Page 6 of Timelessly Ours
“Hey, Angel,” I say seductively, shifting my gaze to her. “You wouldn't happen to know why your boyfriend is so concerned with you both leaving if I’m closing, would you?”
“Um... to see if you needed a ride.” It’s almost a question as she glances at Jace for help.
Coach shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.
I glare at her and she squirms under pressure. Jace pushes her aside and stands in front of her protectively.
I roll my eyes dramatically. “Oh please hotshot, your girl’s safer with me than anyone so take your heroicness someplace else.”
Jace’s jaw tightens but he bites back a comment. Especially since Angel squeezes his forearm.
But I still need answers. And I have a sick feeling I know what’s going on.
“Hey bestie, maybe you can solve a little puzzle for me. Any particular reason why one of you always seem to stick around when I'm supposed to be closing alone?”
Jace and Angel exchange a lingering look. But Coach keeps a fixed gaze on me,
“Fine, then. Let’s play a game.” I set a rocks glass in front of me, but I don’t fill it with ice. Instead, I pull a vodka bottle off the shelf and hold them side by side.
“I’m going to have a drink. I’ll stop pouring when one of you starts talking—you with me?”
Angel looks nervous. Jace looks mad and Coach—well, his usual scowl is firmly in place, fixated on the contents in my hands.
“I pour on the count of three. The longer you wait, the more I pour.”
“Three…two…one.” I flip the bottle over. A drop barely falls to my glass before Angel breaks.
“We’re babysitting you,” she cries out.
Jace’s head snaps to his girlfriend. “Really?”
I set the bottle down and toss the bluff juice in the sink behind me. “Tell me more.”
“I’m so sorry. We’ve been taking turns…watching you here until you close, just…making sure you don’t…that you’re alright.”
“Babysitting,” I repeat, my vision turning hazy, a ball of fire forming in my chest.
“Please don’t hate us,” she whispers.
“Who’s idea?” I demand.
She blinks. “Mine.”
I cock my head at her, adoringly. “Angel,” I start. “Have I taught you nothing?” I lean toward her. “Always look a person in the eye when you lie to them.”
I untie my apron.
“Nicole,” Jace starts…almost as a warning. For someone who raised the sweetest young woman I know—his kid sister, Cora—Jace has zero skill when it comes to sweet talking.
Abandoning my shift, I race out, tossing my apron at Hank, the owner.“I've got to go,” I mutter.
Less than a minute later, I’m pulling out of the back lot in my car—a used sedan I managed to buy in the first few months of working at Bridges.
I don’t want to go to my apartment. I don't want to be alone.
They were all in on it. All of them.
It’s dark, but I know my way. I don’t rationalize. I don’t tell myself this is a bad idea. Okay, maybe I do. But it’s immediately followed by a “fuck them all” under my breath. Bring on all the bad ideas.