Keep My Heart (Top Shelf Romance Book 7)

by Lex Martin

  “No, he invited her because he knows that weddings are an amorous atmosphere, and he wants to get in her pants.” Karan corrects with a growing smile.

  “Ohh, psshh,” I say. “He needed to get his family off his back, so he said he was bringing someone. And then he invited me. I’m telling you, it’s decidedly not amorous and if he wanted to get into my pants he didn’t have to go through all that.”

  “So you wouldn’t mind if another guest put the moves on him, then?” Diane asks pointedly.

  “I… It’s not like…” I say. My body stiffens. What the hell has gotten into Diane? I swear some days I wonder why she even talks to me.

  “Of course she would mind!” Karan protests for me. “Have you seen Charlie? Because he’s got amazing biceps, and an ass that won’t quit. Give the girl a chance to get some, Diane!”

  “I’m just asking,” Diane says, putting her hands up. “Speaking of that ass, I’m planning to go to Mac's tonight to see it in action. You in?”

  “Definitely,” Karan says.

  “Sure!” Elaine adds.

  “Umm…” I say, unsure. “You know, I’m just not feeling it tonight, guys.” The idea of Diane anywhere around Charlie sends that spike of anger back. I don’t need to see that, not with how tired I am and all these feelings that bubble up every time I hear his name.

  “Are you sure? Your man will be there,” Karan says with a twinkle in her eyes.

  “She said she’s not feeling it,” Diane cuts in. “So let’s let her get back to work.”

  “If you’re sure…” Karan says.

  “Totally,” I say. “You guys have fun.” I don’t think I can handle being around Charlie right now. It’s definitely an uneven relationship in terms of how much we like each other, and I can already see myself getting hurt. Neither of us mentioned his mother and sister after they left. It’s like we’re pretending none of it happened and we’re just our flirty normal selves. But there was that kiss.

  Charlie

  Eight o’clock passes.

  Nine o’clock has come and gone.

  My shift is done. I told them all I was heading out early, but here I am, still waiting. I was hoping to take Grace out to dinner. Somewhere other than here to make up for my sister and her antics.

  But she hasn’t showed. She didn’t come in last night either, even though some of her coworkers did. I have a sick feeling in my gut telling me something’s wrong.

  I finally give in and reach into my pocket for my phone to text her.

  “You alright?” Maggie asks me as the denim rubs against my fingers as I pull the phone out of my back pocket.

  “Yeah, fine,” I answer as she sets an order of wings down in front of Mickey. The sound of the plate hitting the table forces me look up at her. She smiles as she scoots the plate closer to him and addresses me.

  “You don’t look fine. Go home.”

  I stare at her, but she doesn’t back down. “I’m going, just making sure a friend’s not on her way.”

  “A friend?” Maggie’s eyes light up. “Your little Grace?”

  I don’t like how she says it with that teasing tone. As if she knows something I don’t.

  “Yeah, her name’s Grace.” I hold her gaze, but Maggie’s not affected in the least.

  “You go on and message her then,” she says, then leaves a bit slower and a bit happier than she came. Out of habit, I take a look around and notice Mickey looking up at me with a smile. It occurs to me that word is probably getting around about the two of us. Shit.

  I shift my weight and look down at the phone. This wasn’t meant to be anything. She’s just a sweet girl to flirt with. We don’t want the same things. That last statement resonates and makes me feel like an asshole. What the hell am I doing? I almost put the phone back in my pocket. If Grace wanted to see me, she’d be here.

  Almost. I almost don’t message her. But fuck that, I want to see her.

  I took the first night off that I’ve had in a long damn time to see her. Maybe I didn’t text her, since I assumed she’d come in like she usually does, but I have the balls to ask her. Right fucking now.

  My body heats as I type in the message.

  Missing you, sweetheart. I’m getting off work and wondering where you are.

  I regret sending it pretty much as soon as it goes on the screen. It’s not like she’s obligated to be here. I let out a heavy sigh, hating that all of this feels so suffocating. It’s been five years since I… I don’t even know what I’m doing. Asking her on a date, I guess. A real one, not just to be my fake date for a wedding.

