Page 72 of Wish You Would

I was in deep shit.

Not literally, thankfully. Though, working in a bar taught me that that, sadly, was not out of the realm of possibility. We’d been on a shit-free streak lately, though, and I was hoping it’d keep holding steady.

God. I disgusted myself.

It’d been two days since I bared my soul to Parker. Up till now, I’d only ever bared my hole to someone. I did not know how to charter this new territory. Part of me wanted to barricade myself behind an iron-clad wall and never come out, while the other part…well, the other part wanted to curl up in Parker’s lap like a lost kitten and let her take care of me. I had whiplash from my own damn desires.

Shoving away from the bar, I marched through the employees-only door. I needed a distraction from said non-literal deep shit. Which was the absolute worst way to think about my feelings for Parker, but I never said I was eloquent.

“How’s it going back here, gentlefolk?” I asked as I entered the kitchen. Artie and Kai were hard at work prepping for open, and they barely acknowledged me. Probably had something to do with the Bluetooth speaker blasting a wicked good pop mix. I watched for a moment longer, smiling to myself as Kai danced along to Natalie Imbruglia’s iconic hit, “Torn.”

Had to add that one to the band’s setlist, I thought, then stopped dead in my tracks. I wouldn’t be adding anything to any set list, because I was not taking the gig. I could not take the gig. No matter how much I wanted it.

Parker’s words echoed through my mind as I uprooted from the floor and headed for the office. She was right: Vaughn would be pissed if he knew. He was an amazing brother. The best human I knew. If he knew how I’d been shoving my own dreams aside to facilitate his…he’d kick my ass in the way only a big brother could.

Which was why he wasn’t going to find out.

I couldn’t sing with Patti Mayonnaise anymore. Not here at the bar, and not anywhere else. At this point, it was masochism, pure and simple. I wanted it too bad. It was playing with fire. If I kept up, if I kept getting on that stage, letting the music reignite my bones, the stage lights on my skin and the crowd’s cheers feeding my soul…I wouldn’t be able to walk away.

And I had to walk away.

The last time I followed these feelings, I ended up oceans away from my family when they needed me most. The last time I led with my heart, my selfish, greedy heart, I’d left more damage in my wake than a hurricane.

I couldn’t let that happen again.

Swallowing the burning disappointment way, way down, I made one more lap around the bar in search of something, anything to do. Something to distract me from the jumble in my brain. Tonight was one of those nights where my presence was not needed. Wednesday night, smack in the middle of the week, and the place was steady. Not weekend busy, but steady. The team was fine. A-okay. Without me.

My crew was a well-oiled machine, barely requiring a tune-up. My shifts at Heathcliff’s had become nothing more than chatting with customers as I circulated the bar searching for something, anything to do. Every now and then, I’d jump in and help the waitresses when it got particularly busy. Or hop behind the bar to lend Dante an extra hand. But…yeah. They were holding it the fuck down.

I was proud. Of them, and of me.

When I came up empty, I ducked into the office for some good old paperwork. No matter how smooth things were going, there would always be paperwork. Settling in, I grabbed a freshly sharpened pencil and opened the top folder, getting to work.

I didn’t know how long I’d been working, staring at spreadsheet after spreadsheet, soothed by the chaotic sounds of Kai and Artie in the kitchen. When I came up for air, I found Parker standing in the doorway.

“Oh, shit,” I said, throwing a hand to my chest. “How long have you been there?” My pulse thrummed erratically, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the scare or Parker. I had a hunch, though.

“Not long.” She smiled and, like my heart was tethered to the curve of her lips, I stood, closing the already short distance between us. “Sorry,” she continued as I put my hand on her waist and pulled her close. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Best jump scare ever,” I said, breathing in the strawberry of her shampoo and the sugar of her skin. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she whispered back as she looped her arms over my neck. “I missed you.”

Those three little words were sweeter than the most decadent dessert. I savored every one. “Missed you, too,” I whispered, grazing my lips over hers. “I’m glad to see you aren’t buried alive under a stack of books.”

She laughed, a rueful sound, and shuddered. “How did you know that’s my worst nightmare?” She leaned her head back so she could see my face. “Getting so caught up in studying that the wall of papers and books I’ve accumulated caves in on me, and no one knows for weeks, until it’s too late. And, by then, Wilbur will have already eaten my corpse.”

“Oh, my god.” I laughed and pulled her all the way into the office, closing the door behind her. “I think we need to cut you off from the true crime docs.”

Her blue eyes widened. “Not my emotional support true crime docs!”

“Luckily,” I said as I stepped forward until she was backed against the door. “You don’t have to worry about any of that.” I took one last step toward her, our bodies flush now. Her gaze heated, lingering on my mouth. “I’m the only one who’s going to devour you.”

She laughed again, but this time it was a low, throaty sound. “Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm.” I grabbed her hands in mine and pinned them over her head.

She raised her chin to meet my eyes, her chest rising and falling with increasing speed. “S-starting now?” she whispered.

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