“You can wipe down a few of the tables,” he says. I nod, getting out the spray and towels and wiping down all the tables thoroughly. I pull out the vacuum and get to work, making sure the floor is spotless, too. When I can’t find anything else to do, I go and stand next to Reid, who is going through receipts at the cash register. He looks up at me, his expression unguarded.
“I know I’m an ass**le, Sum. God, you are so beautiful. I just, I need some time. Can you give me that?” he asks, his eyes so intense.
“I don’t get what you want from me, Reid,” I reply, not looking away.
“I want you, but I can’t have you,” he says, his expression now veiled.
“You can have me, I’m right here! You’re the one pulling away, playing hot and cold with me.” I really want to understand, but he's not giving me much.
“It’s not the right time, I can’t get involved with anyone right now.” He slams the cash register shut.
“Exactly, so we can be friends. You can f**k whoever you want, and I can do the same,” I say, gauging his reaction.
He doesn’t look pleased. “Are you trying to tell me you’re f**king someone?” he growls, and I see a flash of pain and regret before he masks his expression.
“What I’m saying is that it isn’t any of your business,” I say, my gentle tone softening the blow of my harsh words.
“Who?” he grates out, his jaw clenched.
“No one!” I huff, sighing in relief when a customer walks in. However, when I see its Reid’s blonde my temper gets the best of me.
“Who is this bitch?” I ask Reid, saying it loud enough for her to hear.
“Don’t talk to her like that, Summer,” he snaps, walking over to the girl and talking to her in hushed tones.
What the hell?
I walk into the office and start sorting through papers, not wanting to see Reid act tender towards another woman. Why is she always around?
It takes about half an hour until Reid approaches me. “Summer, we’ve got customers.”
Without saying a word, I put the papers down and head out the front, serving a couple of girls who had just turned legal.
“What can I get you?” I ask a cute dark haired guy. He looks to be about my age, with a lanky frame and bright blue eyes.
“I'll have a beer,” he says, grinning.
“What kind?”
“How about you pick one for me,” he says, leaning against the bar. I pick out the girliest beer I can find, and hand it to him. He chuckles, shaking his head at me, handing over the money.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Summer, you?”
“Harlen, nice to meet you.” He eyes me, taking a small sip of beer.
“You, too.”
“I haven’t seen you here before,” he says.
“I’m kind of a new recruit,” I tell him, pushing my hair behind my ear.
“Can I take you out?” he blurts out, flushing. I find myself leaning forward a little, endeared by his shy expression.
“No chance in hell, Harlen,” comes a growl from behind me. I exhale deeply, causing my hair to blow in the air.
Harlen looks surprised. “She yours?”
“Are you questioning me?” Reid asks, steel in his tone.
Harlen shakes his head. “See you on Thursday, Reid,” he says, throwing a longing glance my way before walking to a table with a few other guys.
I sigh. “That was really rude.”
“You want a boy or a man, beauty?” he asks, his lips pursing.
“I just want you, Reid, but I don’t always get what I want, do I? I learnt that at a young age. You need to stop with the whole ‘if you can’t have me, neither can anyone else’ thing because it’s selfish and I’m getting sick of it.”
Reid scrubs his hand down his face, staying silent for a second before he replies. “You want me to say it's okay for you to be with another guy? Cos that’s never gonna happen. Ever.”
I stomp my foot in frustration. “Where did your girlfriend go?” I sneer.
“She’s not my girlfriend, Summer,” he says patiently.
“Then who is she?” I demand.
“Why, you jealous?” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What do you think?” I snap, copying his stance.
“She’s not my girl, I haven’t had a girlfriend since…” he trails off, looking put out that he let that slip.
“Since who?” I ask, dying with curiosity.
“No one,” he says, avoiding eye contact.
“When?”
“About two years ago,” he says. Two years ago? When he lost his brother?
“Okay,” I say, stopping with the twenty questions.
“Okay?” he echoes, looking suspicious.
“Sure. Hey, tomorrow, can I come in to work a little late? I have a hair appointment.”
“No problem. What you doing to it?” he asks, sounding like he genuinely wants to know.
“Cutting it.”
He freezes, turning to stare at me. “How short?”
I show him with my hands. “Just above my shoulders.”
“You’re not cutting it,” he says, frowning.
“I’m sorry?” I say slowly, sure I didn’t hear him right.
“I love your hair, please don’t cut it,” he begs, taking a lock of my hair and staring at it.