Scratch

Twenty-Three

"What can I get you?" Freen slowed her buffing of the counter when the woman's hands came to block the way, her perfectly manicured nails scraping the wood.

"Whatever you're serving..." The woman was rather stunning as she gave Freen a sly smile, her make-up as perfect as her nails. "Maybe something..." She paused and leaned back, her mocha hair falling over revealed shoulders, and tilted her head as she gave Freen a solid up-and-down. "Something sleek and steamy, perhaps."

Freen smirked out of habit, knowing well when she was being flirted with. And rather aggressively at that! "Here, try this..." She grabbed two shot glasses from under the counter and grabbed a bottle of amber liquid off the shelf behind her. Flipping the bottle, she poured them each a shot and grimaced as she swallowed her own. It burned all the way down her throat. She watched as the stranger followed her example and judging by the look on her face, she had the same experience. "Yeah..." Freen chuckled, then held up the bottle for the woman to view. "Another?"

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" The woman chuckled in return. "Either way, the answer is yes."

So Freen poured them another round and as the liquid scorched her insides once more, Freen was wishing she could just get smashed instead of having to be responsible. "I'm done now, but I can give you another if you want." She offered.

"It's not the alcohol I want you to give me." Her laughter was nearly sinful and Freen grinned.

She'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the attention, and normally she would have had the woman in her bed in about two hours' time. However, her mind was annoyingly preoccupied by a certain young little lady and she felt frustrated with herself over the fact. Why was she allowing Becky to cockblock her even from miles away? She could feel her fragile grip on her control over her emotions slipping for Becky. "Yeah well, I'll give you my name at least. I'm Freen." She held her hand out to the woman across the counter from her.

"Nita." She responded and latched onto Freen's hand with her own, holding on firmly as she rubbed her thumb over the top. "Are you always this difficult?"

"Difficult? How so?" Freen tried to loosen her hand and take it back gently, but it remained ensnared, now within both of Nita's hands.

"You give the interested eyes, the sexy smile, and then the cold shoulder. Can't you see I'm trying to entice you here?" This woman sure was bold. But aggressively so and not in the both sexy and endearing way that Becky was, Freen thought.

"And what makes you think I don't already have someone waiting at home?" Freen arched one brow high in question.

"Oh honey, don't pretend you're the type..." Nita shook her head and chuckled at what she considered to be absolute bullshit coming from Freen's mouth. "Besides, you're way too hot to be played with by just one person."

Something inside Freen's head clicked just then - why not? Why couldn't she stick to just Becky? It doesn't have to be some scary permanent thing. It's not like they're getting married. Freen knew she simply had to just remind herself to take it one day at a time. The only difference is she would have the chance to start each new day with Becky, if that's what she wanted. Then the thought of Becky made her feel warm. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Regardless, Freen was missing Becky and she wanted to see her, not this random woman, no matter how beautiful she was.

"Well if you don't want to believe what I tell you, I guess I'll have to start making it obvious, unfortunately." Freen smiled politely, but firmly forced her hand from where it was still trapped within Nita's hands.

It was a minute too late. Freen didn't notice Becky hanging around the door across the room, then silently exited without Freen even knowing Becky was ever there.

______________________________________

/"Please talk to me?"/
It was already Freen's fifth attempt at trying to get Becky to answer her through text. By now Freen was home from her shift and it was late. She knew Becky was probably asleep, but it was so hard to let go of the hope that maybe she'd respond.

/"I'm so sorry, Beck... I swear I'll make it up to you."/
Freen sent her last message, painfully unaware of the newest, and worst, reason Becky was so dreadfully upset with her.