  Sorry Charlie, I went home tonight.

  A frown tips my lips down, and that sick feeling comes back to me. I clear my throat and type back without thinking.

  I was hoping I’d see you. Now I don’t have a dinner date. :( Again, I immediately regret my decision. A sad face? Really? Throwing my head back I grip my phone like I want to strangle it. What is it with this woman?

  A dinner date? Or a fake dinner date?

  I thought the food would be real… I’m playful in my text back, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted.

  You make me smile. I can see her doing just that. Smiling as she reads the message.

  Good, you should be smiling. You’re too sweet not to be smiling.

  It feels easy flirting with Grace. It always has. My chest feels light as I wait for her response.

  I’m sorry. Not tonight.

  Another date? I question. I don’t think she’d be one to do that. She’d tell me. But I ask her without thinking. I need to quit it with that.

  Nope. Just a lot of work to catch up on and I’m exhausted.

  I think about asking her if she’s seeing anyone, and making this thing between us official. But then I remember all the stories she’s told me about her dates and looking for a man to settle down with. Clingy. I’m not ready for all that. I could at least ask her out to dinner though. Just to tell her thank you for putting up with my sister. Maybe sneak in another kiss.

  Another night? I ask her.

  She takes a minute to respond, and all the while I’m getting more and more anxious. Maybe I should take the hint, but I don’t want to. I at least want to feed her.

  Sure. I’d like that.

  I’m smiling and thinking about going home when her next text catches me off guard.

  What are we doing, Charlie?

  What do you mean? I text her back almost instantly.

  Fuck, even before she answers I know what’s coming. Grabbing closest chair and ignoring Mag’s stare, I take a seat and stare at the phone, willing her to respond. I lean forward, my elbows on my knees and wait, rereading her question. What are we doing?

  I knew my sister got to her. Why the hell did she have to come in here and mess up what I had going with Grace? Everything was easy, just going with the flow and taking it slow. Making sure I’m not going to hurt her.

  We’re just having fun.

  I text her back before she can answer, my heart pounding in my chest. I lean back in my seat, the legs screeching as they slide across the floor and run my hand through my hair.

  I feel like I’m in a little over my head. I stare at her response for a moment. That sick feeling was right. I knew it. She’s not happy anymore just playing around. I don’t blame her. She knows what she wants, and me fucking around with her is just causing problems for her.

  What do you mean? I ask her, as my stomach sinks. I rub my eyes, feeling exhausted and hating myself. What did I really expect from her anyway? I huff out a breath and shake my head as my phone beeps and her reply comes through.

  I’m not really sure what it means to just have fun with someone. It seems like I’m going to end up getting hurt and I’m not sure it’s a smart thing for me to do. I’m sorry.

  I feel like shit, looking fixedly at the phone in my hand. Brushing my hand over my head out of frustration, I look up and see James at the bar, staring at me as he fills a glass with ice. I nearly snap
at him, feeling stressed out and pissed off, but he breaks my stare and looks away as soon as he sees me glaring back.

  I suck it up and text Grace back. I knew this was a bad idea. We’re looking for different things in life.

  Are you still able to come to the wedding or do I have to tell my sister we broke up?

  Shit that hurt to write. I ignore it all, knowing it’s best though. Better to break it off before she gets hurt. Because that’s all I’m going to do anyway.

  She’s quick to answer: I’ll still go with you. And just so you know, I really do like you.

  I know I should say something to put her at ease. I should tell her something to make her feel safe and comfortable. But I don’t want to lie to her and worse, I don’t want to lead her on. I’m not ready to get married and have kids or any of that shit. And that’s what she’s looking for. Especially knowing she may not be able to. I don’t need a baby-crazy woman trying to lock me down… but it doesn’t stop me from wanting her. At least for as long as I can have her.

  Soon as this wedding is over, she’ll probably stop coming here altogether.

  Night, Charlie.

