A throat clearing snaps me out of it. “I expect you to watch out for my little sis, bro,” Ryan says. “If anything happens to her, and I mean, anything, with anyone, I’m holding you responsible.”
“Ryan!” I hiss. “Cut that shit out. I can look after myself.”
“Nothing will happen to Belle while I’m around, so stop being an ass. You know you don’t even have to go there.”
“Don’t I?” Ryan cocks his head to the side, eyeballing Slater intensely.
Slater looks seriously pissed, and the boys drill piercing stares at one another as Myndi and I look between them, wondering what the hell is going on.
“Cool, brother.” Ryan nods. “Once you understand the score.”
“I got it,” Slater snaps before spinning on his heel and stalking back to the bar.
I slap Ryan in the chest. “What is with you?”
“Just looking out for you.”
“You remember our conversation earlier? That goes for you, Caleb, and Dean too. You all have to stop jumping in to protect me. You need to let me handle this, and, quite frankly, I’m pissed that everyone seems to think I can’t deal by myself.”
Ryan straightens up, pulling at the collar of his shirt. “It’s not the same thing.”
“No?”
He scratches the back of his head, looking contemplative. “No, it’s not. I’m just trying to protect you, not control your every move and thought.”
“Now you’re being mean. That’s not what Dylan does.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry, and I don’t want to fight. Not when we should be celebrating your new job and newfound independence.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Myndi says, offering up her glass.
I leave at five p.m. the following day with Slater for my first shift. “Are you nervous?” he asks, as he drives us to the club.
“What gave me away?” I laugh, trying to rein in the butterflies running amok in my chest.
“Oh, I don’t know.” He glances over at me, grinning. “It could be the way you haven’t stopped jerking your knee, or the way you’re knotting your hands in your lap, or the worry etched on your gorgeous face.”
“You think my face is gorgeous?” I blurt, instantly wanting to find a hole to crawl into.
“Abso-fucking-lutely, and don’t pretend like you don’t know it. You’d have to be blind to not see how every head turns when you walk into a room.”
Now I stare at him like he’s just sprouted horns out of his head. “That is such an exaggeration. I know I’m pretty, but I’m hardly in that kind of league.”
He mutters under his breath before swinging his SUV into an empty spot outside the club. When he cuts the engine, he turns to face me. Cautiously, he reaches out, cupping my cheek. “And that’s exactly what I’m talking about.” His warm breath oozes over my face, raising goose bumps along my bare arms. “The most beautiful women are those who are completely unaware of the power they possess. Those who don’t fake it or obsess over their looks. Those who just are. Women whose inner beauty outshines what’s on the outside.”
“Like your mom,” I say, conjuring up an image of her gorgeous dark features and remembering her selfless heart. She sacrificed so much for her son, and it was that innate goodness that shone through, overriding her natural beauty.
“Like Mom.” He rubs his thumb across my cheek. “Like you,” he adds, staring at me with glassy eyes. My pulse thuds wildly in my neck as he continues to stare at me, peering deep into my eyes, and something shifts in the space between us. His thumb continues caressing my cheek, and a new layer of butterflies scatters in my chest. The longer he looks at me and the more he touches me, the more conflicted he looks and the more confused I feel.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers after a couple tense minutes. When he moves his face in closer to mine, my heart races a hundred miles an hour as if it’s about to take flight from my chest. My mouth is dry and my panties the complete opposite. “And so inherently good.” His eyes lower to my mouth, and I think I’ve actually stopped breathing.
Is he thinking about kissing me?
And why is that getting me all worked up?
A loud rap on the window breaks us apart, ruining the moment. Startled, I jump, and my heart does crazy loops behind my rib cage. Slater lowers his window halfway down. “Hey, Shel.”
A pretty girl I recognize beams at Slater. She’s the girl who was draped around him a couple weeks ago when we were at the club celebrating Myndi’s birthday. I’d noticed her while I was out on the dance floor. She smiles adoringly at him, like he’s the center of the entire universe, purposely ignoring me. “You coming in?”
