Chapter 11
ELEVEN
NATE
“Are you all right?” Murray asks, standing on the other side of the kitchen with his hands on his hips.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Because I told Paige we should just be friends.
“You’re just quiet. That’s abnormal for you,” he says.
Try introspective.
I don’t respond out loud, and instead, I focus on putting away the vegetables fresh from the delivery truck.
“You know, you’re always borderline irritable,” Murray says. “But I can usually figure out why based on what’s happening around here.”
Irritable? I’d go with frustrated.
“Yet you’ve managed to hold your fuse very well. I usually get you to explode by this point when I poke at ya.”
It’s all this brand-new self-restraint I found.
My mind switches easily—way too easily—to the subject of my irritation. My frustration. My fucking demise. A chill ripples slowly down my spine as a series of images, almost like a photograph, plays through my memories.
Paige’s cheeky grin. Her big, brown eyes that I now know turn almost golden when she’s turned on.
My balls tighten so hard I grimace.
The slight gasp when her finger slid into my mouth and the rush of breath when I released it.
Dammit.
I clench my teeth together and close the cooler door. Then I turn to him.
“Is that what you want?” I ask, looking him in the eye. “Do you want me to blow up on you? Because I can. I can take all this irritability you say I have and just spew it across this kitchen. You want to see that?”
Instead of taking the hint and backing down, Murray does the opposite. He flashes me the smile that gets him re-hired at least once a month.
It reminds me of Ryder, in a way. It’s the same sort of move he pulls on me when he knows I’m pissed. Apparently, I’m a sucker for it.
Lucky for Murray.
“Do I want you to blow up on me?” He points at himself. “No, man. I was trying to be a gentleman and extract information without actually putting you on the spot. Like prying with a spoon instead of a crowbar.”
I stare at him. “First, that’s a stupid analogy.”
“I thought it was brilliant, especially considering we’re in a kitchen.”
“Second,” I say, undeterred from my opinion. “Prying with a crowbar would be more effective and cause less damage than prying anything with a spoon.”
This satisfies him. He grins. “Okay. Crowbar it is. How’s it going living with Paige?”
His eyes meet mine with a steadiness that I think I taught him. When he first started here, he was a squirrelly little shit with no backbone and a big mouth. He’s still foolish and has a huge mouth, but he’s growing a backbone.
Next lesson—when to use it and when to back off.
“You better mind your business,” I say.
“You’re my boss, and she’s my co-worker. You’re like family to me, man.”
I roll my eyes.
“What kind of dude would I be if I didn’t care about Paige’s health and safety? Not one my mama would be proud of.”
“Murray? Shut up.”
I don’t know if I just didn’t consider everyone would find out it or if I didn’t care. Par for the course because I obviously didn’t think the entire premise of Paige staying with me out too much either.
Either way, I wasn’t ready for this to come up in conversation.
Blowing out a breath, I lean against the cooler. Murray faces me on the other side of the kitchen and waits. Bastard.
“Is she staying with you permanently? Like, are you guys now a thing—”
“No. It’s not like that. We’re friends. I’m just helping her out like I would you.”
“I hope to God you wouldn’t do things to me that I bet you’re doing to her late at night.”
“Murray,” I warn.
He chuckles. “So you’re friends. I’m supposed to believe that?”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you believe. It’s none of your business.”
“True. It’s not. But I will say that I’m glad you let her stay with you. I’m not surprised because that’s the kind of guy you are. And Paige, well, Paige is probably safer with you than any of the savages she usually entertains.”
I shove off the cooler and pick up a box of to-go condiments. “I didn’t know you cared so much when it came to Paige. As much hell as you give her, I thought you hated her.”
“Sometimes I do.” He picks up another box and follows me into the storeroom. “She’s just … I don’t know. When she’s here, you can’t get away from her. She has her hands in everything, and once she gets an idea in her head, you can’t tell the girl no.”
Don’t I know it.
My body aches from fighting that very thing—from fighting her. I’ve never experienced this before, this inability to satisfy an urge. Especially when the urge wants to satisfy me too.
It takes everything I have to remind myself repeatedly, hourly, that I made the right call.
I can’t give in and level up our relationship from a friendship to …
whatever it would be because it would be a disaster in the making.
The next person I see will be with the intention of making it forever.
That’s not Paige’s modus operandi. She told me as much.
Part of what she said stayed with me throughout another mostly sleepless night.
I’ve never seen anything that lasted forever. I don’t even have a baby picture of me. So why should I buy into the idea that anything can last forever?
And I also know that if I did try something with her, if—when—things ended, I’d lose our friendship. Because if I couldn’t have her at that point, there’s no way in hell I could watch some other dude have her. I’d have to exile her from my life.
That whole scenario pisses me off already.
Murray chuckles. “But you can’t really hate Paige.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean, she’s hot. She’s hilarious. She does a damn good job here even though I’d never tell her that.”
I look at him curiously.
“And she’s nice. I mean that.” He pulls his brows together, forming a bunch of wrinkles in his forehead.
“She’s super helpful, and she’d give you the shirt off her back.
