Taking a few deep, calming breaths, I settled myself again, before swiping a rag from the counter and stepping out from behind the safety of the bar. “How long’s he been here?”
“Couple of hours.”
“Shit.”
Making my way over to where Nate sat, I could feel the tension radiating from him. He had a dirty baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, and a couple of days’ worth of stubble covering his jaw. The plaid shirt hung open over a grey t-shirt and I felt a tingle sweep through my body as I remembered the way the hard muscles of his chest felt beneath my fingers.
“Hey Nate,” I heard my voice tremble.
He didn’t look up. Instead he picked up his glass, swished the amber liquid around, the ice cubes clinking against the glass before he tossed it down in one mouthful. When he dropped the glass back on the table, he rubbed his hand across his face roughly and sighed.
“Need anything?”
It took a moment, but when he raised his eyes and looked at me from under the brim of his cap, I would have sworn my heart shattered. He looked worse than I felt, and that was saying something. His red-rimmed eyes physically caused me pain.
He stared straight through me. It was unnerving, like nothing I’d ever encountered before. “Nothing you can help me with,” he slurred.
Well, if that wasn’t a kick in the guts, nothing was. I wanted to call him out as an asshole. Not just for the way he dismissed me now, but for everything I’d been through over the last couple of weeks. I was more than aware that I was the one who’d run out in the rain, but it pissed me off he hadn’t even bothered to chase me. Not that night and not since.
“Okay then.”
I spun on my heel and stomped back to bar. He might have looked like shit, but that gave him no right to treat me like it. Damn, that guy got under my skin and pissed me off.
For the next two hours I busied myself behind the bar, restocking the spirits and swapping the keg. As much as I tried to ignore him while he sulked in the corner, when I wasn’t forcing myself to concentrate on anything else, my eyes drifted over and locked on him. I couldn’t help it. And I hated myself for it.
Another hour passed and he hadn’t moved. I’d seen Jenna fill a tumbler with bourbon and deliver it to him a couple of times, but not once did she ask me to…something I was extremely grateful for.
I was trying not to look. Really I was, but when he stumbled out of his chair, I found myself at his side, with my arm wrapped around his waist, holding him up.
“What are you doing?” I scolded him like he was a naughty child. He was lucky I didn’t smack his ass.
“Need to piss.”
“Charming. Come on.” I half carried, half dragged him towards the bathroom “Are you okay from here?”
Asshole didn’t answer me. Instead he rolled his eyes at me and pulled away, stepping through the bathroom door. I wanted to slap him up the side of the head, but somehow kept my hands buried in my pockets.
Ten minutes later I was still leaning against the door frame, picking my nails, waiting for him to re-emerge. When Jenna waved at me, I just called out across the bar. Another five minutes and I became worried. More worried than I should have been about a customer. Every excuse that my brain could dream up was buzzing about inside my head. A few more lonely moments and I couldn’t stand there a moment longer. I was going in.
Pushing open the door, I couldn’t believe what I saw. The man, the one I’d met, the one who’d put me on the back of his motorbike and shot off into the night, the man who came across full of arrogance, was slumped on the dirty floor, his head in his hands, hyperventilating. When he lifted his eyes and met mine, I felt like I’d been physically punched in the stomach. I started struggling for breath as I watched the undisturbed tears stream down his face.
“Nate?” I barely recognised my own voice as it cracked.
He never broke eye contact with me. Slowly and deliberately I moved towards him, taking anxious steps. I didn’t even care that I was in the men’s bathroom, almost gagging on the stench. My whole concern, my whole focus was on the man blubbering on the floor.
“Hey. Want to get up off the floor and I’ll take you home?”
The words were out of my mouth before I knew what I was offering. I didn’t have to take him home, in fact I was supposed to be behind the bar serving drinks, not babysitting a customer. But Nate wasn’t just any customer. I wasn’t exactly sure what he was. All I knew was I couldn’t bear to see him like this.
I stuck my hand out and hoped he’d take it.
For a long, moment I stood there feeling like a complete idiot. I was in the men’s bathroom, having a one way conversation with a man who was obviously beyond fucked up, with my hand stuck out in front of me hopefully. I couldn’t bring myself to move away, though. I couldn’t turn my back on him. I don’t know what it was that broke him and I didn’t need to. Right now, I just needed to get him up off the floor and back in his own home.
“Please, Nate. Let me take you home?” I begged.
It took a moment. It felt like an eternity. The moment Nate’s damp palm settled in mine, I heard myself exhale a breath I hadn’t even realised I’d been holding. Pulling him to his feet, the moment Nate was steady and balanced, he wrapped his arms around me and crushed me against him. When he buried his face against my neck, I felt the damp tears against my neck and squeezed him even tighter. How could I not? He obviously needed something, someone, and I was there. I just had to steel my heart and not let my head believe this was anything more than it was. An innocent hug between friends.
When he pulled back, I looked into his bloodshot eyes, and when his breathed out, the bourbon on his breath made me want to gag. He was pissed and upset and gross. Not a good combination. Reaching down, I laced my fingers through his, and led him out of the bathroom. Jenna saw us and took in the scene, before offering me an understanding nod. Ducking into the office, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. Nate was copying my every step.
