Knocking Boots

by Willow Winters

  She laughs. “I told you it was nothing bad!”

  I reach out and almost grab her hand or hug her, but instead I clasp mine in front of me, feeling so grateful and overwhelmed. Remain professional, I remind myself. “Thanks so much, Sarah. Really.”

  “Well, I just wanted you to realize that I see how hard you work. I see all the nights you’re here late, and all the crap you put up with from the clients.”

  “You won’t regret this. I promise,” I say. The giddiness takes over as the shock wears off.

  “I’m sure I won’t,” she states matter of factly, winking.

  We part ways, Sarah back to her office and me back to my cubicle. Still smiling so hard that it hurts, I return to my seat. Immediately, Diane’s head pops up over the cubicle walls. Holy shit. I let out a small laugh, short and full of relief.

  “You scared the crap out of me,” I joke.

  “What was that all about?” she asks. “It looked serious.”

  “I… I actually got a promotion,” I admit to her, my smile never waning. “It’s weird to say it out loud.” Oh my gosh, I got a promotion. It’s my first ever. I’m still in disbelief.

  “What?” she asks, standing straighter. “Promotion to what?”

  “They need someone to manage the project desk,” I answer her, turning in my chair to face her fully and finally breathing normally.

  “No way! I thought Melanie was going to run the project desk.”

  She looks and sounds… pissed. It takes a second to realize that. She’s not at all happy for me. The deep crease in the center of her forehead and scowl on her face give that away. She can’t even pretend to be happy for me? I swallow, feeling the high die down and answer her, “Well, apparently not. They just offered it to me.”

  “Congrats! Seriously, that’s awesome.” Although her words are kind... and rushed, her expression and tone are still off.

  “Thanks.” I smile and try to shrug it off.

  “We should go celebrate later! Go out, grab some drinks.” Her fun side comes back, and for a second I think I imagined her original reaction.

  I must have. She may be obnoxious at times, but I think about it, then decide what the hell.

  “Sure. Maybe we could go to that bar with the awesome Mexican food?” I offer.

  “Sarita’s? Yeah, girl. And then we can make our way to Mac’s.”

  I go silent, but nod. Charlie said he wants me to come to keep up appearances, but I don’t know if I can bring myself to do it. I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t want to play games anymore.

  “What?” Diane asks. “You don’t want to go to Mac’s?”

  “I was just thinking somewhere else would be nice to let loose,” I answer her, but even to me it sounds like a lie. My heart hurts just thinking about it.

  “Is it because of Charlie? Oh my God, did you two break up?”

  “Jesus, Diane!” I say, lowering my voice and looking around. “Not everything is about Charlie.”

  “You did! You totally broke up,” Diane says, a hint of glee evident in her eyes.

  “For your information, there was nothing to break up. We were having fun. Leave it alone Diane.” I wish I could reach out and snatch my words back. It hurts to say it out loud.

  “Were?” she questions and I’ve had it.

  “I said leave it alone.” My tone reflects my anger.

  “Oh,” she says. It’s hard to read what she’s really thinking. “Well, alright. Let’s go to the bar with the Mexican food, then.”

  “Fine,” I say, on edge. I’d rather be angry than anything else. So I cling to that emotion although I think I’m only angry at myself. “I have a lot of work I need to finish first.”

  “I guess that’s why you got the promotion,” she says, with a tight smile. “I’ll be back at six to bug you, though.”

  She disappears behind her side of the wall. I’m left trying to decide if I should feel bad for snapping at her.

  I slip on my headphones and sink into my work, refusing to think about any of this mess of a love life anymore. Well I try. But that doesn’t work. All I can think about is Charlie and how Diane is right. We’re over. Break up, labels or whatever. It’s over.

  Charlie

  I’m about two seconds away from texting Grace when she walks through the front door of the bar. About fucking time.

  I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning, the morning after the wedding.

  She’s still in her work clothes, but her hair is down and swishing around her shoulders as she walks in.

