“What kind of dude would I be if I didn’t care about Paige’s health and safety? Not one my mama would be proud of.”
“Murray? Shut up.”
I don’t know if I just didn’t consider everyone would find out it or if I didn’t care. Par for the course because I obviously didn’t think the entire premise of Paige staying with me out too much either.
Either way, I wasn’t ready for this to come up in conversation.
Blowing out a breath, I lean against the cooler. Murray faces me on the other side of the kitchen and waits. Bastard.
“Is she staying with you permanently? Like, are you guys now a thing—”
“No. It’s not like that. We’re friends. I’m just helping her out like I would you.”
“I hope to God you wouldn’t do things to me that I bet you’re doing to her late at night.”
“Murray,” I warn.
He chuckles. “So you’re friends. I’m supposed to believe that?”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you believe. It’s none of your business.”
“True. It’s not. But I will say that I’m glad you let her stay with you. I’m not surprised because that’s the kind of guy you are. And Paige, well, Paige is probably safer with you than any of the savages she usually entertains.”
I shove off the cooler and pick up a box of to-go condiments. “I didn’t know you cared so much when it came to Paige. As much hell as you give her, I thought you hated her.”
“Sometimes I do.” He picks up another box and follows me into the storeroom. “She’s just … I don’t know. When she’s here, you can’t get away from her. She has her hands in everything, and once she gets an idea in her head, you can’t tell the girl no.”
Don’t I know it.
My body aches from fighting that very thing—from fighting her. I’ve never experienced this before, this inability to satisfy an urge. Especially when the urge wants to satisfy me too.
It takes everything I have to remind myself repeatedly, hourly, that I made the right call. I can’t give in and level up our relationship from a friendship to … whatever it would be because it would be a disaster in the making. The next person I see will be with the intention of making it forever. That’s not Paige’s modus operandi. She told me as much.
Part of what she said stayed with me throughout another mostly sleepless night.
I’ve never seen anything that lasted forever. I don’t even have a baby picture of me. So why should I buy into the idea that anything can last forever?
And I also know that if I did try something with her, if—when—things ended, I’d lose our friendship. Because if I couldn’t have her at that point, there’s no way in hell I could watch some other dude have her. I’d have to exile her from my life.
That whole scenario pisses me off already.
Murray chuckles. “But you can’t really hate Paige.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean, she’s hot. She’s hilarious. She does a damn good job here even though I’d never tell her that.”
I look at him curiously.
“And she’s nice. I mean that.” He pulls his brows together, forming a bunch of wrinkles in his forehead. “She’s super helpful, and she’d give you the shirt off her back. There’s something I’d like to see,” he says, chuckling and nearly getting himself punched in the face by me. “But she’s also solid. Like, old-school she’d go to jail for you if she loved you. You know?”
“Yeah.”
He grins. “You’re saying yeah a lot today.”
“Yeah—shut up.” I shake my head. “Put that box over there by the rice.”
I set the condiments on a shelf next to the cherry syrup.
“Shit. I forgot to make an order of onion rings. Be right back,” he says, jetting by me on the way to the kitchen.
What the hell? Murray can blab the hell on about Paige like he’s a fucking psychologist, but the man can’t remember to order onion rings?
I groan. I can’t keep doing this.
Why does it have to be so hard?
I take a deep, heavy breath and try to release some of the pressure building in my chest.
“Just hold yourself together,” I mutter, running a hand down my jaw. “She’ll be out of there before I know it.”
The thought creates a pang in the center of my chest. I shrug out of it as fast as I can.
Footsteps refocus my attention and I look up to see Murray stick his head in the doorway.
“Onion rings are done and so am I,” he says. “You need anything else from me before I leave?”
“I don’t know. Did you do the check-off list after your shift?”
“Yes, boss.”
I roll my eyes. “Did you bleach the sink?”
“Yes.”
“Did you restock everything?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Did you sweep the kitchen and see if the bar needs anything before you go?”