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“Don’t feel bad. I’m figuring it out.”
“Do you have any other places lined up?”
She hesitates, unsure. Yet again, I want to scrap my bar and make this all go away for her. “I’m going to check out a place in Joshua Tree next month that seems promising,” she finally says, quietly enough for only me to hear.
“Isn’t that an hour away?”
“Forty-five,” she hedges, “—ish. But the building looks incredible, and I could buy it, not just rent.”
MovingTurbinean hour away? To another city? Is she going to live there too?No. That can’t happen.“I’ll go with you to see it.”
“Would you really come?”
“Of course.” I may loathe the idea of her moving that far away, but I’m not making her continue this search without help.
She rounds the counter, squeezing her arms around me in a tight hug, and speaks into my chest, “This helps a lot. Thank you.”
~
Me: I love watching you through the glass.
Allie checks to make sure no one else has eyes on her and then shimmies her perky tits at me.
Allie: Really? I hadn’t noticed.
Me: You mean it had nothing to do with your skirts getting shorter over the last few months?
Allie: Don’t flatter yourself. It’s the heat.
But she tugs up the waist of her yellow skirt, making it that much shorter. I haven’t accomplished anything today; all I can think about is her taste on my lips. How wet and hot she was, pulsing around my fingers as she came. I’ve been half-hard all day.
Me: Want to get out of here?
Allie: I wish. But I already told my new barista he could leave early. Gotta close.
Me: Can I have you after?
Allie’s talking to a vacationing family, probably making up a detailed itinerary of the right things to do, like stop by the visitor’s center to see the architecture, and the ones to avoid like afternoon hikes, because it’s way too hot for that, before checking her phone. The wait is worth it. Her eyes go wide, cheeks flushing, as she looks for me.
Allie: Goddamn I hope you mean what I think you mean.
Me: I do.
Allie: Should have never let the new guy leave.
Me: We’ll make do.
Allie starts rushing through the familiar motions of her closing routine a half hour early. I try to focus on stripping the engine I’m rebuilding this week, but her flirtatious green, doe eyes and teasing little skirt won’t let me.
Me: Can I make a song request?
Allie: That sounds fun.
Me: Killing in the name
Allie: You think playing Rage will clear customers out? You’re underestimating how much people love punk.
Me: It was the first song I saw you dance to.
