As I walk by Paul’s apartment door, I’m so tempted to knock. There’s no reason why. At least, not one I’m aware of. Something about him just draws me to him. Makes me want to be around him. Even though I know how bad the idea is, I can’t seem to stay away. I force myself to keep walking past his door and to my car. Working is just what I need. If I’m busy, I won’t have time to spend thinking about him. Maybe at night I’ll be so tired from being on my feet for hours, I won’t dream about him anymore either. Which reminds me, I need to pick up more batteries for the Paul stand-in I keep in the top drawer of my bedside table. Since I’ve met Paul, that poor thing gets one hell of a workout.
Pulling into the parking lot of KC’s, my hands begin to shake and my mouth goes dry. “Pull it together. You’ve been to hell and back more than once, you can handle a job. Stop being a baby,” I tell myself as I check my face one more time in the rearview mirror. “You can do this. This is the last piece of your new life puzzle.” Smiling to myself, I exit my car. I’m ready. Once I get that first paycheck, I’ll be officially taking care of myself. That’s gonna be one hell of a feeling.
Walking into the bar, I’m pleasantly surprised at how much nicer it looks now that all the renovations are finished. The last owner let the place fall apart, but Kyle brought it back to life. He’s updated it while keeping the original vibe. It has a fun, casual feel to it. The bar is u-shaped, located prominently in the center of the room. It has a gorgeous carved, dark wood base with a black granite countertop. Off to the right is a raised stage area with a dance floor. Behind the bar is a long rectangle window with a counter leading back to the kitchen. To the left, all along the walls, booths are set up and tables rest in the center of the floor. Two neon signs hang on the far, back, left corner above an arched doorway. One sign reads: POOL TABLES. The other brightly announces: RESTROOMS.
Kyle greets me with a huge smile when he sees me standing there, admiring the changes. “Well? What do you think?” he asks, handing me an apron, order ticket book, and a pen. The dry lump in my throat returns. This is it. My first job.
“It looks great, definitely the kind of place where I’d like to hang out,” I tell him honestly. It really is somewhere I can see myself hanging out, even when my shift is over. I have a feeling this is going to be a very popular place. There’s nothing else like it in this sleepy little town.
“Thank you. Let me show you around. My buddy will be bartending and helping you out. He should be here soon. Walt is a really nice guy, but I feel like should warn you...he’s been through a lot of shit that has left some pretty deep scars. He believes it’s better for him and any woman he might care for not to ever have a relationship that goes beyond being friends. He won’t be friends with girls he’s slept with and he won’t sleep with a girl he’s friends with. Does that make sense?” he asks. All I can do is nod my head yes. I feel bad for this poor guy. I, too, know how it feels to think you’re so broken and damaged you’ll destroy anyone who loves you.
“I don’t want you to fall for him or anything and think it can go anywhere. He’s the kind of guy who plays one-night only performances, with no returns. ” When he looks up and sees me glaring at him in disbelief, he starts to back pedal. Why would he assume I’d fall all over this guy? “Not that I think you’d be into him, it’s just most women are. I think you’re a nice girl and I don’t want to see you get hurt, so I just wanted to make sure I said something. He’s been this way for years and I don’t see it ever changing.”
“I get it. Don’t worry. The last thing on my mind is a relationship of any kind. I just left a really bad one and I’m happy being on my own. Thanks for looking out for me, though,” I tell Kyle. I’m thankful when he doesn’t press me for details. I’m just not ready to share my past with anyone yet, especially my new boss. He brings me to the kitchen and introduces me to Marty and Clark, the cooks. Both men seem very nice. Quiet, but nice. Kyle shows me how to run the registers and how he wants the close down process to go. He leaves me to fill salt and pepper shakers while he checks to see if Walt is here yet. So far, the job doesn’t seem to be too complicated. But…we still haven’t opened yet either.
