Let Me Love You

Meeting

WREN

I groan as light spills through my windows. I’m now regretting renting an apartment that faces east. Grasping for my phone, it’s only eight thirty in the morning. It’s Saturday, and I’m scheduled to work a double at the Tap Room, but my shift doesn’t start until three. I sigh with relief as I pull the covers over my head willing myself to get a few more hours of shut eye. Thankfully, my body give in and soon I am drifting back to sleep. It feels as though mere minutes have passed before Larry is pawing at my head, no doubt, ready for his next meal. It’s now just after eleven so I decide that I should probably begin my day. I open the fridge, which SURPRISE, is still very much empty. I decide to drink my breakfast instead and start filling my coffee pot with water. I scoop some more food into Larry’s bowl and head for the bathroom. The smell of last nights shots is beginning to make me nauseous. I strip out of my clothes as the shower heats up to my desired temperature, similar to that of molten rock. As I step in, I instantly feel my aching muscles relax. I grab my purple shampoo, making sure my blonde hair stays toned, scrub my body with my favorite vanilla body wash, and decide to shave my legs as I let my conditioner sit in my hair. This is something I’ve learned over the years to help me untangle my wavy locks. Soon I step out feeling like a brand new woman. Wrapped in towel, I make my way to the now full pot of coffee and pour myself a cup. I take it black just like my soul. I chuckle at the thought. I use to be such an upbeat and optimistic person, but life has beat me down.

I pick up my phone to see a text from Layla.

Layla: hey b***h, do you want to grab a bite to eat before work?

Remembering that I haven’t grocery shopped in two weeks, it actually sounds like a great idea.

Wren: hey hooker, I’m totally down.

Layla: hell yeah! I’ll pick your virgin ass up at 1:30 and we can head to that little bistro on 32nd that we love.

I roll my eyes. She always has to bring that up. When I first confessed that I’d never had s*x before, she looked at my as though I had seven heads. It’s not that I have this vow to god to wait until marriage to give it up or anything. That’s definitely not the case in point. I have just never been in a relationship that got as serious as to take that step. And a casual hookup to lose one’s virginity just seems… desperate? I don’t know. But now I’m a twenty four year old virgin, and the older I get, the more asinine it seems. Surly someone will stick around long enough to get the goods eventually, but until then, here I sit.

Wren: sounds good, text me when you’re on your way! :)

Ignoring her virgin comment this time, I head to my closet, coffee cup still in hand and begin the arduous task of picking out my clothes. I seriously need to update my wardrobe, too bad that cost money, something that I’m not rolling around in at the moment. I settle on a pair of distressed jean shorts, they’re a little shorter than I would like them to be, but I can not deny that they hug the curves of my ass just right. I pair them with black cropped tank that shows a small amount of my mid drift and pull on my black combat boots. Satisfied with the way it looks I plug in my curling iron and put on a light amount of make up as it heats up. After my hair is curled in soft beach waves and I’ve added some gold jewelry to my look, I get a text from Layla letting me know she’s downstairs. I say my goodbyes to Larry, grab my keys and my purse and lock the door behind me. I walk down the four flights of stairs to a waiting Layla as she yells out from the passenger side window. “DAYUM MOMMA, look at all the booty you got in them jeans, give us a spin.” I roll my eyes, adding a little sashay to my step to appease her and hop in. “You really are obnoxious, you know that right?” She laughs in agreement. “And that’s only one of the reason ya love me! Now let’s go stuff our faces.”

We park the car down about a block from the bistro, and begin the walk over. It’s a beautiful august afternoon. It’s about eighty degrees out now, and the sun feels great against my fair skin. “Want to try to grab a patio seat Lay?” I coax her, knowing that if I set the play in motion she’ll most likely agree. She nods and soon we’re being seated. Looking over the menu I order a cheese burger and fries, no doubt it’s the only real meal I’ll have eaten in at least four days. Layla of course orders some kind of salad as well as a glass of white wine. I detest lettuce, so I grimace as digs in. The greasy burger tastes like heaven on my tongue. “I can’t believe you won’t order even one glass of wine with me” Layla groans between bites of foliage. “You know I’m not big on drinking Lay.” She rolls her eyes, “ you need to lighten up and let loose every now and then Wren. How are we suppose to get you laid if you won’t take that giant stick out of your ass.” “First things first, f**k off, I do not have a stick up my ass. And secondly, I will not be having a drunken one night stand to lose my v-card.” I give her a stern look so she knows this isn’t going to be a topic of discussion anymore. As I take another bite of my burger, I hear a deep chuckle coming from the side walk. I Look over my shoulder to figure out what could possibly be so funny.

