Page 55 of The Non-Hook Up

Everyone cheers and raises their glasses before throwing them back, and I continue to look out at the people that helped to provide me with a new way of life.

Later that night,Riley's finishing cleaning up the kitchen as I say goodnight to the boys. When the door closes behind them, the apartment descends into silence, broken up only by the sound of running water from the kitchen as Riley washes the dishes.

I stand there with my back against the cool wood of the door and think of that moment we shared earlier in the night. We had gotten so close to complicating this relationship beyond repair, but funny enough, I don’t regret it. In fact, I wish we had complicated things, because dancing around this is not making it simple. It’s more confusing than ever.

Was it just me? It couldn’t have been. I saw that look in his eyes; he wanted me too. But what if that’s not it?

Damnit, I'm not used to this uncertainty, not with men. Usually, I know where I stand, but with Riley, it's different. I don't want to ruin this, but I can feel it, what is growing between us, and it can’t just be me, can it?

Suddenly nervous, I force my legs to carry me to the kitchen until I am staring at Riley’s sculpted back being hugged by his T-shirt. I want to run my hands down his back and then up his shoulders, feeling the muscles ripple under my palms.

I stand there, searching my brain for something to say, when Riley turns the water off, flicking his hands and turning to face me, seeing a flicker of surprise at seeing me there.

His eyes hold mine, and I can see the conflict there, and that only makes my nerves grow. What is going on in his head?

He blinks, looks away at the floor as he rubs his hands together, sighing. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

He moves to walk past me, not looking me in the eyes, and I try not to show the hurt in him doing that, blocking me out. I quickly stammer out, “Or you could watch a movie with me?” He stops in the middle of the living area, turning to face me slowly, the regret still there as I say with a nervous smile, “Or we could have another drink? Together?”

He holds my eyes for a moment before running his hand through his hair, his shirt hiking up enough to show a sliver of stomach. “Mia, I’m really tired. Maybe another time.” And without another word, he turns and leaves me in the kitchen as he makes his way towards the hallway.

As he reaches the entrance of the hallway, he stops and my hope picks back up as he turns and says, “Thanks for tonight. It means a lot to all of us.”

And my hope hits the floor, but I force a smile. “No problem.”

And just like that, he leaves, and I am alone in the kitchen, wondering if maybe it was just me seeing it.

CHAPTER 29

MIA

Well, tonight is definitely going to be different. The guys and I are all on tonight and we’ve been warned that we have two 21stbirthdays for a couple of guys and three bachelor parties. Danny doesn’t usually allow these things to happen on the same night, but they offered a large sum of money for alcohol. They each know about the other, but they seem to be cool with it.

It's all set in motion, yet no amount of work could shake off the rejection I still felt at Riley leaving me in the kitchen and still refusing to talk about what happened the other night. We still talk, but it feels different, tense.

I'm getting ready for my shift when Riley calls from outside of my door to tell me that he's heading down early to help set everything up and that he'll see me down there. I look in the mirror, pleased with the black jeans, boots, and black tank top with the usual logo. I run my hands through my hair to make it wilder, my blonde hair making my red lipstick pop further. I might be rejected, but I will push through, complete this shift, and then stuff my face with ice cream because I have a job to do.

By the time I make it down there for my shift, the band has started playing, and the bar is full of bodies banging their heads to the music while holding beer bottles in the air to cheers the band on stage. It's so loud, I can barely hear myself think as I make my way down the stairs to the bar, seeing the boys rush around, handing out bottles and shot glasses by the lot, trying to thin the crowd before them.

Looking at the crowd filling around the bar, I know they have gotten drunk long before coming here. Soon, we will need to stop serving some of them once they start showing us they are unable to walk. I already see a few stumbling around, so it won’t be long.

I approach the bar, but when I reach it, Danny blocks me, handing me a tray full of many shots. “Can you take this to those guys? They’ve been waiting since opening, and I haven’t been able to step out.”

He points and I follow his finger and see a group of seven men, all dressed nicely in dark blue jeans and button-down shirts with blazers, expensive watches on their wrists and shiny shoes on their feet. Looking at them, I know one is having their 21stand I know their kind well. They're sons of rich men, always trying to prove they're grown up, when they usually remind me of children playing dress up.

I nod and Danny gives me a grateful smile as he returns to the bar, and I take the tray in my hands, not telling Danny that I actually know one of the men. I recognise the one sitting in a dark grey blazer and a shirt with too many buttons undone to show a lack of chest hair, his black hair styled with too much gel and hairspray, you’d probably hear it crunch when you run your hands through it. Actually, you do. I know because I was forced to go out on a date with him by my mother years ago, and he looked the same. I was young and bored on the date I was forced to go on, and it turns out, kissing the guy in his daddy's car doesn’t make it more fun, nor does it shut him up. Safe to say, that date ended quickly with him cursing me out for not giving it up to him, like he deserved it.

I even remember his name, Laurence Cambridge.

Honestly, it isn't great to see him again, but luckily, I only have to hand them their drinks and leave and hope he doesn’t realise who I am.

I take a breath, making my way through the crowd, holding the tray with both hands, and force a smile when I reach their table, placing the shot glasses down. “Sorry it took so long, gentlemen.”

“That’s alright, honey. Maybe you can make it up to us.” the one with wild curly hair exclaims, followed by a rambunctious laugh from himself and his friends. But it's hard to miss the way Laurence watches me, his eyes moving over me with a furrowed brow as if figuring out a puzzle. He's figuring it out.

I force a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. “Sorry, boys, but thishoneydon’t work that way.”

I go to leave, and I am stopped by a tight grip on my wrist. “Aw, don’t be like that.”

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