Chapter 5
Emmett
E
ver since this girl moved in, I haven’t gotten any sleep.
I need to give her a piece of my mind.
Again.
And maybe this time, I’ll give her the piece that has been thinking about her a little too much.
I rub my eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness around me. I could go back to sleep, see if I can get another hour or so. Or, I could make my way to the bar early.
I wasn’t planning on heading in until 9 or so, but maybe I can catch the delivery guys before they pull in. They come on Fridays, and I don’t need them destroying the back room I just spent all week organizing. They always just dump the shit and leave, and it pisses me off.
I roll out of bed, deciding to go with the latter, knowing that Drew will probably wake me up just when I fall back asleep anyway. I’m greeted by the alarmingly cold air around me as I stand. I forgot to close my window last night, and I slithered out of my clothes before passing out, a little too tipsy than I’d like to admit for a Thursday night.
I usually don’t drink at work, but the regulars that came out to my bar last night were feeling the stress that the holidays bring on, and I could tell they wanted a good time. Plus, the holidays always make me feel like I could use an extra drink, so I couldn’t say no to the one shot… Or the other four. It also didn’t help that I got a text asking to meet up with someone I’d much rather never see again.
All the skin uncovered by my boxers feels like it’s freezing over as I find the hoodie I threw off last night on the ground and pull it over my head.
I pull on a pair of sweatpants from my dresser before shutting the window and heading to the bathroom.
I go to grab my toothbrush when my shoulders jolt at the sound of a series of loud bangs just above me.
What the hell is she doing up there?
I truly do not understand how someone as small as her can be so loud.
Why is she up this early anyway?
I think she’s a teacher or something, but I don’t think schools start this early. Not quite sure why she gets up at the butt crack of dawn and doesn’t get home until the early evening, sometimes even later.
She is always alone too. It’s never any voices I hear up there. Usually just one pair of footsteps, maybe two every once in a while, her dropping shit, and her music, which I can’t complain too much about because it’s the same type of music I listen to.
I remember around the time she first moved in about six months ago, I saw her at the elevator and gave her a hard time for listening to her music so loud. It was the morning after I helped Riley move out, and Drew caught me at a bad time. I told her how the last thing I wanted to listen to after a long day of bullshit was the Blink-182 album without Tom Delonge.
I don’t think she really liked me commenting on her music taste, or anything else for that matter, because she glared at me with those captivating eyes, green with a ring of gold bursting outwards, I had to look away before I lost myself in them.
Bothered and unamused, she went to say something but then turned as red as her hair and stomped off, saved by the elevator opening to the garage floor we were both heading to, not having a response for me. I was left feeling like these little interactions of ours were going to be fun.
I feel the corner of my lips pull upwards, then roll my eyes at myself for even giving my upstairs neighbor with lead feet and butter fingers a second thought.
I haven’t been getting much sleep these days. I’m still getting used to sleeping alone, even though I don’t miss the person who’s no longer there, and Drew always seems to catch me in those moments where I’m quick to anger, not caring if the edge in my tone is offensive or not when I let her know what she did to bug me. It helps me blow off steam, even if she probably thinks I’m a total dick. I could probably be nicer to her about how much noise she makes—she may even try to be more considerate of the noise she is making if I was more polite—but I just don’t have the patience.
Plus, I like the reaction I pull out of her.
I glob some toothpaste onto the bristles of my toothbrush, run it under water, and start brushing my teeth, washing away the residual taste of whiskey from last night.
As I stare at the reflection of my dingy black hoodie in the reflection in front of me, the minty taste of my toothpaste making me feel more awake, I hear the shower turn on above me. I leave the bathroom before thoughts of what she’s doing just above me invade my brain without my permission.
I head into the kitchen, still brushing my teeth, and check the fridge to see if I can scavenge something for breakfast this morning, or if I have to stop at the gas station on the corner before I walk over to the bar.
I love making meals—especially breakfast—but it’s not as much fun making food for one, so I haven’t been keeping my kitchen as stocked as I used to.
Just as I suspected, there’s nothing but an energy drink I bought yesterday but was too busy to drink at work, a few beers, and leftover pizza from a few nights ago,
I’ll have to go to the store tonight.
I spit out the foam of toothpaste into the kitchen sink and dip my head under the running water to rinse out my mouth as I hear a muffled thud coming from the ceiling above my bathroom.
Leave it to Drew to let the soap bottles slip out of her hands.
Without warning, the thought of her, naked, in the shower pops into my head. I can see the water droplets dripping down her legs, her cheeks flushed from the stream, her red hair damp, sticking to her glistening body. I blink the thoughts away, not wanting to unpack where they’re coming from.
I haven’t really thought of any girl since Riley and I broke things off a few months ago. Besides my upstairs neighbor who I know I don’t have any business thinking of that way. I shake my head at myself, making my way back to my bedroom to get dressed for the day.
The apartment has felt a little empty since my ex-fiancé left, but I barely spend time here these days that doesn’t consist of sleeping, watching TV, or playing video games. I don’t really give myself too much time to think about it.
Riley and I were together for a few years and got engaged a few months before we decided to break things off. I met her after I graduated college eight years ago, a friend of a friend. We hit it off when we met at a wedding, seated at the same table, both not bringing a plus one.
The sting of her leaving isn’t as strong anymore, and I’ve been through worse… Much worse. But, I try not to think about it more than I have to. Riley wasn’t too fond of the idea of being married to a bartender, and I had no intention of finding a new career. We both could have compromised, but the fact that neither one of us wanted to spoke volumes. That’s why it pisses me off so much that she had the audacity to text me last night asking if we could talk.
I throw on a black Metallica t-shirt and some black jeans before heading back in the bathroom to deal with my hair. Riley always hated it long, but since she’s not here to complain about it, I’ve let it grow out just under my shoulders. The dark curls can get unruly, but nothing that a topknot can’t fix.
I grab my hair and twist it around my finger, making a bun. I loosely secure it, knowing strands will break free throughout the day and wash my face. As I spray on some cologne, I check the time, and see it’s only about 6:25. I head back to my bedroom to grab my phone from the charger and lay back down. I spend the next 20 minutes mindlessly scrolling through Reddit not wanting to leave just yet but not wanting to fall back asleep either.
At about 6:50, I decide that I should probably head to the bar because the delivery guys get there at about 7:15.
I spend a few minutes typing down some things I want to pick up from the store after work in my Notes app then slide my phone into my back pocket. As I go to grab my keys, my whole body jumps as I hear a huge crash above me, followed by a scream.
Damn. This girl can’t keep quiet to save her life.