Page 30 of Icy Pour

But this is his dream, and I’m here to support it. I fill the ice bins as a chill runs up my spine. Could this be my dream too? My future? Could he be my future?

We’ve gone out in public here and there, mostly to grab breakfast at Millie’s Diner. He’s not had another freak-out like he did after the game. He’s been the same guy eating there as he is at the kitchen table in the apartment. He always chats it up with Millie and her husband between demolishing a plate of pancakes and reading the newspaper. I smile at the normal, everyday life that exists when it doesn’t seem like a thing in the world fazes him. Maybe that’s a good sign?

It still doesn’t stop the constant twist in my stomach knowing that man may be secretly spiraling and could run at the drop of a hat. Funny thing is…he thinks I’m going to leave him if he runs scared. What he doesn’t know is the only place I’ll be running is chasing after him. Our eyes connect across the bar as he walks back to the office and my heart races in my chest faster than an Alabama Football running back racing toward the end zone.

He’s all I want.

Finishing the bar prep, my fingers drum against the counter. Fuck it. I push off the bar top and walk to grab the vodka myself.

I have no idea how to help someone get over their own fears to find the happiness they deserve. All I can do is keep reminding him that I’m here and I’m his.

“Hey, can we talk?”

He narrows his brows. “Why does that phrase always make me think bad news is coming?”

I chuckle. “Not everything’s bad. Would ya stop being so pessimistic?”

“Well…” He sets his pen down and folds his hands. “Is this good news or bad news?”

I shrug. “Neither. It’s just news, boss.”

He drops his shoulders. “Fine. What’s up?”

“A couple of friends from the factory are gonna be stopping by tonight. We’ve been trying to find a time we were all free for drinks, but since I’m here every night, I told them we could catch up at the bar. I wanted to give you a heads up that”—I clear my throat—“that they know about me. They know I’m gay.”

He doesn’t blink. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So…um…what do we do?”

“I thought we could announce I’m fucking you in the ass to the entire bar.”

His eyes widen, nearly popping out of his skull. “What?!”

I can’t hold back my laughter. “Calm down. It was a joke. Listen”—I walk behind his chair, wrapping my arms around his shoulders—“we don’t have to tell them anything. They don’t need to know you’re anything more than the owner of the bar. But”—I place a quiet kiss on his neck—“if you’re making eyes at me all night and dragging me into the backroom, those two will pick up on it. Especially Sandy. She’s observant and nosy as all get out.”

His arms tense. “Are they…you know…are they discreet?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested they come here if they weren’t. They’re good folks. I wanted to let you know so you weren’t shocked if they made a comment about me. Sandy and I were both on the hunt for a man, so we were always trying to find one for each other. I know she’s gonna walk in and see your fine ass and either suggest it for herself or me.”

He twists his head to try and see me. “You’re telling me your friend is going to be checking me out?”

I move around to the front of the chair to straddle his lap. “Yep. And I’m gonna be quick to let her know you’re taken.”

That same pink blush I’ve come to love makes an appearance on either side of his crooked smile, and I nearly melt at the sight.

“Taken, huh?”

“When are you going to get it through this thick flannel shirt of yours? I. Don’t. Want. Anyone. Else. And I hope…you don’t want you with anyone else either.”

“I only want you.”

“Then kiss me, you idiot, before we have a damn bar full of people.”

“If I had known you made an old fashioned this good, I’d have been here every night for the past week!” Sandy shouts, tipping her glass my way as her and Rich sit at the bar.

“Nice place, Johnny. I still can’t believe you found this job the same day they laid us all off. Took me a few weeks, but I finally got a maintenance job over at SC Johnson down in Racine. I start next week.” He takes a sip of his beer. “It’s been hell not knowing if I could afford to put food on the table.”