Blake? I think she’s mentioned that name before…I think that’s the name she threw out as another option of whose houseto crash at. The pain in my chest only gets worse and my stomach turns in knots.
“Worked,” Blake corrects. “Officially quit two days ago.”
Jensen’s eyes go wide, and I hate both myself right now and hate the fact that this is nowhere the end of this conversation.
“Wait, really? How’d that go?”
“Not quite as bad as your exit, but not pretty, either. Did you know I too am a slut and a thief?”
My blood boils. I know I told Jensen not to tell me the lies they were saying about her, and apparently that was a good call. “Jensen, what the fuck is he talking about?”
Her eyes lock on mine and her face softens. “Beck, it’s fine. I told you they were saying things, and we handled what we could in that situation. It’s over now.”
Blake shifts in the seat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean?—”
“No, it’s fine.” Jensen turns her attention back to him and it takes all my willpower to not reach over the bar and take it back. “So, what are you doing now?”
“Eh, I’ll let them get their hissy fit out, same as I told you to do. But in light of how they treated you, I may have clued the health department in on a few glaring violations along with a copy of Hank’s license that, surprise, surprise, he forgot to renew.”
Jensen’s eyes light up in a way that has my stomach turning in knots. “You didn’t…”
“Damn right I did. We’ll see what comes of it, but in the meantime, I’m going to go visit my sister for a bit. She runs a bed and breakfast and usually needs extra hands over the holidays. After that I’ll come back here and look for a new place to work.”
Don’t say it. Don’t say it.
“Well, if you’re interested I’m going to be opening my own place. Wouldn’t mind renting a spot?—”
Fuck.
“Jensen.” Her name is out of my mouth before I can stop it. I’m overstepping. I’m well aware I’m being a total dick right now. I need to stop before I make it worse.
Jensen tilts her head. She’s rightfully pissed at me. I can see it all over her face. “Got something to add to that interruption, Beckham?”
I stand from my seat. “Nope, I’m gonna go actually. It’s your thing, I know you can handle it. I’m just—”I’m making it worse. Holy shit, I’m making this so much worse.“I’ll see you at the house.”
Jensen huffs a small breath. “Yeah, maybe.”
I feel that “maybe” all the way home. I hate it, and myself. I can’t explain it.
I know I don’t own her, but in some fucked up way, it bothered me that I couldn’t put this claim on her either. Jensen said someday down the road she did want that forever type of love…
After taking Dottie across the street, I stare at my empty living room with a sigh. I wanted to stay on that damn barstool until Jensen could come home with me, but here I am, stewing in my own downfall.
Dottie jumps up on the couch to turn a few circles before lying down with a humph.
“I know…I wish she was here too. Surely, her ‘maybe’ was an empty threat…”
Dottie lifts her eyes to me, and I swear if she could talk she would tell me not to put it past her mom to let me sweat it out.
Sighing, I do the only thing I can bring myself to do, which is play a round of pool. I don’t turn on an audiobook or music, I let the silence be my punishment.
Nearing hour two, my anxiety is starting to feel a bit like something clawing inside my chest. Calling Jensen would mostlikely go to voicemail, and calling Winedown would only piss her off more.
Another half hour passes and I’m about to grab my keys again to head to the bar but then the front door opens.
Dottie jumps up from the couch and races to greet Jensen the moment she steps through the door.
Jensen squats down to give her a big greeting, but when she stands back up and her eyes lock onto mine, she softens. “Hey.”
