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“Yeah, I know. Text the girl. She did look like your type. Although she looked way too smart for you, and she talks funny too—posh-like.” He seems to go off on a train of thought before going back to watching the TV.
I don’t bother pointing out that it’s not because she’s posh that she talks the way she does, but because of the part of England that she comes from. I text her, asking if she’ll come see me at the pub when I get back there. God knows when that will be—hopefully today, if not surely it has to be tomorrow. They can’t keep me in; I have a business to run.
“They need to let me out of here soon. I need to get back to work.” I look down at the leg soon to be put in a cast.
“How the fuck are you meant to tend a bar with a broken leg?” He voices the same question running through my head. The nurse said I won’t be able to bear weight on it and will need to be resting for the next few days, but isn’t that just a suggestion and not mandatory?
“I’ll figure it out, I just need to get out of here.” I don’t want to admit it, but I’m most likely going to need to call on some help and while I have a couple good mates, they’re all too busy to help me with the bar. Sabrina has gone to France for two weeks.
“I wouldn’t bother trying to rush, because they certainly ain’t gonna.” He drinks the dregs of his coffee. making a face at the taste. “If I were you, I would get onto that bird and tell her she needs to get her arse behind the bar tonight.” He looks at me out the side of his eye and waggles his eyebrows. “You never know, you might be able to go round two.”
I pick up the spare pillow next to me and whack him before he can get out of the way. I don’t want to encourage him, but hell no am I going to turn down round two if she wants it. A broken leg and rib are not going to get in the way of that.
Six
Rebecca
I’m so focused on writing that it takes me a few hours to check my phone and then I want to kick myself when I finally do. I missed his text. He wants me to go and help him bartend since I’m the culprit to his injuries that now mean he cannot work.
I can’t go and bartend for him. What if his sister finds out I am the one behind him getting hurt? I will lose this job! Although I guess I would have the bartending to fall back on for the rest of the week. Although the writing probably pays five times the amount I’d get from bartending for him. Regardless of the money, I can’t just ignore him. That could piss him off and make him tell his sister himself. What if he already has? I need to find out where I stand. So even though I should go and see him to get this settled, I don’t want to be surprised by walking into my client’s office tomorrow to find myself being fired. If that’s going to happen, I would like a heads-up.
I still have a considerable amount of words to write, so I pack up the laptop and take it with me just in case I can outline or take notes while I help him in the bar. My stomach is in knots the entire drive over to the pub, and it only gets worse when I see the pub is practically empty.
Tully is sitting on a barstool behind the bar, talking on his phone, oblivious to me when I walk in, accompanied by his friend that took him to the hospital. Obviously a very good friend of his to be doing everything for him.
“Hi…” I feel like slapping myself when my voice breaks out of nervousness. Am I seriously nervous around a guy whose face I sat on last night?
His head snaps up at the sound of my voice, and he looks weirdly happy to see me. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“I was writing… I didn’t see my phone. How are you?” I walk to the entrance of the bar, sending Marcus an awkward smile as I pass him to stand in front of Tully. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could undo running you over, as stupid as that sounds.”
He smirks in a way that is far too disarming considering we are practically strangers. “I will forgive you if you can help me out and make it up to me.” He winks and I feel it having the same effect on me as it did last night. “An explanation to how you ran me over would be cool too.” Oh dear Lord, I ran him over today! I cannot be lusting after him now. Although the cast on his leg doesn’t take away from the attraction.
“I have to work.” I turn to glance at Marcus. “Which I have discovered is for your sister… Any reason you didn’t mention that last night?” I avoid his question because I really want to avoid telling him that I was on my phone.
“I didn’t want to complicate the situation.” It is too blasé an answer.
I want to be mad at him. I want any guilt-free excuse to say no to helping him. I want to focus on the writing and get out of here before I can cause more trouble, but now, standing in front of him, I feel like I’d be missing out on a lot of fun if I do that. I thought last night had been alcohol fueled, but I can feel the same pull to be near him as I did last night and I’m completely sober. Whether I want to or not, I really like this guy. I’ve got feelings for a guy I barely know.
Marcus shuffles out the back, mumbling something about catching a smoke, leaving the two of us alone.
“Look, I’m not trying to use this to get into your knickers, although I certainly wouldn’t mind if that’s where it got me… Last night was un-fucking-believable but I genuinely can’t bartend with my leg like this, and I need a hand running the bar so while you’re in town, it would really help me out.”
“I can’t risk getting fired from this commission. I was lucky that the agency picked me for it because as far as writing jobs go, it’s up there as one of the best.” I feel myself leaning forward to get closer to him, completely contradicting what I’m saying which is basically I shouldn’t be around him.
“Why would helping me bartend result in you getting fired?” He puts his arm up to rest on the bar, his hand reaching out to trace lines on my arm. Goose bumps erupt and instantly I find myself craving more.
“If your sister finds out I slept with you and then ran you over, I don’t think she is going to be very happy with me, do you?” I can’t refrain from using sarcasm, but the anger behind it isn’t aimed at him but rather myself. I cocked this right up.
“My sister doesn’t need to find out. This might come as a shock, but my sister and I aren’t very close. We just work in relatively close proximity.” While I welcome that information, it doesn’t actually surprise me because they do seem like polar opposites. I can imagine her going out of her mind over what has happened meanwhile he doesn’t even seem to care that I’ve broken his bones. Does this guy have all his marbles?
“I want to help because I do really feel bad… I just can’t risk this commission so you need to promise me that she won’t find out and fire me over it.” I feel daft for making him promise like a child but it’s something I can use as an excuse to see him. Which only makes me feel even more stupid. I met him yesterday and I’m acting like a dog in heat.
“I promise.” His eyes twinkle. “So, do you mind hanging around to help me lock up?” His tone suggests more to it than just closing down the bar.
“I suppose.” I spin to survey what needs doing, not finding much left in the way of cleaning up. I find myself even closer to him, and suck in a breath when I feel his hand on the back of my leg underneath my behind.
“How long can you hang about for?” His eyes search mine and it’s obvious he craves me as much as I crave him. Would I be wrong to hook up with him again? This is a recipe for disaster. I like this guy too much after only one night. How am I going to be at the end of the week? This has an expiration date and I’m not good at casual things staying casual which is why I never usually hook up repeatedly with the same fella.
