Page 24 of Stay with Me

Bile rose in my throat as what I was saying really sank in. I was seriously broke. My life was seriously on hold. I also might seriously be sick.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

I flinched.

Jax had moved around the desk and he was closer. I didn’t want him closer. Nervous, I smoothed my hands over my denim-clad thighs. “Plan B,” I whispered.

“What?”

My voice shook as I spoke. “Plan B. I need to get a job and make as much money as I can this summer.” I glanced around the office and I suddenly knew what I needed to do, to get the control back. There was a knot in my chest, and I wanted to cut it out, but there would be no cutting it out. “I can work here.”

He started, and then he frowned. “Work here? Honey, this is not your kind of place.”

I spared him a look. “It doesn’t look like it’s your kind of place, either.”

“Why is that?” he fired back.

“Look at you.” I gestured in a wide circle in front of him. “You don’t look like you should be working in a dive bar.”

An eyebrow rose. “I like to think it’s one step up from a dive bar.”

“A little step,” I muttered.

One side of his lips kicked up. “Where do you think I should be working at?”

“I don’t know.” Sitting back, I brushed my hair off my forehead and sighed. “Maybe at Hot Guys R Us.”

His brows flew up. “So, you think I’m hot.”

I rolled my eyes. “I can see quite fine, Jax.”

“If you think I’m hot, then why were you so resistant to going out with me when you first came into the bar?”

I stared at him, wondering how the conversation veered off to this. “Does that really matter?”

“Yes.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

His eyes glimmered with amusement. “We’ll agree to disagree.”

“We aren’t agreeing on anything.” I pushed up and stopped. He hadn’t moved, and the space was cramped. I couldn’t walk around him. “I can work here.”

“A rough crowd comes in on the weekends. Maybe you should try the Outback down the street or something.”

“I’m not afraid of any rednecks,” I grumbled.

Jax narrowed his eyes at me.

“What?” I threw up my hands. “Not like the bar can’t use my help. And Ineedmoney. Obviously. And maybe by working here I can make some tips and maybe get back some of the money, even if it’s a small percentage.”

“Making tips?” He took another step forward, and I was stuck between him and the chair. “What do you think you’d be doing here?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “I can bartend.”

“Have you ever done that before?” When I shrugged again, he laughed outright. Now my eyes were narrowing on him. “Honey, it’s not that easy.”

“Can’t be that hard.”

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