“Sure.” Slater presses his back into the seat, angling his head in my direction. “Shelby, meet Gabby. She’s starting tonight.”
If looks could kill, I’d be ten feet under with the heated glare she sends my way. But she hides it well, disguising the venomous expression before Slater notices. “Sweet. Nice to meet you.”
“Thanks, and same here,” I coolly reply, wondering what her beef is with me. It’s not like I even know the girl, but I’ve seen her sniffing around Slater on more than a couple of occasions, and I know her type.
We walk into the venue together, and Slater leads me to the staff area. It’s a large square room with a bunch of comfy couches, a long rectangular dining table and accompanying benches, and two doors off to the side. “Here.” Slater hands me a shirt. “This should fit.” He appraises first me and then the shirt. “Boss likes ’em on the tight side,” he semi-apologizes, and I shrug.
“It’s no biggie.”
I follow friendly Shelby into the female changing room and proceed to get changed. She ignores me, and I don’t feel inclined to strike up a conversation either, so I do my best to forget she exists.
Shucking out of my jeans and shirt, I pull on the denim cut-offs I brought with me and slip the branded T-shirt over my head. It’s a very snug fit. The material clings to my generous D-cup breasts and stops short of my waist, showcasing a wide strip of my stomach. I have a feeling Ryan is going to blow a fuse when he gets a look at me, but he’ll just have to deal. This is the standard uniform for all female waiting staff, so he shouldn’t be too surprised.
Stuffing my clothes in my bag, I scoop my hair back off my face, smoothing it into a neat ponytail.
“A word of advice,” Shelby says, suddenly cutting through the quiet room. “Stay away from Slater.” I turn to face her. “He’s mine.”
Keeping my spine straight, I hold my nerve as we face off. “I don’t know what you think you know, but it’s not like that. Slate’s one of my best friends, and I have a boyfriend.”
She snorts. “You might want to have a word with your boyfriend about that.”
My heckles are instantly raised. “What do you mean by that?”
“I don’t think he got the memo,” she says in a condescending tone, and a now-familiar anxious feeling floods my chest, constricting my air supply. I haven’t heard from Dylan the last three days, but I had texted him earlier asking if we could meet tomorrow to talk, and he had responded enthusiastically. Not for the first time, I wonder what exactly he’s been doing during our separation.
My mind is deviating in all different directions now, and that fluttery panicky feeling has overtaken me again. I’ve worked so hard to keep a logical head these past twelve days, and now I’m spiraling into a downward circle. Shelby smirks, as if she knows where my head has gone, and that helps me regain control. I’m not going to allow some spiteful bitch to plant ideas in my head.
Ignoring her, I push out into the main staff area where Slater is waiting for me. “What’s wrong?” He immediately notices my altered expression.
“Nothing.” I force a wide smile on my face. “Just nervous.”
He eyeballs Shelby circumspectly when she reappears in the room. “There�
�s no need to be nervous, Belle.” He rubs a hand up and down my back. “I’ll be training you, and I’ve made sure I’m working every night you’re scheduled for the rest of the month.” I can almost feel the daggers embedding in my back.
I stick by Slater’s side as he shows me how to work the register and explains how things operate out on the floor. The club is actually more of a bar-slash-club, opening at five daily for happy hour and food and then it offers customers late-night drinks and dancing. Slater talks me through the different menus, clarifying how to process orders for food and drink. I shadow him as he serves drinks behind the bar, watching how he expertly juggles a multitude of different orders at once. Then he sends me out on the floor with another waitress—thankfully Emma is much friendlier than Shelby—and I watch her take orders on a couple tables before venturing on my own.
The club is already busy even though it’s still early. Before I know it, a couple more hours have passed, and I’m delighted that I’m comfortably holding my own. While I’ve never worked in a bar or club before, the experience I had from the diner when I was fifteen is coming in handy.
A few guys are a bit handsy, but I’m able to deal with them, and it helps to know Slater has my back. Every time I look around, I instantly meet his eyes, like he’s perfectly attuned to my presence.
