25
Tiff
It was a fairly innocuous Thursday night when Jackson’s friend and co-star Wesley showed up at the bar.He’d been dropping by for months now, whenever he felt like it, occasionally flirting with strangers, but mostly just there to drink and annoy me.
He was harmless, though, and I could tell from the way his expression turned blank sometimes that he was holding back some pain, covering it up with that aloof bad boy attitude.
Too bad my bullshit meter was finely tuned.
“Oh, look, it’s you,” I said wryly, placing his usual beer in front of him.
“Hey!It’s my favorite bartender.”
“How’s it going, Wes?”
“How do you think?”He smirked, holding the beer to his lips, trying (and failing) to be seductive.I’m sure it worked for some women (ok, I’d seen it work on plenty of women), but cocky little shits just weren’t my type.
Not to mention, he had an almost permanent case of sad puppy eyes, and I’d learned a long time ago I didn’t want to “save” anyone.
“You really want to know what I think?”
He gave me a noncommittal shrug, but there was a hesitation in his eyes.I decided to take it a little easy on him.“I think you come here so you can forget about someone, but no matter how much you drink or joke or flirt, you’re only delaying the hurt.”
The façade drained away from his face, and he drowned half of his beer in one move, dropping it back onto the bar with a thud.“Well, fuck, Tiff.”
“Everything alright here?”Sam asked, suddenly appearing at my side.Obviously, he’d overheard Wes’ comment, but I couldn’t pick if it was Wes or me who he’d come over to check on.
Wes’ usual smile sprang back so fast that I got whiplash.Guess it paid to be an actor.“Oh, yeah, just having fun with my best gal.”
Sam looked between us.“You two know each other?”
“Unfortunately,” I deadpanned.
“Ok.Sorry.I’ll leave you to it then.”Sam took another customer’s order farther down the bar, leaving us alone again.
Wes nodded towards him.“He’s cute.”
I kept myself from looking over at Sam.“He’s a pain in my ass.Just like you.”
Wes’ canines showed when he smiled knowingly.“You don’t look like you mind it that much.”
“We’re …” How to phrase it?We were technically non-friends with benefits (ex-coworkers with benefits?), but we had agreed to keep things professional when working, and I didn’t need any of the barbacks overhearing me.“None of your goddamn business.”
He winked, the little shit.“Mum’s the word.”
I huffed a laugh, despite myself.“Shut up and drink your beer, mopey.Now, did you want to talk about it, or are you just here to get on my nerves?”
“Nah, it’ll just bore you.”
I dropped the sarcasm and placed a reassuring hand on his forearm.“Try me.”
I watched him chew on this for a moment, probably deciding how honest to be with me.He reminded me a lot of my brothers.It was probably why I could see through the fake bravado so well.
Avoiding my eye, he picked at a corner of the beer label.“Have you ever had someone get you in a way that no one else does?But not even just that, it’s like …” he took another swig of beer, “like they accept you, even though they see how fucked up you are?Like, the real you, even the parts you don’t like about yourself?”
Wow.Color me surprised.Puppy dog here had some depth.“Goddamn, Wes.Way to lay it on me.”
He gave another half-hearted shrug, looking like he regretted saying anything.God, from the look of him, I was probably the first person he’d ever said this to.
