Oakley
Twenty-Nine
Ican’t help the disappointment at Levi’s clear dismissal of me.
This hot-and-cold, back-and-forth is exhausting, and I don’t know if it’s my overall frustration at my seemingly unreturned interest, or the fact that Layla has been hovering by their booth ever since I walked away, that has me in a shit mood.
One minute, he’s giving me bedroom eyes from across the room, and the next, he’s acting like he doesn’t even know me.
Something’s got to give, and I hate that it’s going to be me bringing it up to him.
I can’t keep living like this, in this constant state of limbo, where it feels like I’m the pathetic nerd drooling over the star football player.
It’s like high school all over again, and I, for one, am not going to stand for it in my adult life.
I’m sick of being treated like I’m delicate, like one wrong move or word will send me into a tailspin and leave me crying in a heap on my bedroom floor. I’m not that girl anymore.
It’s only been a few weeks since I moved to North Creek, and I know things have been rocky, but for fuck’s sake, I’m trying here.
The least he can do is show me the decency of treating me like I can take care of myself.
I appreciate him looking out for me, but at this point, it’s sending me mixed signals.
I’m distracted every single time he’s here when I’m working, and yeah, my job isn’t that hard, but I don’t need a fucking babysitter.
I’ve officially exited the poor me stage and jumped straight into the bite me stage.
My parents raised me to be independent, to look after myself and never find myself relying on anyone else for my own happiness.
That’s the woman they taught me to be, and I’ve been fighting tooth and nail to pick myself up and get back to her.
Levi plagues my dreams nearly every night, making the nightmares I used to have so few and far between now that I almost forget that there was a time where I’d have them every night.
In a way, the dreams of Levi are almost worse.
They follow me into my waking hours, and there’s only so many times I can push them to the back of my mind before they come bubbling up and spilling out.
Even as I contemplate all of this while mixing a tray of green tea shots for the freshly twenty-one-year-old girls standing expectantly in front of me, I know that I’m not going to be able to bring it up to him.
Who am I kidding? I’m not that brave. Not nearly brazen enough to fling myself off the cliff and take a chance that maybe he might feel the same way about me. And why should I? Shouldn’t it be him chasing me?
I sound like a lovesick fool, and feel like one too.
Maybe I’m so touch starved that it’s starting to affect how I’m perceiving our friendship.
Because that’s what we are—friends. I wasn’t so sure in the beginning, but it’s clear to me now that we’ve built a friendship around each other.
But living with the man is becoming unbearable!
Knowing that he’s only a few steps down the hallway, living in the same space as me while we exist in two completely different worlds, is maddening.
I line the shots up across the bar for the girls, their squeals of delight grating on my already frayed nerves as I process their payment.
Maybe I need to fuck him out of my system.
A one-time thing to satisfy this ache inside me, and then we can go back to being friends, or roommates, or whatever it is that we are.
It’ll be nothing more than a means to an end.
Besides, who am I to think that I have any business starting a relationship with someone so soon after all that shit with Travis went down? I’m still healing.
What I don’t know is how long I’m supposed to heal before I start thinking about getting involved with someone else.
I watch the girls take the shots, slamming the glasses down on the bartop and demanding another round.
One of the girls wraps her arms around another, screaming a shrill, “I love you!” in her ear.
The girl returns her friend’s affection, and, despite how drunk they obviously are, it makes me smile a little, despite myself.
“Hey, babe!”
I’m pulled from my thoughts and look up to see Jessie standing in front of me on the other side of the bar.
I haven’t seen her since our impromptu hiking trip last weekend where she took me on easily the toughest trail I’ve encountered yet, but damn, was the view at the top worth it. A grin splits my face.
“Jessie! What are you doing here? I didn’t think this was your scene,” I shout over the thumping music. She shrugs.
“I thought I’d stop by for a bit. I figured you’d be working, and I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“We just went hiking last weekend,” I joke with her, and she rolls her eyes at me, flipping a lock of her hair over her bare shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah. Like I said, it’s been forever! Can I get a vodka soda?”
“Coming right up.” I grab what I need for her drink and make it on the bar in front of us, leaning closer so I can hear her better.
“Justin’s here,” I tease, and she scoffs, but I don’t miss the slight pink in her cheeks.
“He’s over in the corner booth with the guys.
I can bring this over to you if you want to go join them. ”
“That’s okay, I can wait.” She plays with the silver ring on her thumb, twisting it around her finger, clearly wanting to say something else.
There’s an undeniable tension between Jessie and Justin, and it’s clear that there’s some history she hasn’t yet shared with me.
