“Nah, I’ll meet you there. I want to get a workout in tonight. Plus, I have to call the other applicants and tell them the position has been filled.”
“All right, see ya there.”
Tonight is no different than any other typical Friday night at Country Road – crowded, loud, and full of good-looking people. Large groups take up the back part of the room while the stage that hosts live music sits empty and modern country music blasts through the speakers. It’s been good to hang out with my buddies and even talk to a few old friends I don’t see very often.
Imagine my surprise when I got here earlier and Ashton wasn’t behind the bar. Not having a plan, I figured if I could catch her at work; she’d be forced to talk to me and allow me the opportunity to fix everything.
I need to apologize for making her feel cheap and for losing my mind for a minute in that dressing room. Instead, Ashton wasn’t behind the bar. In her place, was a tall dark-haired beauty I hadn’t met yet. After Taylor introduced me to Lexie, she told me that Ashton called her about an hour before to ask her to cover the shift. Grateful for the extra shifts, she didn’t question why Ashton couldn’t work.
Turns out, Owen’s assessment of Lexie’s sexual preference was spot on and she’s trying to save enough money to visit her girlfriend, who is studying fashion in Paris. I don’t think I’ll share that tidbit of information with the guys. Watching Landon attempting to get Lexie’s attention and notice him as more than just a customer at the bar is far too entertaining. I only hope I’m around when she finally tells him about the girlfriend.
Instead of ordering a beer like usual, I opt for a Coke instead. Remembering last Halloween when Piper drank regular soda and passed it off like a cocktail, I think I’ll do the same. I need to have my wits about me when I confront Ashton. Because, I’m going to confront Ashton.
After an hour of nursing this watered-down Coke, I send a quick text to Ben.
Me: What are you guys up to?
Minutes pass with no response.
Ben: Just hanging out, Piper doesn’t feel good. We’re watching a movie in bed.
Me: Tell her to feel better. I’ll catch you next week. Maybe some fishing?
Ben: Sounds good.
If they’re hanging out at home and already in bed, that means Ashton isn’t with them. If she’s not at home, not at work, and not with Piper, then I know exactly where she is. Contemplating my options, I know there is only one.
“All right, assholes, I’m outta here.”
“Where are you going? You’ve been here like an hour.”
“Landon, will you please tell our friend here he doesn’t need me around. I mean, if you guys are looking to meet someone, it’s probably best I’m not around taking all the attention anyway.”
“Whatever. Landon, will you tell our friend he’s an ego maniac?”
“You two having a lover’s quarrel? Keep me out of your drama. I’m going to get a beer from Lexie. Maybe this time she’ll offer me more than a smile.”
“Good luck with that, man,” I say, smacking him on the shoulder and laughing as I walk away.
Climbing in my truck, I remember I have two choices. I can go home and wait for Ashton to get home. Or I can drive an hour and find out what the hell she’s doing. Why would she leave one job for another? Unless it isn’t a second job at all.
That idea doesn’t sit well with me because it means she’s not alone.
The entire drive to Doris’s Tavern I try to come up with every possible scenario for what I may find when I get there. None of them are positive and none end with her simply forgiving me for the bridal shop. I just need to clear my conscience and put this week behind me. A clear head and all that.
The tension I’ve been feeling all week increases tenfold the moment I spy her car in the parking lot of Doris’s Tavern. The parking lot is packed so I’m forced to park my truck at the far end of the lot. A couple stumbles out of the door, laughing, as I approach. Nodding in greeting, I hold the door open for them.
The moment I step in to the bar, I look around to see if Ashton is behind the bar or waiting tables. It takes me a few passes around the room before I spot her. Sitting at the end of the bar, she’s talking to a woman with wild red hair and a bright-green shirt on. Laughing her true laugh, the one where she throws her head back unabashedly, Ashton looks happy. Carefree. Like herself.
