Chapter Twenty-one
Jay
“Hey, Jay? Can you give me a hand?” Ashlyn stood across the bar looking half miffed, half helpless.
“Sure. What’s up?”
“The stock room was not designed with someone of my . . . stature in mind.” Turning on her heel, Jay watched Ashlyn saunter off toward the swinging door next to the kitchen that led to the small room where all of the supplies were kept. He doubted the space was designed with more than a broom closet in mind.
Ducking under the bar, he followed after her, vaguely recounting the last time he’d followed some girl off to help her out. The door bounced off the inner wall as he pushed his way inside to find her staring up at a shelf, hands propped on her hips.
“Tell me,” she huffed without bothering to turn around, “how in the hell am I supposed to reach those straws when some idiot piled them four boxes high? The shelf is already too high to begin with. There’s no way I can—”
“Let me.” Jay nudged in front of her, cutting her off before she could really get started. The girl was a great friend to Em. But she had a bit of a fiery side that could get carried away if someone didn’t put a damper on it.
She wasn’t wrong. There wasn’t a chance in hell she could have reached the top box. Jay could barely reach it even after he’d pressed onto his toes and stretched as far as his body would go. He’d just closed his fingers around the bottom edges when a sharp gasp and a sudden flash of pain in his side told him he might have stretched too far.
“Jay!” He grunted, landing back on his heels with the box of straws in tow. Ashlyn’s eyes, which were glued to his side where his shirt now once again covered the purple bruise spanning half his waist and up to his ribs, slowly crept up to meet his. “What is that?”
“Nothing.” He shoved the box at her, but she refused to take it.
“Jay, that is not nothing. What the hell happened?”
“I bumped into something. Don’t worry about it. And, Ash . . .” A new concern wormed its way under his skin. “Don’t tell Em. Please? She’ll only get upset.”
Ashlyn pulled her lower lip between her teeth and gnawed at it until he was afraid she’d break the skin. He was putting her in a difficult position, he could appreciate that, but he knew that Em would demand an explanation, and there were some things he couldn’t tell her. Some things she was better off not knowing.
Releasing her abused lip on a sigh, Ash nodded.
“Okay. But, Jay?” She fiddled with her fingers for a moment. They’d never been particularly close, always having Em as a sort of buffer between them. Not that he didn’t like her, he’d just never been very good around people in general. She must have felt the awkward as heavily as he did, but she plowed ahead, anyway. “I’m Em’s friend, but I believe in you guys. I’m rooting for you both. I know there’s shit about you that I don’t know, and I’m not asking you to tell me, but just so you know . . . if you ever want to talk . . . I’m your friend, too.”
Jay blinked down at the short girl with pale blonde hair, chocolate brown eyes, and an uncomfortable smile. His friend? He couldn’t remember ever having a friend before. Literally, ever. Wasn’t even sure he understood the concept. He had Em, but no matter what they called themselves, she’d always be more than a friend. With her there were . . . He hesitated to call them ‘complications’, but that’s what they were. Things between them were a complicated mess.
He had some people out on the street that he trusted more than others, but he never would have been foolish enough to go as far as to call them friends. For the right price, anyone would stab you in the back out there. Skunk had proved that in the worst way possible.
There was Sam and Greg. They’d both helped him out substantially with no strings attached. Something he was still having trouble grasping, but they were both much older than him. It had made him feel like a child to need their help. But, to look at Ashlyn—someone his own age, stuck in the same kind of crap-ass job—and label her an honest-to-God ‘friend’ was something entirely new. And, if he was frank, a whole lot terrifying.
Jay had no idea how long he’d been standing there gaping at her like a creeper before she finally shot him a ‘your turn’ look. Christ, he needed to get a grip. “I know.”
Ash graced him with a genuine smile and he realized just how rare those really were for her.
“Ash?”
She’d started for the door, but paused with her hand on it to glance back over her shoulder. “Huh?”