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“Get out of here before I get in trouble,” she whisper-yells at me with a glare, giving me a soft shove before turning back to the bar.
“I’m not leaving you after that. I’ll be right here.” I take a seat on the empty bar stool, but she’s already walking away, ignoring me. I watch as she takes off on autopilot, finishing last call and cashing out people’s tabs.
I don’t even know what the fuck happened to Todd, but by the time I turn around to check, he’s gone. Thank fuck. I might have gone back for seconds if he was still within reach. I’ve never followed through on the primal need to punch someone in the face. Shit, my hand hurts. I shake it out, and Lexy catches it out of the corner of her eye. It looks like she’s about to say something, but her attention is drawn to somewhere behind me when she hears her name.
“Fuck,” she mutters, throwing the rag in her hand aggressively onto the bartop. She opens the folding hatch in the counter, letting it slam against the bar next to me. I watch her walk through a black door I didn’t notice until now. It blends in seamlessly with the wall.
Five minutes later she returns, storming back into the bar with fire in her eyes–not the kind I like to see. She scoops some ice into a clean rag and twists the ends together, tying it closed with the elastic she tugs from her hair. She tosses the homemade ice pack from five feet away, and it lands perfectly in front of me, sliding across the bartop. I catch it before it falls into my lap.
“I need you to leave.” There is restraint in her voice, like she wants to lash out but is holding back.
“What? Why?”
“Just go. Home. Or whatever. I don’t know, but you need to leave. If you don't, security will escort you out.”
What the fuck. I want to argue and figure out what the hell is happening, but it won’t do any good right now. With Lexy’s back turned to me as she does her closing work, I walk out the door, taking my ice pack with me. Fuck, that hurt.
LEXY
What a fucking night. I knew Todd crossing the line was bound to happen sooner or later, but I was too busy to see it coming tonight. My mind was so many other places it took me longer than it took Troy to punch him for me to understand what was happening. I didn’t even realize Troy was there, which is weird because I usually notice him right away. Then he just had to go and punch Todd, like I can’t handle myself, and ruin everything.
I dig my car key out of my front pocket and push the door open for the last time, leading me into the cold night air. The street lights glow in the alley where my car is parked and draw my attention to Troy leaning against the hood. “I thought I told you to go home,” I snap when I’m close enough he can hear me.
“Yeah, you did, but I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell that was about.” He’s angrier than I expected him to be, but that’s his fault.
“You’re not my boyfriend, Troy. It’s not your job to protect me.” If there were apartments nearby, the volume of my voice would definitely wake someone.
“So, I was just supposed to watch him put his hands on you?” Troy yells back, pushing off the hood of the car, bringing him closer to me.
I want to reach for him.
I almost sayno,but the words that come out of my mouth have their own agenda. “Yeah, that’s exactly what you were supposed to do.” I try to move past him, but he holds his arm out to block my path. He drops it when I turn to face him, blood rushing to my face with my anger. “I got reamed for letting my ‘boyfriend’ come in here and cause a scene.” I use air quotes so there’s no misunderstanding. “Then I got fired. Did you even think about how this was going to affect me?”
“Excuse me? I caused a scene?” His hands ball into tight fists at his sides before he releases them, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He sighs out a rough breath. “How is this my fault?”
“Todd was drunk, and he doesn’t know better. You do.”
“Wait.” His energy shifts as he reaches for my waist. “Did you just say you got fired?”
“Don’t touch me.” I’ll cave the second he does.
He’s hurt by the same words I also used with Todd, but he holds his hands up in surrender and takes a step back, no longer in the stream of light from the street lamp. “Seriously, Lexy. Did that dickbag fire you?”
“I just told you,” I huff.
His anger redirects. “What the fuck is that bullshit? You’re easily his best bartender.”
“It doesn’t fucking matter. Everyone is replaceable.”
He stares at me, like he knows I’m not just talking about work. “You’re not replaceable, Lexy. Let me talk to him. Please. I’ll fix it.”
“You can’t fix this, Troy. I had a good thing going. I needed this job. This is the one area of my life I had control over, and you took it away from me.”
“Fuck, Lexy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to compromise your job. I wasn’t thinking clearly, but I stand by my decision to defend you, and I won’t apologize for that.”
“You didn’t even think about the consequences of your actions, did you?”
The mixed energy around him battles for dominance–half of it refusing to believe his actions were wrong and the other half panicked that he fucked this up. “No. I didn’t. I’m having trouble compartmentalizing with you. You already mean too much to me.”
