He leans in. “And what if I told you that getting your number would be what's right for me?”
Somewhere in back of me, someone clears their throat. “I would say that what's right for me...is punching you in the face for hitting on my girl.”
My customer quickly leaves after that.
I roll my eyes and look up at my friend. “What the hell, Shane?” I nod my head in the direction of the cute musician who hasn't stopped looking at Shane since his shift started. “Your boyfriend is sitting right over there watching you.”
He flips a bottle in the air. “I know. I'm wearing the jeans that make my ass look great.” He begins filling the glass in front of him. “I thought I'd run interference. Besides, I said my girl. Not girlfriend. If he was really interested in you for more than one night, he would have clarified.” He shrugs. “Guy looked like a douche anyway.”
I shake my head. “You're crazy.”
He purses his lips. “Yeah, but you love me.”
I smile because I can honestly say that I do. Shane gave me a job when no one else would. Not only did he hire me, but he also lets me rent the apartment upstairs from the bar.
And when I had a full blown panic attack over possibly being recognized that first night...he wiped my tears away and suggested we dye my hair. He didn't judge me when I told him about the video and he never uses my real name around customers.
I toss my long dark hair over my shoulder and kiss his cheek. “Call me if it gets packed. You know where I'll be.”
He laughs. “It won't now that you're off the clock. But I'll call you anyway.”
I walk around the bar and head upstairs to my studio apartment.
A lot has changed over the last three months.
For starters...I no longer visit the city. I live here now. I moved out of my father's house two weeks after the last night I saw Ford.
I used the money I got from selling Ford's BMW which was apparently equipped with a hidden gps tracking device to help me move.
That's how he knew I spent the night at Jackson's.
Jackson.
I have to close my eyes at the thought of him.
I went out to my car the next day and found my purse along with the necklace he got for me. I also dug my phone out and wept while I read all of his text messages.
I didn't even think about it, I hopped in my car and went straight to his apartment.
Where he proceeded to ignore me for hours upon hours.
So, I left and came back the next day.
Only to face an angry Tyrone.
He didn't want to speak to me...but after he saw the state I was in...he relented a little. He said that Jackson wouldn't go into much detail about it, but that he saw me with some other guy at my house.
Apparently, he came to my house to talk to me that night and showed up just as Ford got down on his knees and I was screaming that I loved him. He left shortly after that and never looked back.
I never thought it was possible to hate Ford more. But, I really only had myself to blame. I should have been honest with Jackson and I should have kicked Ford out of my life a long time ago.
I told Tyrone...well, it was more like begged Tyrone to talk to Jackson for me and set him straight.
I told Tyrone to tell him that what he saw between Ford and I wasn't what he thought it was.
The verdict?
It didn't matter. Jackson was done with me.
I still wasn't done with him yet, so I made one final attempt.
This time, it was Jackson himself who answered the door. He never let me get a word in, but I'll never forget what he said- “I'm all out of fucks to give. Maybe Ford can give you a few.”
Then he slammed the door in my face and locked it.
Yup...I hurt him that much.
And I never, ever got a chance to apologize to him or explain what happened.
I tried for two weeks straight to make things right. But the same thing happened every time. Tyrone would come out and tell me to go home. Nothing was going to change.
It got to the point where even freakin' Lou-Lou was looking at me with pity whenever she saw me in the apartment lobby.
I didn't want to, but I had to let him go.
I can only hope, that our paths will cross again one day.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jackson
“I love you, sugarplum.”
Ricardo and I exchange a glance.
“I promise I'll call you later, sugarplum,” Tyrone continues. “I've missed you so much. I can't wait to see you, sugarplum.”
“So help me god, if he says sugarplum one more time,” Ricardo says under his breath.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and lean forward. I don't know how much more of this sugarplum shit I can take.
I'm about ready to hand over my balls just so he can feel what it's like to have a pair again.
Is this what I would have turned into if things hadn't gone sour with Alyssa?
Nope. Not going there.
Five more sugarplum's and three ‘I love you's’ later, Tyrone finally gets off the phone.
He turns around and makes a face at Ricardo and I. He's been doing that a lot lately.
Ricardo and I exchange another glance because we both know what's coming, and neither of us are up for it.
“Guys,” he starts. “Y'all could be just as happy as I am if you would both stop being so stubborn.”
I grunt and Ricardo reaches for his beer.
He points to Ricardo first. “You going out and screwing anything in a skirt night after night isn't helping you. You need to walk down the hall and talk to Lou-Lou. I don't care what you say, man...she meant more to you than you're letting on.”
His eyes swivel to me. “And you. You haven't been the same since that night you went to Alyssa's house.”
My entire body stiffens at the sound of her name.
“You've changed, Jackson. You're always in a bad mood these days. All you do is work out and go to the fight club.”
I shrug. “That's always what I've done, Tyrone.”
He tsks at me. “No. You're different. Even angrier. Like the entire world is your own personal fighting cage now.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I don't think you gave her the benefit of the doubt. I don't understand why you don't just call her up and let—”
“Enough,” I warn.
There's absolutely no reason to call her. Why? So she can just lie to me about Ford again. Make me start falling for her and turn myself inside out.
Been there done that.
I rub my temples...trying to push my other thoughts away.
Thoughts like—What if there is more to the story? What if she's truly sorry for what she did?
Or worst of all? What if I let myself forgive her?
Then I'll be right back where I started.
Having no choice but to lie to her about working at DeLuca's club and my reason for working there in the first place.
And when she finds out, she'll leave me anyway and it will hurt worse.
No, I'd much rather let my anger and venom for her stew. Let it turn me into a cold, heartless bastard.
He blows out a breath and looks at the both of us. “I'm tired of this, y'all. So, here's what we're gonna do. We're going to talk about it.”