do here today. Fuck, I’m feeling it. Pass me a beer. I think I’m in major fucking need of a hair of the dog to shake this shit off.”
Instead of a beer, Luke hands me a bottle of Advil and a glass of some crazy green-looking shit.
“What the fuck is this, dude? Like hell am I drinking one of your voodoo workout hippyshit concoctions.” I place it back in front of him on the bar, shaking my head. “I don’t care how good you say it’ll make me feel.”
“Just drink it, pussy boy. It’s the hair of the dog, modern Lukey-style. Trust me, it will make you feel a hella better, hella fast,” he assures me, sliding it closer. “Take it, the box, and the checklist to your office. By the time you’ve read the list, the powers of my ‘voodoo’ will have you back to your asshole self in no time,” he laughs while handing me the box, along with the drink on top. “It has kale in it.”
“Great. Even better.”
“I’ll start up front here, checking all the fire extinguishers and WHMIS forms and whatever else it says here in the fire and safety sections.” He gestures to the papers scattered on the bar. “When the others arrive, if you’re not ready, I’ll just assign them each a few small jobs in the meantime. We got this, boss, go figure that shit out and get yourself feeling better.”
With that, I nod. “Thanks, man, I appreciate it, even if you’re trying to kill me and take over my life with your…drinks” I raise the glass before heading back to my office where, thank fuck, it’s dark and quiet. At this point, I decide I might as well drink the death mix ’cause it sure as hell can’t make me feel any worse.
Chapter 17
Braunwyn
A fter Luke shared that Levi was in his office getting a few things sorted, he thanked us for coming then quickly assigned us tasks. My job was to straighten out the storage room, a job I happily accepted, as today is a rough day for me.
Today is the anniversary of when Shawn and I moved in together, so being asked to work was a good distraction. Being given a quiet room to myself was an even better one. I’d managed to keep busy the rest of the weekend with schoolwork and hanging out with my Little Miss, anything to distract my wandering mind. But Grams and Emmerson were off at the movies today, so I could have easily just sat in my room all day, torturing myself, thinking about all the shoulda-woulda-coulda’s like I do each year, so work is a welcome trade off. Might as well get paid for my bad mood right? Plugging in my iPod, I select my favourite playlist and get to work.
After re-labelling the shelves, I move on to opening boxes of replacement bar garnishes, including jars of maraschino cherries, cartons of those little drink umbrellas, stir sticks, and straws. I inventory them all, then place them in their proper spots, neat and tidy.
Just as I’m about to open the last box, my favourite song comes on. I turn it up, my hips and legs moving to the beat of their own accord. A few hot tears stream down my face as I dance to the words blaring from the small speakers. I’m not sure if they’re tears of sadness or tears of joy, because for the first time since this anniversary has come and gone over the last four years, I don’t feel a fraction of the heaviness in my heart that I usually do. It’s a feeling that I bask in as I continue to dance in the storage room at Pub Fiction.
An image of Levi comes into my mind as I swing my hips to the heavy music, before finishing off my performance with a twirl. And that’s when I feel it. Him . Not only is he overtaking my mind, but as I turn around I’m met with Levi himself, and he looks as beautiful standing before me as he did in my mind only a second ago. Like he knew I needed him near me. Like I needed a friend right now. However, watching the way he’s taking me in, the last thing I want from him is his friendship.
“Levi,” I say, meeting his gaze.
“Braunwyn,” he counters in a deep timbre while
Instead of a beer, Luke hands me a bottle of Advil and a glass of some crazy green-looking shit.
“What the fuck is this, dude? Like hell am I drinking one of your voodoo workout hippyshit concoctions.” I place it back in front of him on the bar, shaking my head. “I don’t care how good you say it’ll make me feel.”
“Just drink it, pussy boy. It’s the hair of the dog, modern Lukey-style. Trust me, it will make you feel a hella better, hella fast,” he assures me, sliding it closer. “Take it, the box, and the checklist to your office. By the time you’ve read the list, the powers of my ‘voodoo’ will have you back to your asshole self in no time,” he laughs while handing me the box, along with the drink on top. “It has kale in it.”
“Great. Even better.”
“I’ll start up front here, checking all the fire extinguishers and WHMIS forms and whatever else it says here in the fire and safety sections.” He gestures to the papers scattered on the bar. “When the others arrive, if you’re not ready, I’ll just assign them each a few small jobs in the meantime. We got this, boss, go figure that shit out and get yourself feeling better.”
With that, I nod. “Thanks, man, I appreciate it, even if you’re trying to kill me and take over my life with your…drinks” I raise the glass before heading back to my office where, thank fuck, it’s dark and quiet. At this point, I decide I might as well drink the death mix ’cause it sure as hell can’t make me feel any worse.
Chapter 17
Braunwyn
A fter Luke shared that Levi was in his office getting a few things sorted, he thanked us for coming then quickly assigned us tasks. My job was to straighten out the storage room, a job I happily accepted, as today is a rough day for me.
Today is the anniversary of when Shawn and I moved in together, so being asked to work was a good distraction. Being given a quiet room to myself was an even better one. I’d managed to keep busy the rest of the weekend with schoolwork and hanging out with my Little Miss, anything to distract my wandering mind. But Grams and Emmerson were off at the movies today, so I could have easily just sat in my room all day, torturing myself, thinking about all the shoulda-woulda-coulda’s like I do each year, so work is a welcome trade off. Might as well get paid for my bad mood right? Plugging in my iPod, I select my favourite playlist and get to work.
After re-labelling the shelves, I move on to opening boxes of replacement bar garnishes, including jars of maraschino cherries, cartons of those little drink umbrellas, stir sticks, and straws. I inventory them all, then place them in their proper spots, neat and tidy.
Just as I’m about to open the last box, my favourite song comes on. I turn it up, my hips and legs moving to the beat of their own accord. A few hot tears stream down my face as I dance to the words blaring from the small speakers. I’m not sure if they’re tears of sadness or tears of joy, because for the first time since this anniversary has come and gone over the last four years, I don’t feel a fraction of the heaviness in my heart that I usually do. It’s a feeling that I bask in as I continue to dance in the storage room at Pub Fiction.
An image of Levi comes into my mind as I swing my hips to the heavy music, before finishing off my performance with a twirl. And that’s when I feel it. Him . Not only is he overtaking my mind, but as I turn around I’m met with Levi himself, and he looks as beautiful standing before me as he did in my mind only a second ago. Like he knew I needed him near me. Like I needed a friend right now. However, watching the way he’s taking me in, the last thing I want from him is his friendship.
“Levi,” I say, meeting his gaze.
“Braunwyn,” he counters in a deep timbre while
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