Just as I’m putting the cap on the last shaker, Kyle yells for me. I finish what I’m doing and head out of the storage room. Legs are hanging out from under the bar and Kyle is standing next to them. Kyle’s talking about the keg the legs are hooking up to the taps. That must be Walt. There’s something strangely familiar about those legs… well, more so, the pair of combat boots. I stop dead in my tracks when the pair of legs speaks. The lump in my throat comes back and if I could see myself, I’d bet I’m as white as a ghost. I know that voice. At least…I think I do. It sounds just like Paul, but Kyle called his friend Walt. Am I imagining the similarities because I’m wanting to be around Paul? Holy shit! Do I miss him? No, that can’t be it. We’re just friends. There is nothing more than that possible for us. I can see it on his face when he looks at me. He doesn’t want to be more and neither do I. Or, at least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
“Hey, man, come out and meet our waitress,” Kyle says. As soon as my name leaves his lips, the pair of legs moves to sit up and smacks his head on the wooden cabinet, forgetting where he is. A few curse words fly before the man emerges from underneath the counter. When I see his face, my knees begin to buckle. I quickly sit on a stool before I fall to the floor. Paul looks just as shocked to see as I am. Well, I hope its shock and not anger. It’s kind of hard to tell. Kyle keeps looking from me to Paul and Paul to me. If he doesn’t stop, he’ll make himself dizzy.
“What is it? Do you two already know each other?” he questions as he looks to me for an answer. I’m still too stunned to form the words, so I just nod my head yes. “What am I missing? How do yo...oh, wait. How did I not catch this? Holly, you’re the redhead who just moved into the apartment next to Paul.” Again, I nod, still unable to catch my breath. How the hell am I going to distract myself away from Paul if I have to work with him twelve to fourteen hours a day? This is not going to be easy. Kyle has a sly grin on his face, as if he’s enjoying the discomfort Paul and I are obviously sharing.
“Why didn’t you tell me this was where you were working?” Paul asks me. His tone is a little harsh, which surprises me.
“I don’t know. It never came up. Plus, I didn’t know you worked here either. Kyle kept calling you Walt. Why is that, by the way?” My voice is a little shakier than I want it to be. I shouldn’t have to explain myself to anyone, especially him. Kyle must start to feel the tension, so he speaks up.
“I call him Walt because the club we used to work at had two guys named Paul and it got confusing. So I came up with Walt. Ya know, from Walters,” Kyle explains. When no one says anything, he continues, trying to ease the tension. “I thought you guys got along? Haven’t you been hanging out together for the last month?” Clearly, Kyle is as confused as I am by Paul’s tone.
“I wouldn’t call it hanging out. I’ve helped her out a few times and gone over for dinner with Angel, Marcus, and Taryn,” Paul states. Something about his words stings and my defenses go up.
“Don’t worry,
Walt
. I’ll stay out of your way. There’s no reason we can’t work around each other. According to you, it’s not like we’re even really friends or anything, right,” I tell him with a shrug of my shoulders. He looks almost hurt, but why? He basically just said the same thing to me.
“Yeah, there won’t be a problem,” Paul says before turning back to hook up the keg.
Well, that was weird.
Whatever. I shouldn’t care anyway. Keeping him at a distance is what I wanted to begin with. Knowing he’s on the same page makes it that much easier. At least…it should.
The bar stays busy all afternoon until closing time. I’m catching on quickly and actually enjoying myself. All the people in this town seem so nice and friendly. They were all so welcoming. This town could be the subject of a Norman Rockwell painting. I now know where to go to have my hair done. Pat, one of the owners of the only salon in town, thought my hair was beautiful and couldn’t wait to get her hands on it. I also now know where to buy meat, get flowers, take my car for service, and have my dry cleaning needs met. I seemed to be the center of attention today. Everyone wanted to check out Kyle’s new place as well as meet Oakville’s newest resident. I guess not too many new people ever move here. Most people will leave when they’re young and come back when they’re ready to settle down and start their families. I can see the appeal in that. It appears to be a quiet, friendly, and safe place to live. Except for one resident, everyone has made me feel at home and welcome.
I can’t help but steal glimpses of Paul throughout my shift. I don’t understand this man at all. A few times, I notice him doing the same to me. The mixed signals this man throws off are so fucking confusing. Remembering the warning Kyle had given me about
Walt
, I wonder what it is Paul has been through to make him so closed off. Is that why one minute he seems to care for me and the next acts like I have a deadly disease? I can understand not wanting a heavy romantic involvement with someone. I get that. I do. I feel the same way. It’s the last thing I want in my life right now, maybe ever. But I thought we had a connection. Like...somehow we understood the pain and how broken we are without ever having to say a word. Looks like I imagined that, along with thinking he was my friend. Just thinking about not having him as a friend makes me nauseous. If it were another time, another place, I probably would’ve wanted to be more than a friend, but it’s not and I was happy just to spend time with him. He is the only person I’ve been around who has made me feel completely safe. I was starting to enjoy that feeling.