A few ladies turn their attention to me but I simply smile in response. The only person I want to talk to here is sitting at the bar. I take a few steps in her direction as sounds of someone singing karaoke fills the room and something wet hits me in the face. Looking down, I see that someone has dropped a glass on the floor, shattering it in a thousand pieces with the contents landing on me. Accepting the apologies of a nice lady in a sparkly top, I bend down to help her with the larger pieces of glass. My conversation with Ashton can wait a few more minutes.
No, no, no.
He’s not here. There’s no possible way that he found me. My eyes are playing tricks on me. My imagination is running wild. I avoided his questioning tonight. I avoided his text message an hour ago. There is no way Jameson found me here.
“You okay, sweets? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Wha … what?”
I feel Shelly’s hand on my shoulder, but it’s impossible for me to move. I’m frozen in place. Thankfully, a group of customers have stood to put their jackets on and are blocking me from Jameson’s view. I don’t realize I’m being moved until I hear a door close. Blinking rapidly, I take in the change in environment. I’m now standing in what must be the office slash supply closet. Wow, this place is a mess.
“Hey, drink this.” Drawing my attention, I look at Shelly, who is holding out a shot in one hand while holding a bottle of tequila in the other.
Shaking my head adamantly, I refuse her offer but to no avail. The shot is thrust in my hand as she pours herself one and clanks our glasses.
“I can’t, I have to drive,” I reply, setting the glass on the desk.
“Ashton, honey, I think you need that. You can stay with me and Mel if you need to but from the look on your face out there, I think your world is about to turn upside down. Take the shot.”
She has no idea how upside down my world is about to get. Picking up the little glass, I lift it to her direction in a toasting fashion. As the liquid hits my throat, the usual shiver I have with tequila shocks my body. Warmth takes over almost instantly and I feel myself relax. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to face Jameson and I most definitely don’t want to explain what I’m doing here.
“Better?”
I nod in response.
“So, are you going to tell me who that sexy man is?”
Shrugging in response, I sit down in the chair beside the desk while Shelly pours another shot. Might as well. Once we’ve both taken our second shot she puts the bottle in the desk drawer along with the shot glasses. I raise an eyebrow at her in response.
“What? Sometimes Mel and I like to have a drink together before we walk home. This business is exhausting.”
Laughing, I can’t disagree. Mel and Shelly know that I bartend at Country Road and that I understand how exhausting bar life can be. Picking up a habit I rid myself of as a teen, I nervously pick at my cuticle while ignoring Shelly’s original question. She allows me only a few minutes before she nudges my foot with hers and catches my attention.
With a large sigh, I realize I am going to have to tell her something.
“That man is Jameson Strauss.”
“I said sexy man. Come on, Ashton, you must admit that man is sex walking. I mean, even from across the bar I could see that and I’m not even wearing my glasses.”
“Fine, he’s sexy. Whatever. Anyway, he’s my brother’s best friend and owns the house I’m staying at since that tree fell on my bedroom.”
“Uh-huh. And?” Looking up at the ceiling instead of at her is not the right response. “Oh, I see. So, did you only hook up or
did you guys actually date?”
“What? How did … fine, once. We slept together once a long time ago. And then … umm, maybe a few times since I’ve been staying at his house.” A few times my ass.
“Look, I know you and Mel have talked about your issues with singing. Don’t look at me like that. He’s never betrayed your trust; he wouldn’t do that. He just worries about you, we both do.”
Relief replaces the horrified look on my face. The idea of Mel sharing my story with Shelly doesn’t bother me, it’s the idea of more people that I care about knowing. I’m afraid that eventually I won’t be able to sing here either. I know there is a possibility that getting close with Mel and Shelly while singing may be a trigger for my anxiety. It’s something that is always milling around in my head.
“You okay, Ashton?” Nodding, I realize I’m crying.
“Oh, honey, come on, don’t cry. My point was that I know you have stuff in your life that you are working through. Hell, we all do. But, I also know that the look on your face out there wasn’t related to your anxiety. I know that look, I’ve had that look. It’s the look of fear. Are you afraid of that man? Did Jameson hurt you?”