  A feminine screech echoes through the bar behind her, and Grace turns to look over her shoulder.

  “We’re finally here!” Diane’s with her, and my expression falls. I don’t understand how the two of them are friends. I stay behind the bar and move to the far left, where Grace usually sits and where the dishwasher is. My eyes flicker up and I watch the two of them as I get to work. Diane stumbles slightly and talks a bit too loud. A few customers turn to watch them walk in, but then they go right back to what they were doing before.

  “I love this place,” Diane says, dragging Grace by the hand. Grace lets her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and seemingly not wanting to come over to me. I don’t like it, and I don’t understand it in the least.

  Diane’s quick to sit on the barstool at the far end. Grace’s stool.

  I don’t pay her any attention, waiting for Grace to look at me. When she finally does, I can see the same worry there that was on her face at the wedding before she looks away again. That sick feeling of anxiety washes through me. What the hell do I need to do to make her happy?

  Make it official.

  I grab a glass and wipe it down with a drying cloth as Grace takes a seat.

  “Hey there,” I speak up, waiting for her gaze to meet mine.

  “Hey,” her voice is soft. She desperately needs more. She needs a title: girlfriend. For real. My body heats at the thought, but if that’s what it takes, I’ll give it to her. I’ll make it real and let the world know. Ever since the wedding, they’ve all been pushing me anyway.

  I open my mouth to say something to put her at ease, but Diane speaks up, leaning forward and tapping the bar.

  “We’re getting wasted tonight,” she says, already far more drunk than Grace. I cock a brow at her.

  “Is that so?” My eyes dart back to Grace as she sets her purse down on the bar.

  “Can we have two drink specials, please?” Diane asks, taking my attention again.

  “That what you want, sweetheart?” I ask Grace. I hold those doe eyes when she finally looks back at me. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.” I don’t think I’ve ever said truer words.

  “Yeah,” she says absently. I watch her swallow as she looks down at her clutch. It’s awkward, and I don’t like it. I don’t know what happened between yesterday and today. Whatever it is, I need to fix it.

  “Thank you!” Diane practically yells, bouncing in her seat. It takes me a moment to realize she’s talking about the beers. Right.

  I scratch the back of my head as I head to the cooler and get their drinks. I could fucking use one about now, too.

  With two beers in one hand, the glass bottles clinking together, I quickly pop the tops off.

  “Charlie!” a customer calls out to me. I wave back, giving them a tight smile but then walk up to James and brush my shoulder against his.

  “Take care of them,” I instruct, and he follows my eyes to the customer.

  “You got it,” he says, already moving.

  I know I have a rep with these customers. All of them really. But right now, I need time with Grace. Something’s not right and I’m not waiting on closing time to put that smile on her face.

  I pass Diane the beer and then set Grace’s in front of her, but I don’t let go. When she tries to grab it, I pull it away, making her tilt her head and smile softly.

  I let her have the bottle the second time she reaches for it, mostly because it brings a l
ittle happiness to those does eyes of hers. “How’s work?” I ask her, and she finally lightens up some.

  “I got a promotion,” she answers me with a bit of giddiness that makes the nerves settle.

  “That’s fantastic,” I tell her as I toss the caps to the beer in the trash can. “Congrats, sweetheart.”

  She takes a sip of her beer, still looking a bit nervous.

  “You okay-” I start to ask her, but Diane chips in.

  “It’s really crazy, too. We were sure one of our other coworkers was going to take that job,” Diane shakes her head, a look of bewilderment on her face before taking a drink.

  My gaze moves to Grace, who’s watching Diane with a small frown.

  “I have go to the bathroom real quick,” Grace doesn’t look me in the eyes as she slips off the stool. The air between us is thick and it makes my stomach stir with unease. I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but I’ll find out tonight once everyone leaves. Whatever it is, I’ll make it better for her. A sick feeling in my gut is telling me that it’s me. Us. But I ignore it. We’re going to be fine.