I find myself making direct eye contact with a set of piercing blue eyes. My breath hitches as I take in the sight before me. A man who looks to be in his mid twenties, he stands tall, at least six foot, but probably taller. His blue eyes pop with contrast against his tanned skin and dark brown hair that sits messily on his head in loose waves. Dark stubble covers a chiseled jaw that is plastered with a small smirk, accompanied by a set of straight white teeth. As my eyes roam down I see a dark t-shirt that is clinging to hard muscles, tight dark jeans, and a black pair of boots. Though his arms are covered with a distressed leather jacket, I can’t help but notice the tattoos that lace over his hands and neck, and a small piercing that sits around his left nostril. Before I can realize that I am basically gawking at this man, he clears his throat and I am brought back to reality. “Ya know, I can send you a picture. It will definitely last longer.” He leans over with a wink, there is a flirty playfulness to his tone that does not go unnoticed. I c**k an eyebrow at him, as my face begins to flush. “May I be as bold as to ask what’s so damn funny?” I shoot back as embarrassment takes over my pale skin. “The two of you bickering like some married couple.” He leans against a motorcycle which I can only assume belongs to him, and flicks a cigarette I am just now noticing. Before I have a chance to come back with some sort of rebuttal, he leans over the the small fence that separates the patio from the sidewalk and whispers in my ear. “I’d be willing to help with that little problem of yours.” He is so close that I can feel the warmth of his breath against the shell of my ear, sending a cold shiver down my spine. If my face didn’t already look like a cherry tomato, there is no doubt in my mind that it does now. Gaining some resolve, I stiffen and shoot my best dirty look in his direction. “No thank you, I’ve gone this far in my life without obtaining and STD, and I’d rather keep it that way.” His head falls back with a deep laugh, it sounds so warm and inviting. Even in my state of anger it sends warmth pooling in my belly. “You’re a spit fire if I’ve ever seen one, if you change your mind give me a call blonde.” He pulls out his wallet and set down a business card on the table, and with a wink and a smile he hops on his bike. “Have a nice afternoon ladies.” He revs the engine and takes off.

As I sit there, eyes wide with shock that someone could be so f*****g bold, Layla swipes the card off the table. “Nash Logan” she looks at me with a smirk. “Don’t even get you hopes up Lay. That man screams trouble, and I have no time in my life to deal with someone like that.” “Oh lighten up Wren, if you don’t want to hop on that, I’ll keep this and take him for a ride.” “Good god Layla, you need to keep it in your pants.” I say with a slight chuckle now getting back to devouring my burger that was so rudely interrupted. “And you need to take it out of your damn pants Wren. That man is LITERALLY s*x on wheels, how can you pass that up?” Rolling my eyes I choose to ignore her and finish up my burger. Soon we are finished and we make our way to the Tap Room to start opening for a busy Saturday night.

By the time we walk into work Ryan has already set up the tables, and is behind the bar taking his daily inventory. Without looking up from what he’s doing he calls over his shoulder, “hey girls, long time no see.” We head towards our lockers to unload our bags and begin getting all of the paper products ready that we’ll need tonight. The bar doesn’t serve any food, just drinks so there isn’t any cutlery to roll and for that I am grateful. I make my way to Ryan and ask if there is anything else to do before we open, and he grunts back in my direction with a curt “no”. With that Layla and I find a seat at the bar and wait for four o’clock to roll around.

Ryan McDonnell has owned the Tap Room for about ten years now. He is in his mid thirties, about six foot two, with short brown hair and a red burley beard. He is a big man, with large muscles from years of changing kegs, and heavy lifting. Ryan is definitely a bit on the intimidating side, with tattoo riddled arms, and a gruff voice, but Layla and I know better. He is a big softy when it comes to the two of us, though I know he wouldn’t hesitate to start a fight with any patron who crosses the line. He’s been great to work for all these years, and I consider him to be a great friend. He and Layla have always seemed to have a thing for one another, and while they would never admit it, I have caught them on more than one occasion slipping out of the walk in together. Rolling my eyes at the thought the door opens and as customers start making there way inside.

The shift is busy as Layla and I hop tables, with Ryan stationed at the bar pouring drinks and serving customers. By the time I have a second to myself it’s already ten o’clock. Ryan shouts from the bar for me to take a twenty minute break, and I jump at the opportunity. I sit at the end of the bar and Ryan slides me a drink. “No thank Ry, you know I don’t drink on the job.” A rule I made a long time ago was not to mix business with pleasure. “It’s not from me” he nods his head in the direction toward the opposite end of the bar. I turn to look and see what he’s gesturing to and then my eyes lock with his. Nash is sitting with a drink in his had, and a crooked smirk on his face as he lifts his drink in my direction before taking a swig. What is this guys problem? Also, why the hell is he here? Pushing the drink toward Ryan, I hop off my seat and make my way down the bar, irritation evident all over my face. “Hey Mary, did ya miss me?”