“What?” I screech out. “No! Oh, my God, no. But, yes.”
Confusion is all over Shelly’s face. Taking a deep breath, I realize I need to explain myself.
“Jameson hurt me in the worst possible way but it’s not his fault. We grew up together and he was always my brother’s best friend. And, yes, before you ask, he’s always been hot. And cocky as hell. Seriously. I don’t think you’ll find a more conceited person. But, then again, I suppose when you look like that there’s a reason for it.”
We both laugh because there couldn’t be more truth in a statement.
“Anyway, a few years ago, I was bummed out and pretty tipsy. I asked him to take care of me…”
“And he did,” Shelly teases and I blush.
“Hush, you. So, as I was saying, he let me stay at his house one night and stuff happened. Then he left.”
Shelly hands me a tissue, which I take and wipe my eyes. And blow my nose.
“What do you mean, he left? Like his own house?”
Nodding, I grab another tissue. I’ve never told anyone this part. Hell, I only just sort of acknowledged by omission, that we have had sex in the first place.
“Yeah. I woke up and he was gone. No Jameson. No note. No explanation. We’ve never talked about it.”
“Never?” I shake my head and sniffle.
“Oh, sweets, why not?”
Shrugging, I accept her hug. Oddly enough, I feel lighter now. Maybe I should have unloaded this secret a long time ago.
“I don’t know, we just never did. Then I moved in his house for what was supposed to be only a few weeks but has now turned into a lot longer. He was just always there. Half clothed. Salmon laddering or whatever and being all that.” I motion toward the door. “One thing and then another. Well, we both had gone a long time without any sex and so we made an agreement to sort of have a benefits option to our situation. It’s so stupid. I was so stupid.”
“Salmon what?”
“Salmon ladder? There’s a show and the actor, Stephen Ammel, he’s smokin’ hot. Anyway, he does this workout. You should Google it.”
“Got it, Google. Now, back to the good stuff. You have history, recent history. Why did you look like you were ready to run for your life?”
“Shel, nobody knows I come here or that I sing. It’s kind of my own personal time and having him here is like having all my worlds colliding. I can’t do it.”
“Then don’t. You don’t have to sing. Just go out there and hang out with us at the bar. Say hi to that sexy hottie like it’s no biggie. If Mel’s okay out there, I’ll walk you over to our place and get you settled.”
I blow my nose one more time and stand with determination. Shelly is right. I have every reason to be here and hanging out. Jameson is not my keeper. Hell, he’s barely my friend. Taking two steps toward the door, I stop with my hand on the knob. Just as I’m about to chicken out I feel Shelly’s hand on my shoulder again. It’s the push I need as I open the door.
The sounds of the bar and a less-than-spectacular rendition of “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” smack me right in the face. Why must people slaughter that poor song? If I know anything, it’s either a birthday or bachelorette party. I turn the corner and glance at the stage, yep. Birthday party. Except, instead of the usual group of twenty-somethings, it’s ladies closer to my mom’s age. I’m a little impressed.
Glancing back at Shelly, I nod in reassurance. We’re within a few steps of the bar when I see Mel look from me to Jameson, who is now standing at the bar talking to Mel.
“Ashton, this man says he knows you. What do you know about that?”
“Melvin, mind your own business. Go serve the customers at the end of the bar,” Shelly chastises. Hesitating briefly, Mel looks to me for confirmation it’s okay for him to leave. Nodding, I offer a smile in response.
“Hey,” I casually say as I hop up on a barstool. Shelly places a water in front of me, which I immediately reach for and take a sip of.
“Hey? That’s what you have to say?”
“Hey, Jameson? Is that better?”
Moments tick by without either of us speaking. We’re in a stand-off of sorts, Jameson looking at me like I’m supposed to offer up some sort of explanation. Which I will not. And I’m enjoying this glass of water as if it is the best damn drink ever. It might be because it’s keeping me from saying anything.