  I pick up one of the tumblers from the rack and wipe it down before setting it in the clean section and moving to the next glass as Diane switches seats, moving to the stool Grace was just in.

  My eyes flick up to her, and I give her a tight smile. I think about asking her if everything’s alright with Grace, but I keep my mouth shut, just listening to the sounds of the busy bar.

  “So what are you doing tonight?” Diane asks, twirling her hair around her finger. She gives me a seductive smile, and I’m not sure where it’s coming from. She knows I’m with Grace. My brows pinch as I think about what to tell her.

  Grace. My intentions are to be doing Grace tonight. All night long, if I have any say in the matter.

  “Just going home,” I answer her tightly. I decide to stay neutral and I assume it’s because Diane’s drunk that she’s acting like this.

  “You need company?” she asks.

  “I have Grace for that,” I bite out the response although I try to keep my voice even and make a move to leave, not liking that I’m in this position at all, but she grabs my hand.

  “Not anymore,” she says and her answer makes my heart pound. I turn to look at her, not saying a damn thing or changing my expression.

  “I mean, she told me it was all fake and she was never really into you like that… it was just for fun,” Diane says in a low voice, her hand at the neck of the bottle, tilting it on the bar top. She whispers, leaning in closer. “I get it. You got what you needed from her, and she went slumming for a minute.” She pulls back to take a swig of her beer.

  My heart feels like a knife’s gone through it, slowly twisting and then being pulled out. She was never into me. That’s all I keep thinking.

  No fucking way. Of course she was into me. She wouldn’t lie to me. Would she? I move slowly, grabbing a rag from under the bar and wiping down the lacquered wood mindlessly.

  “So I was thinking, if you’re looking for something tonight-”

  “I’m good,” my words come out hard and maybe harsh. I don’t care though. Diane says something else, but I can’t hear anything over the sound of the blood rushing in my ears as I walk away, right to the back of the bar.

  My heart’s hammering, my blood’s boiling. I feel tense and ready to break.

  It was fake. Just like my last relationship.

  I’m a fucking fool.

  Grace

  I slip onto the barstool next to Diane, deciding to woman up. I want Charlie, and at the very least I can put my heart on the line. Diane looks at me as I right myself, giving me a half smile.

  “Hey,” I say. I should thank her for convincing me to come although I’m sure she really does just want to get wasted. The booze here is way cheaper than anywhere else around.

  “Hey yourself.” She sips amber liquid from a rocks glass. Guess she finished her beer already.

  Putting my clutch on the bar, I search for Charlie, but the bar’s empty.

  “Where’d Charlie go?” I ask Diane. I can still feel the awkward tension between us. I just need to spit it out.

  She shrugs. “He’s around. I think the other bartender is here now, though.”

  Other bartender? I wonder.

  The double doors to the back swing open and grab my attention. Maggie makes an appearance, hauling a big bucket full of ice. She dumps it in the well behind the bar, then hides the bucket. Oh, the other girl. I get what Diane’s saying now.

  “You want something to drink?” Maggie asks. “Charlie’s finishing up some stuff in the back.”

  I glance down to where my beer was when I left and then over to the two empty bottles in front of Diane. “A glass of white zinfandel pretty please.”

  She pours the wine and sets the glass down in front of me, and all the while it’s quiet. My eyes keep flickering back up to the doors. I feel like I need to get these words out now and go tell him, but I can’t force myself to interrupt him.

  “Wanna go somewhere else?” Diane asks.

  Already? We literally just got here. I take her in before answering. She’s drunk, or well on her way there. I can tell by her almost-slurred speech, her rumpled clothes.

  “No,” I say, firming my resolve to talk to Charlie. “I’m going to hang out here for a while longer.” I’m careful as I tell her, “If you want to go though, that’s fine.”

  “Whatever,” Diane says. I knew she’d take it offensively, but I don’t mean it like that. She’s just simply had too much to drink.

  “You want me to call a cab for you?” I offer.

