Page 2 of Falling for You
This time some asshole who I’ve kicked out of this bar multiple times, has her back to his chest, and he’s running his hand down her body.
Hunter’s eyes follow mine and see exactly what I’m seeing. “I know why I want to tear that guy’s head off, but you’ve been looking at Em like that all night. You’re usually her champion for getting us to back off. What’s the deal?”
This time his stare is directed at me. And it’s true. I used to be her champion, because it was me she came home to in the dark of night for orgasms.
“Look at her! How the fuck did you let her out of the house looking like that? Have you not seen the assholes falling at her feet tonight? That particular asshole has been kicked out of here no less than six times, and arrested more!”
At this exact moment, Liam stomps over and rips the guy’s hand off her. “See. You can chill, man. We’ve got this under control.”
I scoff, “They were already too close. Liam was too late.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think that you have a thing for Ems.” He laughs at the sheer ridiculousness of me having a thing for his baby sister, a sister who is seven years younger than me.
If only he knew the truth, he’d be across this bar beating my ass.
And this whole conversation is a stark reminder of why I ended things. Being with Emma means losingallmy friends, including my best friend since Kindergarten. Along with my pride. Because if she told me this was more, more than orgasms, I’d blow up my life in a second to have her in it.
I have to watch Emma for another torturous two hours before she finally gets tired of her brothers interfering and leaves the bar, thankfully alone. But it doesn’t stop me from kicking out the handsy asshole. The same handsy asshole from earlier when I was talking to Hunter. He’s used to it, but he’ll be back after he licks his wounds in a couple weeks.
I flash the lights before leaving them on, signaling last call. Most people take that as their hint to get out. My bartenders make the last few drinks before closing down.
“Kitchen’s clean,” Clark says.
Clark was my most surprising hire when I opened. As a kid he always scared the shit out of me. A massive dude that looked like Paul Bunyan, and had an attitude that matched. But now in his older age, I discovered that his hidden talent is cooking. He makes the best food out of all the surrounding towns. People come just for him sometimes and not my beer.
“Thanks Clark. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See ya tomorrow, son.” Even though I’m his boss he still treats me like a kid. But I can’t blame him at his age watching me grow up and now working for me. I don’t actually monitor him much. He’s more of a partner than an employee. I trust him implicitly to run my kitchen.
When my bartenders have all the chairs up on the tables I send them home. I like to handle the closing on my own at the end of the night. I play my favorite playlist over the speakers and bust out the remaining cleaning.
I’m behind the bar lifting up all the mats to bring them outside to spray off when my skin prickles, that can only mean one thing.
Emma came back.
I look up to see her sauntering across the floor to where I am.
“Hey, Rome.” She leans her hip against the end of the bar.
“Ems. What are you doing here?”
She pouts, “You don’t want to see me?”
I walk by her bringing the mats out to the back room. “It’s not that. You know I love to see you. But things aren’t the same anymore, remember?”
She points her finger into her chest, “I remember that,” —she points her finger into my chest this time— “you are the one who made that decision without so much as asking my opinion. Had you asked me, I would have continued to choose the orgasms.”
Fuck. I love giving this woman orgasms, and I’d love to be able to make that choice too. But I can’t.
She comes over to me, leaning her body into mine.
“Ems. We can’t keep doing this.”
“Just one more time.” She unzips my pants and reaches in to grip my cock.
As much as it kills me I remove her hand. “We can’t.”
Her body goes rigid, and her nostrils flare. “Fuck you, Rome.”