“God, you frustrate me.”
Shocked at his statement, I choked a little on my water. A napkin appears in front of my face, held by the person who just said I frustrate him.
“Excuse me?”
“You. You frustrate me.”
“What’s your problem? What are you even doing here, Jameson? Don’t you have a date to bring home or something? I figured since I told you our little arrangement was over you’d resume your previously scheduled routine. You’re slipping, pal.”
Silence is my response. Figures. I peer at him through my lashes and note his position. Elbows on the bar, hands in his hair, he doesn’t look cocky and full of himself. Instead, he looks frustrated, like he said.
“How long have you been coming here? Why are you so secretive about it?”
“Why? Why does it matter? Look, this overprotective big brother thing you’ve got going on is unnecessary. I have a big brother but newsflash, genius, I’m an adult. I can make decisions for myself, which include where I go for nights out, who my friends are, and who they aren’t. So really, it’s none of your damn business how long I’ve been coming here and it sure as shit isn’t any of your business if I have secrets!”
I feel rage taking over my body. My fingers are curled to the point that they feel like they may break. Shelly has made her way to our end of the bar and looks between us before I make eye contact. I know she’s trying to assess the situation. At this point, I don’t care. I’m pissed. Who does Jameson think he is? He’s not my father or my brother. He’s my brother’s friend who I’ve occasionally slept with. Okay, so maybe more than occasionally, but still. I should’ve known it couldn’t just go back to him doing me a favor by letting me stay at his house. At this point, I’d rather drain my bank account and move into my own place if this is what I get for accepting his generosity. And an invitation into his bed.
“Shel, do you think you can walk me over to your place now? I think I’m done here.”
“Sure, sweets. I’ll just let Mel know. Be right back.”
“What do you mean? Where are you going?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I had a few drinks and can’t drive now. Shelly and Mel live nearby and I’m going to stay over at their place.”
“No. I’ll take you home.”
“No thanks.”
“Ashton,” he says, dragging out my name.
“What? Look, just go home, Jameson. Or go
to Country Road and meet a girl. Knock yourself out, screw her on every surface in the house. I won’t be there, have fun.”
Turning on my heel, I make it three steps before his hand is on my arm. I stop instantly. Shivers run up my arm. Not creepy weirdo-induced shivers; no, these are the shivers I get any time this bastard touches me. I really need to have a talk with my hormones.
“I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m here. I just…” Releasing my arm, Jameson takes a deep breath and exhales before continuing, “Please let me take you home. You’ll feel better sleeping in your own bed. I can bring you back tomorrow or I’ll pay for a cab or whatever if you prefer. Ashton, come on.”
My back is still to him, so I can’t see the expression on his face, which is probably a good thing. The way his voice is vibrating through my body, setting each nerve on alert, is enough to tell me I should tell him no. I should stay with Mel and Shelly. I don’t.
Never facing him, I turn toward the bar. “I’m going to get a ride home. I’ll get my car tomorrow. Thanks again, Shel. Love you guys.”
“We love you too, honey. Be safe,” Shelly responds before whispering, “He really is even hotter up close.”
I grin and shake my head at her before walking out the door. I’m not even sure if he’s following, but I walk straight to Jameson’s truck. The lights flash as he unlocks it. Opening the door, I reach up and start to pull myself into the cab when his hands grab my waist and hoist me up. Short girl problems.
The mood in this truck is dark, the tension thick. The only sounds that fill the cab are those of our breathing and the low-playing music. Leaning my head on the window, I close my eyes and hate to admit that Jameson was right, my bed sounds perfect right now.
Once I finished helping the lady who dropped the glass with her cleanup and assuring her that I did not need a drink or anything else she was offering, I turned to where Ashton had been sitting. Instead of finding my dark-haired secret keeper, I found her seat vacant. Looking around the bar, I didn’t see her so I waited near her empty stool for the bartender to offer me a drink.
Tequila & Tailgates (A Country Road Novel - Book 2) Page 17