Page 83 of The Barkeep and the Bro

I gave her a salute, then went to my room. Alone.

* * *

I showeredand watched a cooking show in my boxers. The cumulative work and stress from the weekend caught up with me, and exhaustion seeped into my bones and muscles. Yet I couldn’t fall asleep.

I checked my phone, not sure what I was looking for. A message from Charlie?

I wanted to make sure he got back all right. He was probably just as exhausted as I was. Did he really have the energy to party?

My questions were answered ten minutes later when the door unlocked, and he sat on the far side of the bed.

“That was a short afterparty,” I said.

“I didn’t go.” He had his back to me as he took off his shoes. “I’m tired.”

“You turned down a party? I’m in shock.”

He whipped around. “Is that what you think of me? I’m just some party animal?”

“No,” I said, taken aback by the dark edge in his voice. “I thought you were going.”

He tossed his shoes onto the floor. “Well, I didn’t. It’s been a long day.”

A long day that you regretted?

“You should probably get some sleep.”

“That’s the plan.” He whipped off his shirt and threw it on a chair. He stormed into the bathroom, leaving a trail of ice in his wake.

How the hell were we supposed to share a bed when it was obvious he wanted nothing to do with me? Twenty-four hours ago, we’d slept in each other’s arms.

Now we were here.

I called the front desk to double-check if they had any extra rooms or spare cots. It was a big no on both fronts.

Charlie exited the bathroom with brushed teeth and the same serious look stamped on his face. He stripped down to his boxers, which would’ve given me a hard-on had the room not been filled with uncomfortable tension.

“Thanks again for helping this weekend.”

He threw his pants on the floor. “Stop thanking me, Mitch!”

Mitch. It was weird to hear my name on my tongue.

“What the hell is your problem? What did I do?”

“Nothing. I mean, it’s just...” He paced in the small space the room allowed. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m your employee. It’s part of the job.”

“You went above and beyond.”

“Doing what?” His words dared me to tell the truth, to get into the things we did today. “Dancing with you?”

“I appreciated that you did.”

“Why did you ask me to dance?”

He waited for an answer, but I couldn’t give him the truth. He had just dipped his toe into the bisexual waters. The truth would freak him out. The truth was freaking me out.

The truth was I was falling for him, developing feelings I promised myself I wouldn’t get.

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