“Here,” Shelby says, roughly shoving a tray at me. “It’s time for my break. Serve this to table fourteen.”
She walks away without waiting for my response, and I flip my finger up at her retreating form. “Very naughty, Belle,” Slater whispers in my ear as he makes his way back to the bar, chuckling.
I’m still smiling as I walk to the table to distribute the drinks, but it doesn’t last long. My legs turn weak and my hands turn to butter when I spot Dylan sitting at an adjoining table with Bianca straddling his lap. He doesn’t notice me because he’s too busy devouring her mouth and groping her ass.
The tray crashes to the floor, glass shattering and splintering as drinks go flying everywhere.
Tears spill down my cheeks as Dylan finally notices me, tearing his mouth away from Bianca’s at the sound of the commotion.
The look of horror on his face is almost comical. Hurriedly, he shoves Bianca off his lap, sliding out of the booth and calling my name.
But I don’t wait to hear what he has to say, spinning around and elbowing my way through the crowd.
Chapter Sixteen
I don’t get very far, running headfirst into a solid wall of muscle. Slater’s arms don’t hesitate, and he wraps me up in his embrace. “It’s okay, Belle. I got you.”
“Please, Slate. Get me out of here. I can’t talk to him.”
“Get your sleazy hands off my girlfriend!” Dylan demands from behind me, and I hug Slater tighter, squeezing my eyes shut, not wanting to look into the face of the man I thought represented my forever.
“I hardly think you’re in a position to make demands,” Slater growls, tightening his grip on me.
“Gabby, please, talk to me,” Dylan pleads.
Sniffling, I pull my big girl panties on and turn around to face him, keeping Slater’s arms around me for support. I hastily swipe at my damp eyes, determined to hang on to my dignity. In the background, I spot Emma and another waitress cleaning up the mess I made.
It hurts looking at Dylan.
It hurts so damn much.
Especially when that bitch Bianca circles her arm around his waist from behind. Dylan shucks her off, shouting at her to leave. She shoots me a filthy look as she skulks back to the table, like this is all my fault. “Gabby, I’m sorry, but I’ve been missing you so much and—”
Slater snorts, cutting Dylan off. Dylan’s hands ball into fists at his side, and he glares at Slater like he wishes he’d drop off the face of the Earth. “Fuck off, asshole. This is nothing to do with you,” Dylan spits out, jabbing his finger in the air. He’s slurring his words, and his eyes are unfocused, his pupils darting all over the place. I’m wondering if he took something other than alcohol, but that’d be so out of character for him.
“The hell it isn’t. Just give me an excuse, dickhead. I’m primed and ready for round two.” The challenge is evident in Slater’s glacial tone and expression.
“Don’t,” I say quietly, looking up at him. “Don’t fight him. I don’t want you getting into any more trouble.”
This time it’s Dylan’s turn to snort in disbelief. “Him? What about me?”
“What about you?” I shout, swallowing the lump of betrayal clogging my throat.
“You fuck off for two weeks,” he slurs, swaying on his feet. “To live with him!” His nostrils flare. “You won’t answer any of my texts or calls, and now you’re taking his side?”
Anger sluices through my veins, and I wriggle out of Slater’s embrace. I put my face in Dylan’s, wondering how a face I love so much can now look so hateful. “Firstly, I moved out to give you time to think about our relationship. I didn’t ‘fuck off.’ I asked you to give me some space because I was hurting. Your actions hurt me, you fucker!”
I jab my finger in his chest. “But you couldn’t even do that.” A layer of calm determination washes over me, masking the multitude of emotions I’m feeling under the surface. “I’ll make this really easy for you now. We are done. Finished for good. I never thought you’d be capable of such deception, but it just goes to prove how little I really know you.” Tears prick my eyes, but I manage to keep them at bay. “I’ll stop by the condo tomorrow to pick up the rest of my stuff. I’ll drop my key on the counter before I leave.”
“No, Gabby. No.” He grabs my arm, digging his fingers into my flesh. “You’re not leaving me. I won’t allow it.”
