trying.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Morgan.” He grabbed his drink, and then just before he turned toward his group of friends, he winked as he said, “I mean, MJ.”
The letters eagerly rolled off his tongue and he casually licked his lips.
Once his back shifted to me, I released a heavy sigh and my entire body relaxed against the bar.
“Since when did you start giving summer fuckboys the time of day?” Sam’s voice startled me.
Since they showed up looking like Grey Prescott , I thought, but decided to keep that to myself and instead chuckled at her comment.
“I haven’t. I was just hoping for a big tip. You know those out-of-towners give the best tips.”
She pursed her lips. “I’m sure they do.”
“Stop! I didn’t mean it like that,” I giggled, tossing my bar towel in her direction. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Probably,” she said. “Speaking of ridiculous and summer boys, the one I’ve been talking to invited me to a holiday kickoff party tomorrow and I’m absolutely not showing up alone, so I’ll pick you up at nine? And before you say no, remember just a couple days ago when you told me you wanted to have a fun summer?”
With my arms crossed in front of my chest, I exhaled in her direction.
“In fact, I believe you even said you wanted to let loose and live a little… So, here I am, being a good friend and presenting you with an opportunity,” she said, emphasizing her comment by using her hands to push an imaginary platter toward me.
Shaking my head back and forth, I said, “I knew I shouldn’t have said that out loud. I had a feeling you’d keep that in your back pocket until you needed some leverage. I just didn’t expect you to use it so soon.”
“Nine, it is.” Her grin took over her entire face.
“Please tell me this isn’t the same guy from last summer…”
“This isn’t the same guy from last summer…” she repeated.
“Sam!” I shouted.
“I’m sorry, MJ. I can’t help it. I love a little summer fling, and it’s helpful when you don’t have to find a new one every summer,” she chirped. “Looks like you might have one of your own this year.”
“Ha,” I huffed. “I’m going to go with no, but thanks for the thought.”
Although, thinking about even the slightest fling with Grey sent my mind spiraling.
“Why not?” she asked, and her serious tone made me do a double-take.
“What do you mean why not?”
My hand rested on my hip as I leaned against the bar.
“I mean… why not? Why can’t you have a summer fling? Were you not standing right here during our previous conversation?” She cocked her head to the side. “Want my advice?”
“I have a good feeling I know where this is headed, but shoot.”
“Go with the flow this summer. Let yourself have a good time. Hell, you might even start to enjoy yourself,” she said, poking fun at me.
Her words echoed through my ears. Maybe a summer fling wouldn’t be the worst thing? Especially if said fling resembled a tall, dark, and handsome Grey Prescott.
“Hey, girls.” My dad’s voice caught me completely off guard and immediately made me feel weird as I was daydreaming about summer hookups.
“Hey, Dad! This crowd is wild.”
“I know. I’m grateful, but I definitely wasn’t prepared. Glad you’re here! Although, Sam did a great job holding down the fort.”
“Thanks. It got a little dicey, but I survived. Happy to have some good back up,” Sam responded as she gently bumped her hip into mine.
“No worries, I’m happy to help,” I said.
“She sure is.”
I shot a glance in her direction. If only looks could kill.
“I think the crowd might finally be dying down. I’m planning to close the bar at eleven. Let me know if either of you needs anything,” Dad told us.
“Sounds good,” we said in sync. “Love you big!” I shouted after him.
“Love you bigger,” he said as he made his way through the crowd.
By the time I got home it was past midnight. I took my makeup off, put on my pajamas, and crawled into bed, completely exhausted. Rather than pass out like my body demanded though, my brain wouldn’t quit.
Tonight, my thoughts were different than normal. Tonight, while I replayed my shift, my memory kept landing on him.
Grey Prescott.
We didn’t have any other communication, but I’d quietly kept my eye on him for the rest of the night until he and his drunk friends left.
I kept racking my brain for something to explain my infatuation. I’d seen boys like him before. The well-dressed, flirty type who thought could get any girl they wanted based on the thickness of their wallet.
But he was different. He intrigued me.
“Liv, you would’ve simply died. This boy was everything you and I imagined a boy from the city would be, and for some reason he showed interest in me, or at least I think he did.” I sighed, daydreaming about what it would be like if she were here to chat with. “I miss you every single day. I thought it would get easier, and in a sense, it has, but it’s nights like these I feel like a giddy teenager, wishing I had my best friend to talk to, that I miss you the most.”
I realized I’d been talking out loud, which I only found myself doing when I was desperately craving a conversation with her. When I was alone in the peace and quiet, I talked aloud to her simply because I knew she was listening.
“I miss you further than the moon, Liv. And I love you deeper than the ocean.”
And with that, my brain finally shut down.