  I swallow thickly as I look at the screen.

  I type in a few responses, but delete them all. I’m not going to lead her on. I won’t do that to her; she deserves better. I finally settle on something simple.

  See you later, sweetheart.

  Grace

  The second I finally pull my headphones off at work, Diane calls my name. My gaze flicks to the clock before turning to see that she’s ready to go for the day, her jacket already on and purse over her shoulder.

  “Hey,” she says, striding into my cubicle and leaning against the desk. “I don’t want to ruin your productivity or anything, but it’s almost seven. Our meeting went long.”

  She doesn’t need to but gestures to the salespeople who I can see filtering out of the conference room. Rubbing under my eyes I slowly stand up, stretching. I don’t know the last time I got up. I’ve buried myself in work all day. Another productive day.

  “You’re not interrupting,” I answer her. “I just came to a stopping point, creatively. Perfect timing.”

  “Well, we’re going to the Local. You should come, assuming you’re not too busy with Charlie,” she says, teasing.

  At the end of the aisle I spot the gaggle of women gathering near Diane’s cubicle and then glance at my desk. If I start on another project, I’ll be here until midnight at least and I’m sure as heck not doing that.

  “Okay,” I say with both a shrug and a smile. “Why not?”

  “Cool,” her peppy tone is infectious. “We’ll see you there. It’s karaoke night!”

  She shoots finger guns at me, and I can’t help but smile. “See you there.”

  The traffic is heavy, and I end up with less time than I’d planned to refresh my makeup and take off my leggings, leaving me in a very short pale peach dress.

  Rushing to get there before it’s too late and everyone else is several drinks ahead of me, I let my hair down on the way to the Local. By the time I pull into the parking lot I look — well, at least respectable. The car door shuts with a loud click and I spot Diane instantly, who’s waiting outside the bar.

  Taking in the bar patio, I’m immediately unsure. There are six tables outside, every single one packed with twenty-somethings ready to party. They’re loud, and a few are smoking cigarettes. I rub my forearm as I walk toward Diane, feeling like this isn’t exactly my vibe.

  “There you are!” Her arm wraps around my shoulder, pulling me in close and I nearly stumble but have to laugh. “I need my drinking buddy. Claire’s driving us home.”

  It ends abruptly as the loud noise of the bar hits me the second the door is opened and I nearly stumble again from being pulled in by Diane. Inside it’s madness, lots of little booths packed with people. I have to immediately flatten myself against the wall to avoid a waitress with a tray of drinks. Diane grabs me and pulls me toward the back, where some of our coworkers have managed to secure a table. Thank God we have a table.

  “Look who’s here!” she announces.

  A rousing cheer goes up, but I assume it has more to do with alcohol than my arrival. I recognize all the girls at the table, but the only one I’m friends with is Ann, and she’s at the other end. I need to move seats. As quickly as possible. Ann says something, shouting it even, but I have no idea what she said. I can barely hear the conversation continuing to my right.

  I should tell Diane that I don’t plan on being here long. I just want to blow off some steam before I head home. The conversation with Charlie last night still has me feeling like an idiot. I don’t want to stay past the point of being able to drive myself home.

  “Listen, Diane,” I try to get her attention. I’m interrupted by the arrival of two pitchers of beer and a stack of plastic cups. Another cheer goes up from our table.

  “Shhh,” Diane says, taking it upon herself to pour me a plastic cup full of foamy beer. “Here, drink up.”

  “Actually—” I try again, but Diane is preoccupied. Turning to my one ally here is useless, Ann is wasted. It only makes me grin, happy that she has a chance to get out and have a girls night.

  “Shots! How many of us are there? Seven?” Diane shouts absently, turning around and searching for the girl who just brought us the pitchers. “Where’s the waitress?”

  I settle back in my seat and sip my beer. Don’t be a party pooper, I chide myself. I guess I’m just still down from the conversation last night. My phone buzzes.

  I check it, and see that I have a text from Ann.

  Good to see you, girl. I didn’t think you’d come.