“You don’t have a say anymore. I’m done with this bullshit. I loved you, Dylan. I loved you so completely, but I love myself more, and I’m not going to stay with someone who cheats behind my back, who says one thing and does the other. I don’t even want to be your friend. I want nothing to do with you going forward. Don’t wait for me after class. Don’t call or text. And don’t come here expecting me to speak to you. As of now, you are dead to me. Now get your fucking hand off me.”
When he doesn’t move a muscle, Slater takes his arm, pushing him away and gathering me safely under the crook of his arm. A couple of bouncers materialize at his side. “Throw him out,” Slater instructs them, pointing at Dylan. “And the whore too.” He jerks his head at Bianca who has wheedled her way back to Dylan’s side. “And tell all the guys at the door they are both banned.”
“Fuck you!” Dylan hisses at Slater before turning his venom on me. “And fuck you too! You cunts deserve one another.” One of the bouncers takes Dylan by the elbow, dragging him toward the exit. “Bianca is worth ten of you, Dimples. And she loves it up the ass!” he hollers, ensuring no one in the vicinity misses it. Lancing pain attacks me on all sides, and despite my conviction, tears spill out of my eyes, rolling down my face.
Dylan has just laid bare the true extent of his betrayal, and I’m destroyed. Huge, wracking sobs erupt from my mouth, and Slater pulls me back into his arms, whispering assurances in my ear as I fall apart. He pulls us over to a quiet corner, away from prying eyes. Dylan is cursing and shouting as he’s hauled outside, and I’m grateful the music is playing, drowning out most of his insults.
When I lift my head up, a few minutes later, Shelby’s spiteful smile is the first thing I see. “You did that on purpose,” I say, pulling myself together.
She fakes a look of concern. “I tried to warn you earlier, and you wouldn’t listen. You needed to see for yourself. That’s not the first time they’ve been in here.”
“Stop stirring shit,” Slater reprimands. “That’s the first time I’ve seen him in here with her,” he tells me, looking deep into my eyes. “If it wasn’t, you would’ve heard about it.”
“They usually come in when you’re not around. You
weren’t supposed to be working tonight, remember?” Shelby says. “But you switched your shifts around to accommodate her.” She spits the word out like it physically pains her to say it.
“Yeah, and I’ll be doing the same going forward.” Slater pins Shelby with a dark look. “Stay out of this, Shel. It doesn’t concern you, and if I find out you’d anything to do with them being here tonight, you can kiss your job goodbye.”
Shelby harrumphs, shrugging. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” She slinks up to him, not making any effort to lower her voice. “You’re not the only one I’m fucking around here.”
“Get lost, Shel.” Slater’s aggravation is crystal clear. “And stay the hell away from me and Belle.”
Shelby snarls at me before flouncing away, flipping us the finger as she goes.
“I’m not sleeping with her,” Slater rushes to confirm, rubbing the back of his neck and looking awkward as hell. “It was one time, a while back.”
I shuck out of his arms. “None of my business what you do to whom, and I better get back to work. You can dock my pay for the drinks.” I attempt to shuffle off, to help the girls who are still cleaning up the floor, when Slater takes my arm, stalling me.
“You don’t have to stay. I’ll square it with the boss man, and I’ll take my break early to drop you home.”
I fold my arms across my chest and shake my head. “No way. I’m not going home on my first night. I’ll finish my shift.”
“Belle.”
“No.” I fix him with a resolved expression. “I’m finishing my shift, and then you can drive me home.”
I have zero clue how I manage to temporarily paper over the cracks in my heart and complete my shift, but I do. I even manage to deflect the ever-growing line of handsy guys trying to cop a feel. When you’re dating someone who’s a minor celebrity on campus, it seems everyone knows the exact moment when you’re back on the market again. Slater spends half his night throwing lecherous assholes out of the club for hitting on me.
We don’t talk as he drives home. I close my eyes, resting my head against the window, hoping that my physical exhaustion will mean I can sleep, because I so need to crawl into bed and forget this night ever happened.
When Forever Changes Page 12