Page 62 of Another Last Call
He relaxed a bit. “I was so fucking mad and then so…”
“Me too,” I said. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“I wasn’t going to call her, you know.”
I felt my shoulders tense at the mention of Bridesmaid One. “It doesn’t matter if you were. It’s none of my business.”
“It bothered you, and I pushed your buttons instead of being mature about it.”
Sighing, I leaned back against the couch. “You were right. I was… I was jealous.” The word stuck in my throat and I felt my face turn red. “And I had absolutely no right to be because we agreed we shouldn’t hook up.”
“It doesn’t excuse me being an asshole about it.”
“It doesn’t excuse me either.” I closed my eyes, a wave of exhaustion washing over me. “I’m at the bar every day. Morning to night. I can’t even play my guitar anymore because I’m too busy. And it’s only going to get worse. Tourist season hasn’t even officially started.”
“Let’s hire someone else to help, then. A front of house manager or something.”
I chuckled dryly. “From where? There were hardly any resumes that came in for the last position. And we can’t just keep throwing money at staff and hoping it’ll solve our problems. Maybe once summer’s over, if the season goes well. Or maybe Mom will actually come back and…”
“Let me help more, then,” he said when I trailed off.
“You already work almost every day.”
“I own half the place. I can work as much as I want.”
Shaking my head, I let go of his hand. “I’m just whining. I have to sort my shit out and get used to it.” Caleb looked at me and I met his eyes. “We shouldn’t do this again.”
He nodded. “This is the last time.”
“Right. Just, can you maybe be subtle about… you know. Hitting on people? At least at work? I promise I’m going to try not to be jealous, but…”
“Scout’s honour.” He leaned forward and kissed me suddenly, startling me. “Sorry. Last one. From here on out, we keep it professional.”
He left soon after, making me promise one more time that I was okay and that he hadn’t hurt me. Locking the door after he left, I sighed miserably.
I wasn’t okay, but not for the reason he was thinking.
Every time I slept with him, it got harder and harder to not want more. He was an addiction. The more I had, the more I wanted. The more I tried to quit him, the more I craved.
I didn’t want to keep it professional, but it was what we had to do.
I promised myself it was the last time.
Thirty-Two
Caleb
Itwasnotthelast time.
The next week of work went well. At first, Maggie and I were completely in sync. Tammy, the new bartender Maggie had hired, was great. She caught on easily and was a fun, easygoing person who the locals quickly grew to love. I spent most of the week working with her, teaching her the ins and outs of the bar and its quirks. For that reason, Maggie ended up taking care of most of the behind-the-scenes stuff. She was understandably frustrated, and it was just one thing that snowballed into more and more frustration, until we had another fight after a long shift.
Somehow, I ended up in her apartment again. That time, I didn’t take charge. Maggie was the one who was in control, and she made sure I knew it as she sat me on her couch and rode my cock. Her fingernails scratched up and down my back as she fucked me, digging into my skin and leaving marks that lasted for days.
Again, we said it was the last time.
A week later, we fought about changing our hours. I insisted we could close early on the slower weeknights. Maggie hated the idea, seeing as The Sea Glass hadn’t changed their hours in years. I got my way, but only after eating her pussy until she screamed and then fucking her from behind on her bed. She begged me to spank her and pull her hair again, and I swear half the town heard her shrieking as she came.
That was the last time, too, and the week after that, and the one after that.