  My gaze lifts to hers and I see her with her phone in her hand and the smile on her face as she stares back at me.

  Good to see you too stranger! I have so much to catch you up on.

  Tell me everything! But do it tomorrow so I’ll actually remember.

  A huff of a laugh leaves me at her response and instead of responding, I lift my cup to her in cheers and we drink together.

  “Hey!” Diane says, snapping her fingers in front of my face. I wrinkle my nose at her, and she smiles. “Quit moping and drink already!”

  Soon, not one, but two shots are put in front of me.

  Everyone throws the shots back, one and then the other. I do the same, willing the alcohol to drown out all the overthinking I’m doing. To my surprise, it actually tastes good, like a piece of grape-flavored candy.

  “Mmm,” I hum appreciatively. I sip my beer and try to fit in.

  A night out and some alcohol definitely can’t hurt even though I find myself thinking about Charlie. I don’t know the first mistake I made. Making that bet. Or asking him what we were.

  My phone buzzes again and I see it’s from Ann. When I lift my gaze to hers, I see the concern. More beer. She wrote me.

  I lift my glass again and pretend I’m not crazy. That I don’t feel like I just had a break-up.

  An hour later, we collectively heave ourselves out the front door and into Claire’s car. I drank way too much. I knew it too, but each drink made the anxiety in my chest feel lighter and lighter. And I got to talk to Ann and tell her everything. At least I think I did. I’m not sure she heard it all though through all the noise.

  There are six women packed in Claire’s little Nissan Altima, but we’re not going far. Mac's is right around the corner from here, and they’ve got a DJ spinning tonight.

  There are three reasons really, why I’m going and that’s what I think about in the car ride there. Although I make sure to laugh when the other girls laugh, clinging to my bottle of water Ann grabbed for me.

  I’m too drunk to drive.

  I didn’t want to stay at the Local by myself

  I want to prove it’s fine; I’m fine. It was silly and nothing happened anyway. Everything is fine, so I’m going.

  We get to Mac's in one piece, thanks to Claire being the designated driver. It’s dark inside, with a
couple of spotlights casting their glow on the bodies packing the dance floor. It’s not nearly as packed as the Local, but there are more people in here than usual.

  “Whoa,” I say as I push through the crowd toward the bar. But then again, I come during the weekdays mostly.

  Charlie’s working the far end of the bar, serving drinks to what looks like a whole sorority’s worth of girls. I follow Diane to the other end of the bar, where a younger guy is making drinks. Is that James, I wonder? I don’t remember and my brain is hazy.

  I try to think what his name is with every step, but it escapes me. I realize that I must be tipsy, so I try to rein myself in while I stand at the bar, although my eyes keep darting to Charlie, waiting for him to see me. There’s not enough alcohol to make the bundle of nerves in my stomach knock it the heck off.

  It takes a couple of minutes for me to get a drink. When I’m finally at the front of the line at the bar, I catch Charlie’s eye. He looks at me first, then at my work friends, and sort of shakes his head. He’s smiling, though. I bite down on my lip, feeling the smile stretch across my face as I rock on my heels.

  But before I can even say hi, his attention is diverted back to the coeds, and he says something that makes them all titter. I’m certain one of them attempts to pull Charlie in for a kiss. He dodges the kiss at the last minute, but I’ve had my fill of watching.

  It’s just fun.

  All that internal pep talk leaves me in a quick second.

  I turn away, grabbing my drink, cheeks heating and my throat feeling tight. If Charlie can flirt with every woman who looks his way, there’s nothing saying that I can’t have fun with whoever I want. As if that’s what I want to do right now. I dance my way over to Diane, trying not to let my hurt show. Well my attempt of a dance. It’s more like I sway my way over to her.

  It’s not like you even have anything with Charlie, I remind myself.

  I put my hands up in the air and dance, careful not to spill my drink. I’m sticking with beer tonight. Diane and the girls join in, and I try to just relax and have fun. I refuse to look over at Charlie, instead plastering my gaze on the back wall where the TVs display some music video.