As curious as I am, I refuse to rush her.
Not until she’s ready. Still, I can’t help but wonder what happened between them that has her so obviously nervous to spend any time with him.
They seemed okay when we hiked to the waterfall.
“Out with it, Jessie.”
“I know he’s an ass like ninety percent of the time, but he’s nice to look at.”
I give her a knowing smirk and waggle my eyebrows suggestively.
She groans. “Actually, you’re right. I’m being stupid. Maybe he hasn’t seen me yet. I’ll just down this real quick,” she grabs the drink, throwing it back and gulping it down until the ice clinks in the bottom of the glass, “and make a break for it before he notices.”
“I think it’s a little late for that, love,” I say, pointing to Justin, who’s making his way over to us. He stops to stand behind her, and she doesn’t turn around, but her eyes widen.
“He’s right behind me, isn’t he?” she asks nervously.
Justin grabs her around the waist, lifts her, and twirls her in a circle, nearly knocking over not one, but two people before placing her back on her feet.
“You just couldn’t stay away, could you?” he drawls, and Jessie’s face goes beet red with rage. Or is that… embarrassment?
“Let go of me, you idiot!”
“Come on, Jess, don’t be like that. I know you still think about me.”
“I absolutely do not,” Jessie replies vehemently.
“You do. It’s okay if you’re not ready to admit it yet. Come on. Come sit with us.”
Jessie rolls her eyes at him, but doesn’t push him away.
“We’re so talking about this later,” I say to her, laughing as Justin pulls her away from me and towards the corner booth while I fix her another drink.
I’m just putting it on the tray, preparing to carry it over to them, when the green tea girls flag me down and order another round.
My eyes flit to the corner booth, wishing I could join them on that side for once instead of being stuck behind the bar.
I’m working on the shots when Layla breezes by behind me.
“Layla!” I call out, and she stops, turning to me with a, what the hell do you want? look on her face. I hold out the tray to her. “Would you mind bringing this over to table twelve for me?”
I realize my mistake when her entire demeanor changes, and she practically rips the tray from my grasp without a word, her smug smile twisted up in victory.
Of course, she has no problem taking the drink over for me.
The man sitting there, still nursing the bourbon I poured him, is enticement enough.
I get it, girl. I really do.
I finish up the green tea shots before I’m flagged down by a group of guys ready for beer refills at the other end of the bar.
I fall into a steady rhythm, mixing and pouring, serving one group after another.
The constant movement has my feet aching and sweat pouring down my temples, and I swipe it away with the back of my hand, but there’s something satisfying about the fast-paced environment.
In between tossing a few bills in the tip jar while simultaneously swiping someone’s card, I glance at the clock above the bar.
One-thirty A.M. Which means it’s nearly time for last call, and, honestly, I can’t wait for this night to be over.
All I want to do is shower the stale beer off of me, crawl into bed, and sleep for the next twelve hours.
It’s then that I realize I haven’t seen Layla since I sent her over with Jessie’s drink nearly an hour ago. I swivel my head back and forth, trying to see through the throng of very drunk patrons to see if I can spot her.
I can’t find her, and I am livid.
Without even realizing it, I’ve been taking care of the entire bartop on my own for nearly an hour, yet I’m still going to be expected to split my tips with her at the end of the night.
I slap the credit card slip and a pen down in front of a group of guys and turn to leave, when a hand reaches out and grabs my own.
I’m a little shocked at the bold move, not appreciating the fact that this guy thinks he can touch me without my permission.
I start to tell him as much when the slide of a folded-up bill in the palm of my hand causes me to look down before he lets me go.
“I’ve seen you busting your ass all night while your co-worker spent her night non-stop flirting with the guests.
That tip is for you, and don’t you even think about splitting it.
Have a good rest of your night.” With a wink, the man turns and heads for the door, and I watch his retreating form for only a second before the crowd closes back around him.
I look down and open my palm, revealing a crisp hundred-dollar bill sitting there, staring back at me.
My stomach flutters at the generous tip, and I slip it into my back pocket before Layla catches sight of it.
And then I recall the stranger’s words to me.
While your co-worker spent her night non-stop flirting with the guests.
Where the actual fuck is Layla? It takes a lot to get me truly angry, but I practically have smoke blowing out of my ears at this point as I, again, scan the crowd for her.
It only takes a minute of searching before I spot her at table twelve, perched in Levi’s lap as she twines her arms around his neck and pushes her tits right in his face.
I’m turning away before I know what I’m doing. There is no part of me that needs to see any more. The image is already burned into my retinas like an unwanted brand.