I'm not sure what exactly I was expecting to see inside, but it wasn't the short bar directly off to the right with neon signs mounted on the wall around it. A pool table and a separate foosball table took up an open space to the left with beer brand lamps mounted on it. It looked like a replica of downstairs except on a smaller scale.
“Babe, take a seat and hang out for a bit, yeah?” Dex asked me.
I nodded.
“Grab a pop or whatever you want from the fridge behind the counter,” he offered. A second later he'd disappeared down a halfway off the end of the bar. Like a siren’s song, a couch pressed against the far side of the wall called me to it.
I really didn’t mean to fall asleep but with the four hours I’d gotten the night before, it was inevitable. Except all I did was dream of my mom.
~ * ~ *
“We’ll get your car tomorrow,” Dex said as we got off his bike that night after closing up Pins.
I’d been surprised that he even came back to the parlor after he’d dropped me off with Blue that afternoon. He’d left me sleeping at the bar for four hours. Four hours of sleeping on the couch with my neck twisted, my drool a little river from the corner of my mouth down my chin.
The only reason why I'd gotten up was because I felt something dabbing at my face. That "something" was a napkin Dex was holding while looking like he was trying his best not to smile.
Not cool, and when I told him just that, he threw his head back and laughed.
His laugh still unsettled me.
Work had been steady like usual until Dex showed up around nine, cool as a cucumber to tattoo his nighttime appointments. The only sign he’d given me that this day was different from every other one before spending the night at his house and spilling his guts about his family back in Austin, was when he stood behind me after tattooing a client and wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck while I typed in a follow-up appointment for him.
I tried my best not to react to his touch but this was Dex. Hot Dex. Hot Dex that screamed at scary, mean men for me. Hot Dex with a piercing in his thing. Supposedly.
God, guessing where that piercing was located was a game I had no business playing.
“What do you wanna eat for dinner?” he asked as he held a hand out to help me off his bike.
“Anything really.”
“You know how to cook?” He watched as I pulled off his helmet.
“Yeah. Do you have groceries?”
He nodded. “I have shit in the freezer.”
“I have shit in the freezer,” I repeated his words back to him, walking into the house. So eloquent. “Well, I can probably figure out something. No promises it’ll be good though.”
He shrugged, still facing forward before detouring to head in the direction of his bedroom. “Gonna shower. Make whatever you want, babe. I’m not picky.”
The stuff in his freezer wasn’t exactly shit, but compared to Sonny’s house, it was like this guy visited the grocery store once a month instead of weekly. I found cans of diced tomatoes, pasta, and dried herbs in the pantry that I set out, while a big pot of water boiled—after spending ten minutes trying to find pots that were scattered in random cabinets throughout the kitchen. For as organized as Dex made sure we kept Pins, he didn’t have the same standards at home.
“What are you makin’?” Dex asked from just a few feet behind me.
I turned to look at him over my shoulder. “Spaghetti." I gave him a little smile, taking in the worn white undershirt he'd put on. "If you want to take out some of that chicken you have in the freezer, I'll cook it."
He hummed. “Sounds good. I’ll pop the chicken in the microwave, babe. No big deal."
I smiled at him from over my shoulder. “Well, it probably won't be that good since there wasn't much to choose from in the pantry but...hopefully it won't taste like crap.”
Dumping the box of noodles that were in his cupboard into the big pot of water, I saw him pull out the freezer bag with precooked grilled chicken and set two breasts onto a plate. "I'm sure it'll be better than anythin' I can cook," he chuckled, putting the plate into the microwave and setting the timer.
“You better hope so." I made a face, stirring the pot.
He snickered.
The silence felt pretty awkward while I dealt with the food cooking. Trying to kill the tense silence, I tried to think about something to talk about. “So you’ve known Sonny for a long time?”
Dex was sitting there next to the bar with both elbows resting on the counter, hunched over it. “Ever since your pa used to drop him off with my ma durin’ club meetings.”