"Thanks, buddy, but literally, I'm not interested." I walked away from him but I took his tip and pocketed it.
My feet hurt, my back was screaming, and every time I brushed against something my tits screamed at me to back off. Usually when my period was coming they hurt, but never this bad, and I was a few days late. Which also wasn't unheard of in my cycle, though usually I was way moodier by this point.
"Everything okay?" Jason asked as I stopped by the register. My manager, and the one who called me in to cover Regan's shift when she bailed last minute due to a bad head cold. We never worked together most nights, but being a Saturday, two weekssince Asher left for rehab, he had asked for help assuming it would be packed. Turned out it wasn't such a busy night so far.
"Handsy down there keeps insisting I go home with him. I think we need to cut him off," I told Jason, setting the dirty glass from table one down by the sink.
"Want me to call him a cab?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow, but I shrugged. "Just take his keys I think. And keep him away from me. I'm not feeling the best."
My stomach had been sour all day, though not in a "I’m sick" sort of way. More like I was just lightly dehydrated and in need of some electrolytes. I hadn't eaten today yet either, so I doubted I was actually coming down with anything.
"Well, we're not so busy if you want to go home. I'm sorry I wasted your time coming in. Saturdays are usually slammed…" He picked up the hose for the tap and filled one glass then another with a light beer while I washed cups.
"Yeah you know, if you don't mind I might go home. My feet are killing me and I'm not making tips anyway." My wise choice not to drink tonight paid off. Usually I had a few drinks while tending bar just to keep my energy and spirits up, but I hadn't felt well like I told him. Now I could drive home without. having to wait to sober up.
"Sure… Just text me when you're home safe." It was like him to make the ladies who worked for him check in after a night shift—a gentlemanly quality I appreciated.
I washed up and clocked out, then donned my jacket and headed out. It'd been a boring few weeks without Asher in the office and even Clayton was lying low. He couldn’t very well pressure me when the man of the hour was MIA, so he had no reason tobadger me. But I'd been learning some things from Jared, and a few things from Robert Lang, one of the board members who liked to check in on the team now and then.
But I missed Asher being around the office. Working directly with him was different than working for a team of interns. In a way it made me feel more important than I really was, which was part of it, but I also just missed him. I'd grown attached to him and how he spoke to me, and the fiery chemistry between us too.
Dressed to head home, I pushed through the back door of the bar into the alley, but walking past the dumpster I got a whiff of something rotten that turned my stomach. It was so bad, I gagged for a second, and then started dry heaving as I continued on toward my car parked a few yards away.
But before I got to my drivers' side door, I was throwing up. Nothing came except a bit of clear liquid and bile, and it burned my sinuses and made the retching even worse. My stomach spasmed and I stood hunched over by my back tire letting my body do its thing for a moment. The waves of rolling nausea didn’t quiet when the vomiting was over though, and as I sank into my car seat, fumbling for a paper napkin from my glove box to wipe my nose, I started to get an uneasy feeling.
My period was a few days late, my boobs hurt, and I was super tired all the time. Not to mention how I cried every time Asher called me and had to go. I thought it was the guilt eating at me, and maybe part of it was, but what if it was more?
I counted backward in my head to the day I met Asher, four and a half weeks ago now, and we had sex the next day. Unprotected sex.
Oh my god.
We'd been so careful after those first few times, but it only took one time to make a baby. I was not stupid.
Cold dread filled my chest and made the nausea worse as I put the key in the ignition and started the car. I wasn’t one of those "wait and see" types of girls who would just sit there for months hoping to get their period—not when life was already a mess. Sure, the past two weeks of Asher not being around meant less guilt eating away at me because I didn't have to look him in the eye and lie to him daily, but when he came back, I still had the little issue of a half a million dollars I had to pay Clayton back.
A baby just didn't fit into this picture at all. NO matter what it meant for me and Asher. Especially knowing what he'd already been through with his first baby.
I drove a little recklessly toward the only pharmacy I knew would be open this time of night, and wasted no time buying a pregnancy test. I couldn't live with any other agonizing emotions, not for a single day. Shame and guilt were bad enough. Terrifying anxiety over what might be was not something I was interested in feeling.
So I got the test and drove home, and went straight to the toilet to take it.
Unfortunately I didn't have to pee, which meant I had to sit there drinking huge gulps of water for about ten minutes before my body told me I could urinate enough to do the test, and then the real torture started. Three full minutes of chewing my lip and biting my nail to keep my nerves under control, only to see two bright pink lines—bold ones too, not those faint lines that are hard to read.
I sank onto the edge of the bathtub staring at that plastic wand hating myself more than I ever thought possible.
Clayton would eat this up. He could use it to ruin Asher.
But Asher would confess his undying affection—at least based on how he'd been acting when he checked himself into rehab. Assuming he never learned about Clayton's plot and my stupid agreement to him.
But one thing was for sure. I had some answers to cough up for both of them.
Because when—not if—Clayton found out, there was no keeping it a secret. And if Asher found out why Clayton had chosen me as his "intern-babysitter" he would never speak to me again, and I would end up in bankruptcy court and tending bar for the rest of my life.
My god, I was pregnant with Asher Locke's baby, and I couldn't even let myself day dream about how amazing life with him would be, because I knew it would never happen.
13
ASHER
