Under Summer Sky • Zarry

30. We need to talk

Marco woke me up around half passed four in the morning once he got home from Stella's. I had been snoozing away, fast asleep on his comfortable sofa still hours after the movie ended, and Zayn was nowhere to be seen by then. Drowsily, I forced myself out of the blanket cocoon I had made and pulled my phone out of my back pocket, only to see that Silas had never called me or texted me that whole night. 

How out of character for him.

I was now beginning to feel a bit worried that he was really upset with me or even worse, that something bad had happened to him, and suddenly Silas was back in my brain. My chest became heavy as I exited out the front door of Marco and Adrienne's house and walked towards my parked Ford Capri out on the street.

I called him repeatedly, but he never answered me. 

The apprehension of the situation ate away at me all morning long as I slept in, tossing and turning in our bed that became even more uncomfortable by the passing second. And by the time I finally woke up in the early afternoon my phone was ringing. 

It was Silas. 

"Hey! Are you okay?" I asked, abruptly sitting up in bed. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. We all went out and got drinks after the conference at the hotel bar, and we had a late night. Well...late for me. I was waiting for you to call me, actually, but I fell asleep by the time you finally checked in."

I shifted a bit where I sat, now feeling remorseful for not having called him earlier. "I'm sorry. You usually text or ring me first," I explained.

"I know, but it would have been nice for you to initiate the conversation every now and then," he countered, sighing. "But it's fine. I'll be home later."

He didn't seem too happy with me and I frowned, feeling much worse. "I'm working at seven. Will you be back before then?" 

"Probably not. So...I guess I'll see you later."

"Okay..." I replied slowly, and he hung up on me without saying I love you.

That was a bad sign.

* * * * * 

I stood behind the bar now with Liz that night in my tight, black skinny jeans, tan chelsea boots and a sheer white blouse, half unbuttoned, counting endless bottles of liquor for inventory as the regular Saturday crowd starting filtering in. I eyed the new co-manager, David, as he moved across the lounge carrying heavy boxes of the Absolut shipment and felt thankful that he was so heavily muscled because I loathed lifting all those boxes every week.

So far I came to the conclusion that David seemed pretty cool. He was attractive, a little on the shorter side, half Hispanic with a short brunette buzzcut and exotic, stormy grey eyes. David was certainly a hard worker and quite serious about his job, as well as a former member of the Army. 

Someone that definitely seemed like he could run shit. 

It eased a lot of my stress as I worked through the early night, just knowing that he was taking care of half the work load. I continued on quietly checking off boxes and jotting down numbers in pencil on the inventory list quietly to myself, saying nothing, when Liz then hip-bumped me in her tight, jean shorts and knocked me off focus, grinning as I dropped the clipboard on the bar top.

"Do you mind?" I asked tensely.

"Why are you so uptight for? You haven't made one dad joke. I'm concerned," she tantalized playfully, drumming her long, red nails against one of the empty glasses.

"Relationship problems," I muttered. 

Liz wrapped her arm around my waist. "Trouble in paradise, baby?"