Finally, at three a.m., we have everything shut down, put away, and cleaned up. Exhausted, I walk into the storage room to get my purse from my locker, ready to go home and fall into bed. I’m so wiped out, I don’t think I’ll have enough energy to change. When I turn around to leave, I slam into a hard, warm chest. The instant his cologne hits my nostrils, I know it’s Paul’s muscular chest I’m currently pressed up against. I stay there a few seconds longer than I should, enjoying how good it feels. To my surprise, he makes no effort to move either. The beat of his heart picks up to a rapid speed, one that matches my own. When his hands snake around my waist, my knees buckle and I wobble, almost falling. His grip tightens to hold me up. Snapping out of this lust-filled daze, I try to pull away, but his grip just gets tighter. Normally, I’d be panicked by now, but, like always, I’m not feeling threatened. At least not physically. My heart is a different story. He pulls me even closer to him, hugging me. My insides explode like fireworks on the Fourth of July. My skin heats and it’s taking everything I have not to lean into him a little more and run my tongue along those delicious biceps staring me in the face. He rests his chin on the top of my head and when he nuzzles my hair and let’s a low, “Mmm”, I just can’t take anymore. With all the strength I have, I break away from his embrace. Immediately, I feel a loss.
“What the hell?” I yell as I back away from him. He has a pained look on his face. I wonder whether it’s from me yelling or the enormous hard-on he’s sporting?
Holy hell!
I know how he feels. How can a man turn me on this much from just hugging me? His eyes follow the path mine took. When he sees what I did, he looks at me and smirks. The cocky SOB. “I don’t understand you at all. One minute, you act like you want to be my friend and protector.” His eyes widen. He must not have thought it was obvious. “Yes, I got a strong protective vibe from you all month. But then, tonight, you act like you hate me and you’re pissed that we work at the same place. Which, by the way, I knew nothing about.” He tries to interrupt me but I put my hand up, stopping his words. “And just now, you held me like you never wanted to let go. Don’t get me wrong, part of me didn’t want you to—” I stop, feeling my face heat with embarrassment. Did that really just leave my mouth? He looks like I just kicked him in the balls.
“Look, I just—” he starts, but I stop him. I don’t want to hear him reject me. I have no idea what kind of game he’s playing or why he’s messing with me, but it stops here.
“No, you look. If you want to be friends…fine, I can do that. If you want to just be neighbors and coworkers, that’s fine, too. Those are the only choices. There can’t and won’t be anything else between us,” I state, thinking that will be the end of it.
“Are you saying you didn’t feel anything from me being so close to you? You seemed to at least be a little turned on,” he says as he moves closer to me. Knowing I have very little control over myself when it comes to him, I step back. He closes in on me, until my back is against the row of lockers. Putting my hands on his chest to stop him from coming any closer, my mind scrambles for what to say. My damn body is going to contradict any protesting my mouth does. My rapid breathing and dilated pupils probably give away my attraction to him. I’m so glad he has no idea about the wetness he’s causing to pool between my legs.
“Not for the reason you think. You’re a very attractive man, but of course you already know that.” He shrugs his shoulders and smiles. He’s still too close. His hot breath pulses against my lips with every exhale, hindering my ability to think. Pushing on his chest, I’m able to create some distance between us. “It’s been a really long time since I’ve been with a man. To be completely honest...I’m just horny. At this point, if the wind blows the wrong way, I get turned on. Don’t let it go to your head. I just need to get laid. It’s that simple.” Again, he has that cocky smirk on his face, as if he’s the perfect man to give me what I need. As much as I want him to be, it’s not a good idea. “With us being neighbors and working together, I don’t think you’re the right man for the job.” Slowly, he nods his head. Disappointment is clear on his face, but it’s quickly covered with his cockiness.