  “I’ll get an Uber,” she rolls her eyes and snatches her clutch before pushing off of the stool.

  “You need help?” I ask her, but she makes a face and turns away from me.

  “Hey, Diane.” God, I feel horrible. I turn in my seat, but she yells out, “I’m fine,” and keeps moving.

  I try to shake off the feeling that I should go help Diane. I really don’t want to. She’s a grown woman… and kind of a bitch. The last thought makes me relax some as I sip my wine.

  My anxiety comes back every time I eye the double doors. I keep my butt planted right where I am and wait for him.

  It’s now or never. I guess I’m going with option 1 after all.

  Time moves slowly as it ticks by. Maggie’s in and out and so is the other bartender, I forget his name. Customers start to dwindle and that sick feeling grows in my stomach. I check my phone here and there. Charlie knows I’m here. The feeling that he’s ignoring me is growing stronger. I shake out the tension and sip my wine. It’s practically room temperature now, but I don’t care. I had too many glasses before I came here anyway.

  The bar grows quieter and quieter and time keeps going until my phone tells me it’s closing time. It’s just me and Maggie, although she’s in the back with Charlie now. I look around the empty bar and get the urge to go back there, but I don’t. He knows I’m here.

  After a while, Charlie and Maggie both come back out front. Charlie sees me, and a little bit of a frown crosses his face.

  “Hey, I got this,” he tells Maggie. Although he’s speaking to her, his eyes never leave mine. The way he says it makes my stomach turn.

  Maggie slides me a questioning look. “Sure thing, boss.”

  A few seconds later, the back door bangs shut as she heads out.

  Charlie and I are alone.

  “I’m supposed to be closing…” he says, walking around the bar. He sits on the barstool next to mine.

  “I know. I just… I wanted to see you. Maybe I can help you close?”

  He looks at me for a long second, then holds out his hand.

  “Come here,” he says, pulling me closer to him. I feel the air change between us, and his expression shows something I’ve never seen before.

  “You okay?” I ask him, suddenly feeling like he’s breaking up with me. Which is ridiculous, because there’s nothing to break up. Stupid girl.
I knew this would happen. I just don’t want it to happen right now. I take it all back. I won’t pressure him for anything. Just don’t leave me Charlie.

  “You like being with me?” he asks me, and I’m quick to nod my head.

  “I really do, and-” my voice is tight as I prepare for the worst.

  Before I can finish, he kisses me fiercely, spearing his hands in my long hair. His hands are everywhere, running down to touch my breasts, skimming around to touch my ass.

  He breaks the kiss, breathing heavy. Oh thank God.

  A smile full of relief is pressed against his lips as I kiss him again and again feeling as though each time brings me closer to telling him what I need. I pull his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside. He lets me. His eyes are clouded by something else and that tension is still present between us. I don’t stop though. I undo his belt, kissing down his body as I go, trying to show him how much I love being with him.

  He inhales sharply, pulling at me not to go down on him.

  I’m not about to let him stop me though, so I push against him with my body, and turn him so he’s the one facing the bar.

  Finally, he relents, helping me and his cock stands proud. Slipping my hand around it, I stroke him, wanting him to know I can give pleasure too. Just like he gave me in that coat closet.

  “Grace,” he warns, staring at me with a look like this isn’t a good idea, but I don’t stop.

  When I run my tongue from the base of his cock to the very tip, he makes a sound of pent-up longing. I take him in my mouth, inch by inch, but it isn’t enough.

  He growls and pushes my head down a little, always needing to be the one in control.

  Using my tongue against the sensitive underside of his cock, I do everything I can to give him the same kind of pleasure he gave me. Alternating between doing that and taking him deep, it's only minutes before he pulls me away.

  At my protest, he merely shakes his head. “There’s time for that later. I promise.”

  Then he pulls me to my feet, switching our positions again. He makes quick work of my dress, pulling it up over my head. I’m not wearing a bra with this dress, so my bare breasts are exposed. I bite my lip as he palms them; heat spreads through my body.