“A bachelorette party and a bachelor party on a Thursday night? They connected?”
“Yes and no. We don’t know either. They just showed up, and you can figure out the rest.” I take the cash from the girl in front of me and ring it up.
“Why didn’t you call? I would have come earlier. You were supposed to finish at nine, weren’t you?”
My eyes flick to him as I run the order through. “Really, Donny? Look around you. You think we’ve had time to call you?”
“I’ve been holding my piss for three hours,” Rosie grumbles, appearing next to him.
Donny sighs. “Okay, girls. Ro, you go use the bathroom. Liv, you can go home when she gets back, all right, hon?”
I meet Tyler’s gaze at the end of the bar. “Believe me. That’s all right with me.”
“New squeeze?” Donny asks, following my eyes.
“Now, Donny. You know better than to mix personal and professional lives.” I wink, laughing inside at the irony of my statement, and pour one last drink.
Rosie comes back and hugs me tight. “Thanks for staying. You’re doing the long shift tomorrow, right?”
I groan. “Yep. And I’m putting a fucking sign on the door banning all bachelorette and bachelor parties.”
I leave to her laughter. I get my coat from the back and grab Tyler’s hand on my way through the mass of people in the bar. Stepping outside, I take a deep breath. Oh, fresh air. Oh, space to breathe. How I’ve missed you.
“Your car’s in the parking lot.”
“I went to gym after the shoot. Worked off that takeout.” I dump my coat in the back despite the freezing temperature. “Sorry. Forgot.”
Tyler smiles and cups my face, brushing his thumbs across my cheeks. “You look exhausted, baby girl.”
“I’ve been there since two without a break.” I yawn. “Then running around like that for four hours. I’m beat.”
He kisses my forehead, sending a thrill through me. “Stay over tonight. To sleep.”
I shake my head. “I’m trusting you, but not that much.”
“Okay,” he acquiesces. “Did you get Dayton’s text earlier?”
“No, and I don’t think I want to.”
He laughs. “She’s cooking dinner for us all tomorrow night.”
“I’m working,” I smile weakly. “I have Saturday night off, but I’m doing the long shift. I won’t finish until one tomorrow morning.”
“Even though you just worked two extra hours?”
“Welcome to the world of bartending, honey. I’m gonna go home, eat, sleep, then repeat. Okay? Have fun at dinner tomorrow.” I yawn again and open my car door.
Tyler captures my lips with his in a swift movement. “Dinner will be Saturday night. Then you’re mine.”
I really did spend all of Friday in bed. I slept, ate, then headed into work. I worked my little ass off before going home and collapsing into bed at two a.m.
Now, however, I’m slumped over Dayton’s sofa, watching her compare fabric swatches to get the right tablecloth color.
And I couldn’t give a flying monkey if ivory and champagne and off-white are completely different. I want more coffee and another few hours of sleep.
“Liv, you are the worst bridesmaid ever.”
“You’re the worst bride ever,” I retort, sitting up with a huff. “It’s easy, Day. Your color scheme is white with champagne and pink. Your chair sashes are champagne and your centerpiece is a mixture of both but predominantly pink. Just have plain, old white for the table cloths. It’ll make the rest stand out better.”
She looks at me and the fabric. And back again. And back again. “I take it back. You’re the best bridesmaid ever. You’re a fucking genius.”
“That’s what they say,” I mumble, lying back down and closing my eyes. I yawn and snuggle into my hood.
“Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”
“Dinner,” I mumble again. “Just need coffee.”
“Wow, is Tyler that good?” She laughs.
“I’ve done two long shifts. But if you really must know, yes, he is.”
So good that my supposed full night’s sleep last night ended up with a vibrator intervention at three a.m. I need to get that man to tie me to a bedpost—stat. These dreams are making my clit insanely achy.
“Here.” She waves a steaming mug of coffee under my face, and I force my eyes open. If only I could drink from a mug sitting down. I need a sippy cup when I’m this tired.
I shove myself up into a sitting position and hug the mug. “I’m not sleeping great,” I admit.