52. Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty

Devon

“What can I get you?” I shout over the music.

The girl holds up three fingers. “I need three Long Islands and three whiskey sours.”

“You got it,” I say, getting to work to make her drinks. I grab the three glasses for the Long Islands to get them going first. When they’re done, I make the whiskey sours, then ring her up.

“Card is on file. It’s Xander Reid,” she tells me.

I nod, adding the drinks to the tab. By the time I’m done, she’s gone with all her drinks and there’s still a ton of people crowding the bar. I move on to the next customer.

This is how it is every night I work at Pussy Cats. It’s an upscale strip club slash dance club. There are two sides. I’ve worked both, but tonight I’m on the dance club side. I haven’t decided which side I like better. They each have their pros and cons. Guys at the strip club don’t get as drunk and disorderly. But the music on this side is better and the tips are better too. Both are busy as hell. My pay is great, and I’ve made some friends. All in all, I love my job .

“You good, girly?” Mason, another bartender at the club, asks, bumping my hip with his.

“Great. You?”

“Oh, I’m wonderful, baby. Got three numbers so far tonight.” He waggles his brows.

I laugh, pouring the orange juice into the cups and adding tequila.

“Were they hot at least?” I question with a raised brow. Mason reaches by me to grab the sour mix.

“One of them looks like he could toss me around the room with his pinky finger.”

I laugh again. Pussy Cats isn’t a gay bar, but somehow Mason always ends up with more than one number when we leave shift. He isn’t the type to settle down, so he loves the attention. I’ve left more than a few times with numbers I didn’t ask for too, but they all go in the trash. I’m not interested in dating any of them. Or hooking up with them, or anything else they have in mind. They’re just a bunch of drunk guys—and girls, because I’ve gotten girls’ numbers too—not thinking straight.

“You going to call him?” I ask.

“Damn right I am!” he says. “Last hook up was boring with a capital B.”

I finish off the drinks with a splash of grenadine and hand them to the guy waiting. He hands me cash and walks away.

The rest of our night is busy as hell, as it usually is on a Friday. There are two bars on each side of the club, both with two bartenders each. It’s hectic and busy, but the tips are good no matter what. Mason is my preferred person to work with because we get along the best, but when I work with Lindsey, the tips almost double. Probably because she wears low cut shirts and the best push-up bras I’ve ever seen—in a size too small so her boobs really pop out. It’s a trick she told me I should try, but I’m not interested.

How did I think I could be a stripper? The thought is laughable now.

I liked my time on stage at the auction, but it isn’t something I’d want to do all the time. Bartending here is fun. I feel safe. I get some attention, but not too much. Most of all, I’m able to make a living. Since getting this job, I haven’t touched the rest of the money I got from the auction. My bills are paid, and I have plenty left over to do what I want with. Mason and I shop all the time. Lindsey joins us sometimes too.

I was right in thinking I needed time to settle. Everything seems so much better now that I have friends, my house is in order, a job, and I’m comfortable with the area.

I talk to Summer every day and video chat with Astrid almost every day too. Dane and I talk often. Dad calls me twice a week.

Just yesterday I received a card in the mail from Summer. She, Dane, and Astrid had family photos done, even though they still aren’t dating. She swears they won’t, and only wanted the photos for Astrid, to show her that even though they aren’t together, they can still be a family. I’m not sure I believe her, but I do love the idea she’s going for.

Dane has seemed much happier lately. And my father loves that he has a granddaughter. He even took a day off work to take her to the zoo. I couldn’t believe it.

I haven’t talked to Tate. He calls, but I ignore them. I’m not ready to talk to him yet .

I’ve forgiven him for what he did, though it wasn’t easy. It’s not in my nature to hold grudges, but I understand why he did it. I’m still hurt and upset, but I’ll admit I miss him. Even when he was mean to me for those five years, he was still there. Now he’s not. And I don’t like that. Tate hurt me because he was hurting. Because he’s had no one to show him how to deal with his feelings. That makes me sad. But I’m still sticking to my guns, which is why I won’t call him or help him through this. He needs to do it himself. I’ve forgiven him, but I will not run to him.

And maybe it helps that Dane says Tate’s absolutely miserable, and Summer mentioned that he’s harassed her a few times to demand she tell him where I live. Of course she didn’t.

Definitely makes me feel good that he’s desperately looking for me. That’s a little sadistic, I’m sure, because I know he’s upset, but at least he isn’t giving up. If he’s looking for me to apologize, something in him has changed. I’m just waiting to see how long this lasts.

It’s not that I want him to be upset for the rest of his life, but is he going to keep looking for me for a month? Two? A year? At what point does it turn into obsession? Unhealthy? Is he only doing it for himself or because he genuinely wants to apologize?

Dane said he looked rough when he went there the other day. Made a comment about how he almost didn’t walk into the house because it smelt so bad. That’s not like Tate. He’s always been clean and put together. The fact he smelled bad? I can’t even imagine how he must be feeling if he isn’t taking care of himself .

Dane also told me that Tate got some bad news about his father. I feel terrible about that and almost answered the time he called after I found out. But I can’t let that be a reason I talk to him.

I will talk to Tate again, I’m just waiting for the right time.

I’m sad and upset. I miss him. I still love him. I’m not sure I’ll ever stop loving him. How do you stop loving someone you’ve loved for as long as you can remember?

I was furious with Dane over what happened with Summer. Mad at my dad for years for the way he treated me like a child. But I still loved them, and it was easy to forgive them. My love for Tate is similar. It’s deeply rooted in me. It’ll never go away. But that doesn’t mean I can give him my heart. I don’t even have all the pieces of it to hand over if I wanted to. Each day is hard. Some days are worse than others. But each day that passes, it gets a little easier to move forward and I forgive him a little more.

My only question now is how far will he go to show me he’s sorry? As far as he went to get revenge? Further?

I may be stupid for forgiving Tate. I may be stupid for taking him back if he ever asks me to do so, but people in love aren’t usually the smartest in the bunch. But my vision is clear now. Moving away from home has opened my eyes to the world and to my life. I know what I want, and I need to do whatever it takes to make sure it happens.

Though some days I regret coming here, I’ve never felt better in my life. Yet there is still a hole in my heart that I can’t seem to fill, because what I need to fix it is nearly 700 miles away.