Chapter 20 #2
Her hand trails down from my collar and along my open shirt.
I can’t help but wish she were touching my chest instead.
I glide my hands from her shoulders to rest on either side of her waist. This is a bad idea.
Yet with Cassie standing so close, energy buzzing beneath her skin and a spark of excitement in her eyes, I can’t quite remember why kissing her would be a mistake.
“We shouldn’t.” At her raised brow, I add, “I’m your boss.” Yes, that’s definitely one of the reasons I should take a big step back and pretend whatever moment we’re having never happened. Any second now.
“Don’t overthink it. You’re riding high on the reopening’s success. I’m wired after performing. We can enjoy the moment together. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.”
It’s a tempting offer. More than tempting.
Sensing my hesitation, she drops her hands. “Unless you don’t want—”
Reflexively, I tighten my grip on her narrow waist to keep her close. “I do.”
Her amused giggle over my eager reply cuts through the tension in the room. “Alright then. Now’s when you kiss me, Boss Man.”
Despite her words, Cassie doesn’t wait for me to make the first move, rising onto her tiptoes and reaching up to pull me towards her. Our lips are a hairsbreadth apart when the office door swings open.
“Girl, you were amazi—” Mei’s brown eyes widen and Cassie and I spring apart. “Sorry! I didn’t, um… I’m gonna go.” She backs up, bumping into the doorframe before turning and darting away.
Her interruption was the shock my system needed to bring my brain back online.
What was I thinking? Clearing my throat, I straighten my overshirt even though it’s not really in disarray—I simply need to give my hands something to do other than reaching for Cassie again. “I should get back to it as well.”
Cassie’s expression goes carefully blank, all the excitement she felt following her time on stage snuffed out from one blink to the next.
A sinking feeling in my core has me feeling like I’ve fucked up and I scramble to make it better.
“You really were great up there. Make sure you grab some water or whatever before your next set,” I add, not wanting her to think I’ve reverted to the grumpy arsehole of our early encounters.
Just because kissing her would be a mistake doesn’t mean I don’t want us to be on good terms.
“Sure.” Her polite smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Guilt nags at my conscience, but I think saying anything else will only make things worse. “OK. I’ll see you afterwards. Have fun up there.” I leave the office before I can put my size tens any further into my mouth.
Have fun up there? Damn, I know it’s been a while, but I didn’t realise I’m so out of practice I can’t navigate an almost-kiss with any semblance of tact.
Taking another deep breath before heading back into the bustling bar, I square my shoulders and hold my head high.
It’s fine. Nothing happened, and it’s for the best.
Cassie and I can go back to treating each other with the wary respect one might show a wild animal.
Maybe we’ll even become friends and laugh about this later.
Fine, the laughter part is probably pushing it, but after last night, I really do think we could be friends.
God knows it seems like she could do with someone in her corner.
Pushing back a few strands of hair that have fallen forward, I pull myself together. What’s done is done, and I have a bar to run.
* * *
Cassie
Going from performing then getting right back to waiting tables was jarring and yet oddly comforting at the same time.
My second set lasted an hour, bringing us to midnight.
I stashed my guitar in Austin’s office, refusing to let myself dwell on what almost happened in there before Mei walked in.
Then I downed a glass of water behind the bar, and I’ve been serving drinks and clearing tables for the past hour.
The kitchen closed at the same time I finished my set, but the kitchen team stayed behind to celebrate the success of the new and improved Bowman’s first official night.
Austin locks the front door behind the final stragglers just after one.
He’s normally stricter about closing time, but it seems everyone who came tonight wanted to tell him what a good job he’s done.
To my surprise, a lot of those people also told me how much they enjoyed my performance, most even going as far as saying they hoped I’d play at Bowman’s again.
Despite how much I enjoyed my time on stage tonight, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.
Just because I got away with it doesn’t mean performing wasn’t a massive risk.
The smart thing to do now is to keep my head down.
Between the stage lights and running around fulfilling orders, I ended up warm enough that I needed to throw my hair up into a high ponytail that’s now pulling at my scalp. I can’t wait to get back to the B&B so I can shower and let my hair down, both figuratively and literally.
It doesn’t take long for us to have the bar looking spotless.
The glasses have gone through the dishwasher and returned to their crates.
Chairs are stacked atop the tables, and the wooden floor has been swept then mopped.
I’m just stepping back inside after throwing away the rubbish out the back, more than ready to grab my stuff from the staff room and go, when Mei appears at my side.
“What do you want to drink?”
“What?”
“We’re all staying for a drink to celebrate, and the kitchen team surprised us with snacks.” She waves a hand towards the tables closest to the kitchen that two of said kitchen team are pushing together.
“Oh, that’s… actually really nice.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. The boss likes to reward everyone with an after-shift drink and food when we work a holiday—I figured he’d do something like this tonight.
” She eagerly eyes the food the kitchen team is setting out.
“Usually the food’s pizza though. This looks even better.
Come on.” She grabs my hand, dragging me over to sit with everyone else.
“Cassie, what do you want?” Molly calls out from behind the bar, looking annoyed that she had to ask.
Panic over having to order something when I wasn’t expecting it seizes my chest and my eyes dart from side to side like the answer will appear in thin air.
I can’t have alcohol. It doesn’t mix well with my tablets—I tried once and ended up a complete wreck after half a mojito.
Besides, even if I could drink, I’m so tired I’d probably nod off at the table if I did, or do something stupid, like try to kiss my boss.
Oh wait, I already did that stone-cold sober.
Fizzy drinks are out. Even without my mother’s voice reminding me I don’t need the calories, I don’t like having so much sugar late at night.
If I thought it wouldn’t earn me funny looks, I’d stick to the tap water I’ve been drinking all evening, but I’m painfully aware that wouldn’t be socially acceptable when everyone else is celebrating.
Maybe juice? Still full of sugar, but at least it’s better for me.
Molly sighs impatiently. God, why is this so difficult?
I know I’m tired and tonight’s been emotional but choosing a drink shouldn’t make me want to cry.
It’s pathetic. When I left Nashville, I thought getting to choose everything for myself would feel good, but after so long of having everything around me so tightly controlled, making all the decisions everyone else does daily without thinking has been surprisingly exhausting.
When I’ve been out exploring the town, I’ve had time to prepare myself mentally beforehand, knowing I’ll need to choose where to go and when, and what to have for dinner.
I’ve even reached the point where it’s become fun.
However, I’ve still got a long way to go, and being ambushed by a request for my drink order is not fun.