Page 101 of The Barkeep and the Bro

The guys raised their glasses and nudged me to join. Our glasses clinked in a tight circle.

“What should we toast to?” Everett asked.

“To right now,” I said, my heart full from so many things.

* * *

The bar wasat its messiest on Musical Mondays. What started with patrons singing along to Broadway songs turned into a full-tilt pride parade, with guests bringing streamers and props and glitter.

Most of which ended up on the floor.

We stayed until the wee hours cleaning up. Mitch pitched in, too. I didn’t know how, but Natasha still had the energy to sing to herself. She said it was the only way she could stay awake. It was two in the morning when we finished. The balmy spring air made it comfortable outside as Mitch locked up.

“Good night, you guys.” Natasha teased us with a smile as she walked backward to her car.

“See you on Wednesday,” Mitch said, all business. It was an open not-at-all-secret that we were dating, but he was still determined to be clandestine about it. When other employees asked me for details, I stayed mum. It would kill Mitch if anything personal got out, like how he loved to be cuddled.

Natasha drove off, and then there were two. Mitch rubbed my arms to keep me warm. His grin still took my breath away.

“Ready to go home?” Mitch asked.

“Hell yeah, Boss. I am dog tired.”

Home.

Mitch’s home. We drove the familiar blocks to his small house perched at the end of a street up against the woods. Lush green trees surrounded the home. Half of my nights were spent here. He gave me two drawers in his dresser and space on his sink for toiletries. It was cute watching him fumble with sharing his bedroom and bathroom at first. He’d lived by himself for years; he’d never shared his bed with someone since he was married. But he found a way to reshape his life to fit me in, and that meant the world to me.

I stripped down to boxers for bed. If I were cold, Mitch and his hairy chest would keep me warm. We got into the queen-sized bed. While we usually wound up with me as the little spoon, which I think I was built for by nature, first Mitch was the one who got cuddled.

Even big ole bears needed loving.

He rested his heavy head against my chest, his deep breathing humming on my skin. I crossed my hands over his broad chest; the thumbs could barely touch.

“When does your bartending school begin?” he asked me, already halfway to sleep.

“Thursday. We’re full up. Depending on how it goes, I may expand to two classes in the summer.”

“That’s great. You’re quite the businessman. All these ideas are keeping us afloat.”

I had never thought of myself as a businessman. People had told me I wasn’t serious enough. I should take a job and keep my head down. There were so many times in my life when people thought they were being helpful with the truth when really they were making me feel small and stupid. Those past jobs and career paths weren’t for me; at Stone’s Throw, I unlocked a drive and a thirst to be my own boss. It was Mitch who believed in me, who showed me I could soar.

He peeked up at me with those warm, sleepy eyes. “What do you think about a promotion?”

“Oh.” I sat up. It had been on my mind, but I hadn’t broached the subject.

“Assistant manager.”

“Really? Would I still work behind the bar?”

“No, you’d be entering the ranks of management. But you’ve shown that you have an aptitude for business.”

“It helps I’m sleeping with the boss.”

Mitch whipped his head around, his body tense. “Charlie, that is not why. Please don’t think that. If nothing had happened between us, I would still be offering you the assistant manager role.” He looked down at his half-naked self cuddled against my half-naked self. “Maybe not in this exact way.”

“I’d hope not.” I ran my hand across his beard for no reason other than I really wanted to.

He got serious. “You’ve proven yourself to be a vital asset to the bar. You work hard, are a great team member, and are full of passion and ideas. Trust me; this has been earned.”

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