My heart thunders in my chest. I can hear it, as if the gentle press of her fingers against my skin reminded me that I’m still here.
I’m still here.
“Emmy—,”
“Marsters!”
She spins at the sound of her bellowed name, her eyes searching the bar. A wide-set guy in his fifties with a broom in his hand gestures at her. “Get over here!”
“I’m coming!”
She turns, peeking at me over her shoulder with that color still in her cheeks. Her lips tilt up. “Thanks, Ben Bennett.”
“Wait.”
She pauses as I slide off the top of the booth, shoving my hands into my pockets. “I’ll help you clean up.”
The bar is a mess. Broken glass is everywhere, chairs toppled over. The last of the drunken punters are heading through the door, herded by an exasperated looking firefighter. My feet are sticking to the vinyl floor thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol tossed everywhere.
She glances up at me. “I’m sure you have better things to do—,”
“I don’t.” I interrupt her. My heart is still pounding, still beating in my chest.
It’s the truth. I have nothing else to do.
Nothing I’d rather do.
So I follow Emmy Marsters across the bar, introducing myself to her ass of a boss who stares at me with suspicious beady eyes before he takes my offer of free clean-up and almost flings the broom at me, storming over to argue with the firefighters at the door.
Emmy ducks behind the bar, heading over to an older blond woman and checking on her. The woman looks tired, but her smile is devilish as she glances between me and Emmy. “Who’s this?”
“Ben.” I hold out my hand to introduce myself. “Ben Bennett.”
Breaking all the rules tonight, asshole.
“I’m Carla.” Her grin grows. “Where you been hiding this one, Emmy? He’scute.”
“Carla,” she hisses. A grin tugs at my mouth as she shakes her head. “He’s just a… a friend.”
Blue eyes flicker to mine and away.
A friend.
I like the sound of that more than I should.
3
Emmy
“Cheese and rice, Emilia,” Carla hisses. “Go over there and talk to him!”
I’m about to chew through my whole lip as I shake my head furiously, hissing right back at her. “He’s just helping out.”
We’ve been here for hours, and Ben hasn’t left. He’s just… here.Helping.
And I can barely get a thing done.
I can’t help stopping to watch as he bends over to pick up the broken pieces of a stool. The muscles in his back shift beneath his tee. Carla whistles beside me. “He can help me out anytime.”
