Chapter 8 #2
The bar’s mood lifts with the volume of the music, and Joey taps his foot, humming along to every song that plays.
This place has reignited my love of music.
My fathers always worked hard to build collections, losing them every time we moved, but they introduced me to so much: the eighties, country, folk, Brit rock, ballads…
They encouraged my eclectic taste, while Joey, the human jukebox, has only added fuel to the fire.
Sasha says her goodbyes before leaving, and I’m hoping she’ll still be awake when I get back, so I can hear all about it.
The bar is lively while the merrier customers sing along, and Joey joins in while serving with a dance in his step.
He’s like my personal entertainment system, and I love nothing more than watching him enjoy himself, and the smiles he sparks on people’s faces.
I grab beers from the fridge when the first few opening notes of a song send our eyes shooting towards each other with slanted smirks.
The music channels play the same songs regularly, and by now, we know each other’s favourites, so with the voice of Billy Ocean singing “Red Light Spells Danger,” he sings along—but something about the song strikes differently.
The lyrics are tickling a part of my brain, which makes them stand out among the melody.
My dancing turns to a wavering stillness.
Time slows with a daunting divulgence as Billy Ocean’s warning words play over Joey, and he points and sings towards a customer.
Earlier, when he didn’t show, I wasn’t worried about him leaving, because I knew I would eventually go.
But this is something new—something that has snuck up on me.
I’ve caught feelings for him.
Something stronger than friendship, a startling longing for him to be a part of my life, and it drops my heart cold with the same threat of looking down the barrel of a gun.
I don’t want to imagine my world without him.
How can he be part of it though? I can’t date him.
I can’t even kiss him. I’m on a track that doesn’t involve him being by my side.
The dread runs from my chest and sprawls through my veins like ice, stiffening my body and stealing my breath. I need to bury this.
My fingers run into my hair as I lift it away to relieve dampness along the back of my neck. Joey’s still singing his heart out, turning to me, probably expecting me to join in, but I can’t even fake it. I stammer before him, trying to lasso my thoughts while they dart away from me.
His grin softens, and his dancing slows.
“You okay?” he mouths while fetching some bottles from the fridge beside me.
His brows are furrowed, bewildered by my stillness.
Like a sinking stone in water, I drift further from the surface of reality as my mind pulls me from the moment.
I try to force a smile—notably fragile. I try to reset myself, but like a malfunctioning machine, I can’t process the problem. I need to bury this.
There’s a swell of his bicep as he wipes the counter with a dishtowel, and how he snaps it taut before flinging it onto his shoulder jellies my joints.
When he reaches for a bottle of scotch, he grips it between his fingers, twisting it like a twirling baton before holding it upside down while talking to Otto with undeterred concentration.
He always effortlessly performs with flair while bartending, but it’s making me think about what else he can do with such dexterity.
There’s a rush of teasing thoughts as I imagine leading him into the back room and bashing the cameras into dysfunction.
I wish for his fingers to graze my face and comb into my hair as he kisses me.
I want his body to press against mine as I pull up his shirt and discover all the tattoos he’s only told me about.
I need to see if he can lift me as easily as he can a beer keg—to press me against a wall while I cradle his head, only breaking from his strawberry bubblegum kisses to gasp for air.
I blink repetitively to anchor me to reality. My teeth clamp my inner cheek to stop my jaw from hanging open. He saunters to his spot, so close that his arm grazes mine, rippling a wave of goose bumps across my skin. I rub my arm to clear them in a panic, as if dusting cobwebs away.
He looks at me, leaning in. “What’s wrong?” The warmth of his breath brushes my neck as he speaks beside the shell of my ear.
“Nothing!” I say, shaking my head to soothe the shiver he sends over me. It’s almost torturous, and he’s oblivious as he heightens each of my senses.
He shrugs, turning to watch a pair of customers dancing.
While he’s preoccupied, I can’t help but study his face, as if seeing him for the first time through a different lens.
The faint freckles across his nose. Some remaining smudges of oil within his five o’clock shadow.
How he tucks his long hair behind his ears.
The motion sends my head tilting, a softening of my neck as I imagine tucking his hair behind his ear.
He catches me looking, and I want to look away, fearful that it’s written all over my face.
I don’t. I can’t. I’m entranced with how the light catches his brown eyes, causing a soft glow as if they’re illuminated from within, and I force myself to look away.
He says while looking out at the bar, “Oli’s had too much to drink again.”
My eyes are closed while I try to right myself. I don’t care enough to look, so I hum in agreement. When I open my eyes, I look towards my idle hands at my sides. I’ve got to get through this shift, get in my bed, and sleep it off. By the morning, I will have forgotten it all. I’ll bury this.
I want to bury it, but his hands are down by his sides, hooking his thumbs into his jeans pockets.
They’re waiting for me like a calling card.
Those voices in my head say, “Don’t. Don’t do it.
” All three of them tell me, “No, Everlee, that’s a bad idea.
” My fathers warned me about this. Not to get attached.
But with my pinky finger, I reach over and lightly hook it around his. My heart races as I await his reaction.
His relaxed posture turns stiff, and he offers a dumbstruck glance. I look back apologetically, hoping he won’t be upset, but the regret uncurls my finger.
His stare softens as his lips curl, and he relaxes his stance, cupping his little finger tightly around mine, sending a euphoric thud through my chest.
And there we stand, side by side. Together.