Delude | h.s.

twenty seven

And I'll do anything you say
If you say it with your hands
Treacherous - Taylor Swift

♤

Layne

"Layne, will you please get me a tray of slammers, please?" Nicole asks from the other side of the bar.

I'm in the middle of filling a glass with draft beer. My eyes flicker up to hers and I nod, "yeah. Will you give this to table twenty?"

"Yes, ma'am, I will. Thank you!" She calls as she walks away with the beer.

I grab a tray from under the counter. It has four slots engraved in the wood that fit the shot glasses perfectly. I place the glasses in the slots and begin filling them halfway with 7-Up. I fill the rest with tequila and carefully mix them. Nicole walks up to the bar and I'm about to tell her that I need limes from the kitchen, but she places a bowl of them next to the tray.

"You already knew what I was gonna ask," I say as I place the lime wedges on the tray.

"Of course, I did. This is my bar, I know everything." She jokes.

I chuckle at her response and put the empty bowl in the dish tub. She thanks me as she walks away with the tray of shots.

A pair of men at the other end of the bar get up and wave goodbye. I wave at them and thank them for coming in. I wring out the towel in the sanitizer water under the bar and make my way over to where they were sitting. I take their glasses and place them in the dish tub. I take the rag and wipe down the area.

Over the past couple days, I've been thinking about things with Harry. I haven't heard from him since he dropped me off, which I think is a good thing. After I got home on Tuesday, I put on a record and decorated my apartment a bit. I was trying to get my mind off the situation, but it didn't work. I thought about it the entire time.

Why was I bothered by his response?

I couldn't answer that question. I had no idea why. It didn't make any sense because he was right – we're friends. I should be thankful that he even considers me his friend; he barely considers his actual friends his friends.

Not to mention the fact that I got out of a relationship less than two weeks ago – a four-year relationship at that. That thought already crossed my mind when we were driving home, I just need it to stick.

Maybe I keep forgetting about that because it was over for me way before we actually ended things.

When I was done decorating on Tuesday, I came to the conclusion that being Harry's friend is exactly what I want to be right now. I shouldn't be disappointed because he called me his friend; I should be grateful, and I am. If something comes out of whatever Harry and I are doing, great. If not, oh, well.

I also don't want us to stop whatever we're doing either because I only got a taste on Monday night, and I'm already craving the rest of what he has to offer. I've never been so turned on by a kiss alone. I can't even begin to imagine how he'd make me feel with his mouth in other places.

"Well, well, well," the deep voice of a man catches my attention and I look up from where I'm wiping the bar. My eyes meet the sea blue eyes of Luke. "Isn't it my favorite bartender."

His smile is so contagious; I can't stop a grin from spreading across my face.

I entertain his comment and tilt my head. I look up at the ceiling and place my hand under my chin, sarcastically presenting myself to him.

He laughs at me and takes a seat next to where I just cleaned. "How've you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in years."

I furrow my brows, "Didn't I see you last weekend?"