36. Dante
CHAPTER 36
Dante
I pulled into the parking lot in front of Tapped and killed the engine. It was good to be home. The stress of not knowing what was going on with Meemaw had clawed at me all week. I’d made sure she was settled in and arranged for her friends to check in on her several times a day for the next few weeks.
What was I going to do if an offer from a division out east finally came? If I landed one of those jobs, it would mean up to ninety percent travel. I could never put her in a home. Not only would she flat out refuse to go, it would squash her spirit. I sighed and raked my hands through my hair, wishing I had someone to talk to about my problems.
As I climbed the steps to my apartment, I thought about Faith. I’d found myself thinking about her a lot over break. Too much, in fact. She’d gotten under my skin, burrowed in like some fucking wood tick or something.
If I wasn’t careful, she’d suck the life force right out of me. I needed to focus on my job and my mentorship to secure that damn letter of recommendation. A transfer out east to a bigger division and a higher-paying job would guarantee my and Meemaw’s future. I’d just have to figure out a way to convince Meemaw to come with me if the job panned out, and I damn well wasn’t going to let my fuck buddy get in the way of that.
That wasn’t fair. She’d made it perfectly clear she didn’t want anything to do with me besides the free use of my body. It was my problem I was starting to let her get to me. Should I pull the plug on our arrangement before it even really began?
I opened the door to my apartment and flipped on the lights. The cushions on the couch sat askew. I hadn’t fixed them after that night we’d reinstated her crazy sex-only plan. I dropped my bag on the floor and set my keys on the counter, then slid my coat off and walked over to the couch. Grabbing a cushion from the floor, I held it up to my face. The faint scent of her shampoo teased my nose, and I took a deep inhale.
I was turning into Wyatt. Grunting, I tossed the cushion back onto the couch and exited my apartment.
Less than a minute later, I’d claimed a stool at the bar and watched as Oliver attempted to switch out a keg under the counter.
“Need some help with that?” I asked.
“Nah, bro. The fuckin’ hose is just givin’ me a bit of trouble. She’ll be right in no time.”
I smiled and shook my head. Hiring Oliver might prove to be a mistake; even after a few weeks, I could barely understand him. The girls seemed to like him, though. And Wyatt was a big fan of anything that brought more girls into the bar. More girls meant more guys, and more guys meant we’d sell more beer.
Oliver wiped his hands on his jeans and grabbed a pint glass. “So, what’ll it be, mate?”
“How about a Honeyweiss?” Damn, that’s what Faith always ordered.
“Right. Sweet-as.”
“Sweet as what?” I asked.
“Aw, nothing, just sweet-as. You know, like cool.”
“Whatever, dude.”
Oliver set the mug down on the bar in front of me, and I took a long sip. As I turned on my stool to see if I recognized anyone, a hand clapped me on the shoulder.
“Dante, my man.”
“Oh, hey, Murph.” I eyed Murph over the rim of my glasses, not sure whether I should brace myself for an uppercut to the jaw or a handshake. Murph offered his hand, so I shook it.
As he settled onto the stool next to me, he signaled to Oliver, who automatically pulled a pint of Bud. “Thanks, bro.”
“Have a nice break?” I asked.
Murph sipped the froth from the top of his glass. “Yeah, it was all right. How about you?”
“Fine. Glad to be back.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Faith.”
Damn, this again? “What do you need?”
Murph’s eyes bored into mine. “Is there something going on between you?”
“No, not really.” I sure as hell didn’t need Murph busting my balls. Whatever crush he had on Faith, she definitely didn’t seem interested in him, and the way he talked about her behind her back didn’t render him worthy of any bro code.
Murph shook his head and smiled. “You’re not fucking with me, are you? I was there when you tossed the bra at her.”
“That was an isolated event.” I shrugged. “You know me, I don’t tend to stick around.”
“Then you wouldn’t be interested in a little dirt about her, huh?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Murph slid a copy of the newspaper across the bar to me. “Page three.”
I took a swig of beer and flipped through the pages, my eyes scanning the headlines for whatever dumbass article Murph wanted me to see.
“Right there.” His finger jabbed at the paper.
The words swam across the page, and I adjusted my glasses. Something about a little family reunion on campus. How famous Christian author Claire Kepner got to speak to her daughter’s class. “What the hell?”
“Shit, bro. That’s Faith’s mom. Good thing you’re not tapping that, my friend. Can you imagine? What kind of d-bag would stick it to the daughter of America’s favorite Christian sweetheart? Her stepdad’s the pastor of some wicked big evangelical church out in California, too. You dodged a bullet with that one.”
I grabbed my beer and drained my glass. “Oliver, pour me another one?”
Murph swiveled around on his stool. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, though, right?” His eyes narrowed into slits.
“What’s your big hang-up with her, anyway?”
“Nothing. I’m over it and moving on. Met this chick right before break, and we’re hitting it off.”
“That’s great.” I gripped the fresh beer and pushed off the stool. “See you around.” Hopefully Murph would stop busting my balls about Faith now. But what the hell was with the article in the paper?
I made my way to the back office to check the schedule. I’d been hoping to start up where Faith and I left off as soon as her plane landed. But Wyatt probably had me working the late shift on New Year’s Eve. Maybe I could sneak over before my shift started.
Oliver found me sitting at Wyatt’s desk, beer in hand, shaking my head. “Are you pissed, mate?”
“Huh? No, I’m a little irked I’m scheduled for tomorrow night. It’s New Year’s Eve. But nah, I’m not pissed about it.”
Oliver smirked. “Not pissed off, like mad. I mean pissed, like drunk?”
“Oh. Hell no. I’m not drunk. But if I have to spend any more time around Murph, I might need a few more pints.”
“Yeah, he’s a stirrer, all right.” He mimed stirring a giant pot with a spoon. “Stirs up trouble?”
My mouth quirked into a smile. “Yeah, you’re right. He’s a stirrer for sure. Any chance you want to take my New Year’s Eve shift?”
“Wish I could help you out, but I’ve got plans already.”
I nodded, and Oliver disappeared around the corner. Shit. I’d hoped to have the night off so Faith and I could get together. I wanted to show her just how well I could handle her sex-only proposal, but now it looked like I might have to pull out. Maybe I needed to rethink our agreement, anyway. I sure as hell didn’t want to get caught corrupting a pastor’s daughter.
But thinking about shutting down our arrangement made my heart squeeze. We were adults. We knew what we were getting into. We could handle it. And why would Murph try to shove a wedge between us unless he still had a thing for Faith?
With a slurry of unanswered questions spinning around in my head, I got up. My hand wrapped around the cold pint of beer, and I made my way out front. Murph had better be gone, or I might just have to invite him outside. I was done listening to what Murph had to say. From here on out, any digs at Faith might be best handled with a fist to the mouth.