There’s something I’d like to see,” he says, chuckling and nearly getting himself punched in the face by me.
“But she’s also solid. Like, old-school she’d go to jail for you if she loved you. You know?”
“Yeah.”
He grins. “You’re saying yeah a lot today.”
“Yeah—shut up.” I shake my head. “Put that box over there by the rice.”
I set the condiments on a shelf next to the cherry syrup.
“Shit. I forgot to make an order of onion rings. Be right back,” he says, jetting by me on the way to the kitchen.
What the hell? Murray can blab the hell on about Paige like he’s a fucking psychologist, but the man can’t remember to order onion rings?
I groan. I can’t keep doing this.
Why does it have to be so hard?
I take a deep, heavy breath and try to release some of the pressure building in my chest.
“Just hold yourself together,” I mutter, running a hand down my jaw. “She’ll be out of there before I know it.”
The thought creates a pang in the center of my chest. I shrug out of it as fast as I can.
Footsteps refocus my attention and I look up to see Murray stick his head in the doorway.
“Onion rings are done and so am I,” he says. “You need anything else from me before I leave?”
“I don’t know. Did you do the check-off list after your shift?”
“Yes, boss.”
I roll my eyes. “Did you bleach the sink?”
“Yes.”
“Did you restock everything?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Did you sweep the kitchen and see if the bar needs anything before you go?”
Murray sighs. “Yes. And Kira is already here to take over, so there’s two of us on the clock right now.”
“Then I guess you can head home.”
He steps into the doorway, stuffing one hand in his jeans. The bastard doesn’t even try to wipe the smile off his face. “And you’re heading home to Paige?”
“Question—do you want to get fired today or save it for later this week?”
His laughter is loud. I try hard not to find amusement in his reaction but fail.
“Get the hell outta here,” I say, walking toward him. I grab his shoulder and give it a good shake. “Thanks for helping me with the delivery.”
“No problem. See ya tomorrow, boss.”
“Later.”
He stops to clock out, and I head for the bar. I round the corner and see Joe sitting in his prized spot at the end. I say hello to a few regular customers as I make my way toward the old man.
His requisite ivy cap is propped on his head, white hair poking out from beneath it. He sees me coming and smiles a wide, toothless smile.
“Look who decided to work today,” he says, his voice much louder than necessary.
“Hey, Joe. What’s happening, man?” I rest my arms on the bar top across from him. “Did you get some coffee?”
“Yeah, and you’re still chargin’ me a quarter. Can you believe that? It’s a rip-off if I’ve ever seen one.”
He winks at me, the hollows of his cheeks sinking into his mouth.
“We gotta make money somewhere,” I tease. “I have a kid to pay for.”
“What have you been doing today? I heard you back there,” he says, motioning toward the kitchen. “But they said you were busy.”
“We had a big delivery come in today. And you know how it goes. If you don’t do it yourself—”
“It won’t get done right.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Don’t I know it. Back when I worked on the railroad, I was the only one gettin’ anything done around there. People these days are lazy. They don’t know how to put in a day’s work anymore.”
“Eh, I have a pretty good crew around here. I can’t complain too much.”
He shrugs. “They’re okay. I miss that dark-headed girl. Where’d she go?”
I close my eyes. Why is everyone wanting to talk about her today? And why doesn’t he realize that he was the one that was gone for over a month?
“You know, the sassy one. The one like this.” Joe outlines an hourglass in the air with his hands. “What happened to her?”
“He knows who you mean,” Kira says over my shoulder. She bumps my hip with hers. “Hi, Nate.”
“Hi, Kira.”
“Paige!” Joe smacks the bar top with his fist. “That’s her name. Paige.”
“She’s still here. She’s had a couple of days off. You were the one missing for over a month.”
Kira clears her throat. “Speaking of that, I’m supposed to be in the kitchen tonight, and Jaycee just called off for out here. Sick kid or grandparent or something. I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
If Paige is here and I’m at home, that would give me a bit of a respite.
“I’ll call Paige,” I say.
“Well, on that note, I’ll have another cup of coffee,” Joe says, smiling. “Gotta get my quarter’s worth.”
I sigh. “See you later, Joe.” I start toward my office. Once I get to Kira, I lower my voice. “Get him a sandwich, please.”
“Will do.”
I get to my office, close the door behind me, and sit at my desk. I swear I can still smell Paige’s perfume lingering in the air as I take out my phone.
Me: Any chance you can work the bar tonight?
Paige: Yes, of course. What time?
Me: Kira is by herself now, so whenever you can get here would be great. Should be dead until five thirty or six anyway.
Paige: Let me change, and I’ll be there.
I bite my knuckle so hard I almost yelp.
Me: I’m heading to Mrs. Kim’s to pick up Ryder then going home. We’ll probably cross paths.
Paige: Just remember I might be home after curfew. But don’t worry. You won’t see me naked.
Fucking hell, Paige.
But before I can respond, she fires off another message.
Paige: Phone is dying. Tell Kira I’ll be there soon. *waving emoji*
Damn this girl.