Free On the Rocks (Pub Fiction Book 2) by Gillian Jones Page B

pouts.
    “Oh, man, tell me about it. I can’t wait to get home and crawl into bed. My feet are killing me too,” I say, slipping off the super cute black-heeled booties I’d bought thinking they’d go well with the short black uniform shorts. Wrong! Super painful is more like it.
    “Listen, you did great again tonight. You’re a natural, the regulars love you already.”
    “Thanks, Brooke, that means a lot.” I rifle through my bag for a change of shoes, which I’m so sad to discover I’ve left at home. I tuck my tip money safely inside. “You weren’t kidding about the tips being crazy good, I think I made over a hundred bucks tonight,” I share, before taking my bus pass out of my wallet, placing it between my teeth, and tucking my wallet back in. I never pull my wallet out in public; I can thank Grams for that little public service safety lesson.
    “Sorry I can’t drive you home tonight, Braun. I feel awful. I wish you’d talk to Levi about driving you. I’m more than positive he lives right around you.”
    Removing the bus pass from my teeth, I place it beside me as I continue to search in vain for my sweater.
    Shit, what the hell is wrong with me?
    No sweater and no shoes. I’m going to freeze in this stupid tight ass t-shirt and short shorts. Yeah, I said “ass”. “Nah, I’m okay. Please don’t worry, I’m used to the bus. It’s a twenty-minute ride and the stop is literally right in front. It’s no big deal.” Brooke shakes her head and furrows her brows, clearly not liking my response. “Besides you’ve been my chauffeur most nights anyway, so taking the bus tonight will be like connecting with my old friends.”
    “Well, take a cab. You said yourself you made good tips tonight, so use some of that money. Plus you said your feet hurt. You’ll only hurt your feet more walking home from the stop, you’ve clearly forgotten your other shoes,” Brooke busts me as I put the killer shoes back on.
    “You’re so cute, Brooke, but please get going, I’m fine. You guys have a long drive ahead of you. Be sure to have a great time tomorrow at the baby shower. I can’t wait to see pics, Auntie Brooke,” I coo.
    I’ve yet to tell them about Emmerson, I’m not sure why—but I’m lying by omission. I haven’t told them because I need to make sure she’s protected at all times. I can’t just go around letting every new person I meet into her world. It’s hard enough for me to do that myself, because I fear any happy feelings I might be having could fall out from under me at any time. So that must be why.
    Since I started working here, Brooke and I have become fast friends. I’ve been doing an excellent job at letting my walls down bit-by-bit with Brooke. We’ve exchanged phone numbers, gone for coffee, and we’ve got plans for a girl’s night out in a couple of weeks from now. I’ve even introduced her to London, which is a huge step for me. I just hope that when she finds out about Emmerson she understands my reasons for not sharing the biggest part of my life with her right away.
    “Okay, but I’m telling you if Levi or Luke ever catch on that you’re taking the bus alone, they are gonna lose their minds up in here, up in here,” she sing-songs before blowing me a kiss and walking out the door.
    Speaking of Levi, holy Toledo, has that man been on my mind and in my space like crazy since our training day. It seems whenever I work so does he, if I’m in the storage room so is he, and I cannot lie, I kind of like the feeling I get when he’s nearby. It’s a feeling I rarely recognize, a feeling that is scarily growing into a word I don’t utter often when speaking about other humans, but for some reason I feel it growing with Levi, and that’s trust .
    More and more, I’m trusting him, and to be honest it’s freaking me out. Then there are the crazy tummy flutters the guy gives me. I swear my butterflies are so glad the hiatus is over that they’re celebrating extra hard.