Page 33 of This Time Around

“Fuck! Luke that hurt,” I screech, blowing my hair out of my face.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll kiss it better,” he promises as he closes my bedroom door behind us and locks it.

“We’re all alone now. I’m not sure the lock is necessary,” I tease.

“I’m not taking any fucking chances, baby.” He raises a brow as he sets me down on the bed.

It’s been about two weeks since April walked in on Luke and I. While Luke’s parents are so excited we are dating, April seems less than thrilled. They have dinner at their parents’ house every weekend, and Luke says she still isn’t really talking to him unless she has to. I knew she would be mad, but I figured she’d have her dramatic moment and then just get over it. She never burdens herself with emotions about things she can’t control. She prefers to be happy.

This is all I can think about as I mindlessly pour a few beers for the regulars who are sitting across the counter from me at the bar.

“Blake, what the fuck!” Harvey, my manager, yells and scares the shit out of me, beer splattering across the counter as the glass slips from my hand.

“Excuse me?” I challenge.

“The money didn’t add up from your register last night. I told you to check it and make sure it was all logged correctly before you left. Are you stealing from me?” he accuses.

“First,” I snap back, “I did check it and you signed off on it, saying I logged it correctly before you paid me out on my tips. I am tired of this shit, Harvey. You ask for help with shit, and then you do a piss-poor job of double checking the things you need to and try blaming everyone else.”

“You can’t talk to me like that, I’m your boss.”

“So that entitles you to accuse me of stealing from you to cover for your mishap, in front of customers?” I argue.

“My mishap? I am missing money, you think I’d be freaking out if I was the one who stole it?” There is no reasoning with him.

“I would NEVER fucking steal money. You know what? Fuck this. I quit.” Infuriated, I untie my apron and slam it down on the bar. He yells after me as I walk towards the door, but I don’t give a shit. Harvey can kiss my ass.

Ten minutes later, I’m at Luke’s door.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks, concern etched in his expression as he reaches for me.

I walk in, my body still blazing with adrenaline. I can feel the flush in my cheeks, as my breaths come quick and shallow, like I’ve just sprinted the entire way here. My hair, usually neatly tied back for work, has come loose in wisps as they cling to the sheen of sweat coating my face. I’m pacing back and forth across the main living space of Luke’s apartment. My hands are moving wildly to punctuate each point as the words spill from my mouth, my voice sharp and edged with frustration. “That fucking piece of shit accused me of stealing money from him. He said the fucking cash from my register wasn’t adding up from last night, after the dickweed counted and verified it in the motherfucking ledger.”

“What the fuck, B. You don’t need to take his shit,” he snaps sharply.

“Oh, trust me, I know. I quit on the spot.” Just as the words leave my mouth, realization sets in. I collapse on the couch behind me, the weight of my decision crashing into me like a tidal wave. My chest tightens and my hands tremble as the adrenaline gives way to the emptiness in the pit of my stomach. I stare down at the floor, my jaw clenching, I don’t have a job anymore.

Instantly, my eyes dart around the living room, trying my hardest to avoid Luke’s gaze, as if it will somehow make the truth less real. “I don’t have a job,” I whisper.

“I’m glad you quit, B. You are so much better than that place. You’ve been miserable for a long time, and it was taking a toll on you.”

“Luke, I don’t have a fucking job. How in the hell am I going to pay any of my bills, or my rent, without a paycheck?” I panic.

“B, this is a good thing,” he reminds me, bending down and brushing the hairs from my face. “You can move in here, and save for a few months, add it to the money you have for a down payment on a place to open on your own.”

“Luke, we’ve been together for like a second. We can’t live together.”

“Says who?” he asks.

I think about it for a second. “My lease isn’t up for a while. I can’t afford to break it,” I state the obvious.

“You’ll figure it out, and if you need help, I’m here, B. You’re not on your own anymore”

I drop my eyes with a shy grin, unable to stop my smile as it threatens to break free, “But I don’t want to rely on you for everything.” I take a calming breath.

“Why not?” he asks. “If I offer to help, please, let me spoil you.”

“Maybe,” I whisper, feeling the weight of my lease. “But, I like my independence. I enjoy taking care of myself, Luke.”