I figured I could relax a little, maybe even have a bit of fun flirting with her. But then, she started to flirt back, and I came to see that the way she makes me feel is not one sided. That makes it harder. Much harder.
What I wouldn’t have given to take her home with me, show her who I really am and fuck her all night long. I can’t do that though. I can’t let her in.
I shake my head a little, trying to push the thoughts of Callie from my mind. I have to be focused on the task at hand. I tell myself there will be no more flirting. I’ll be friendly to Callie, but that’s it. Anything else is off the table. No matter how hard keeping it that way might turn out to be.
Chapter Five
Callie
Things seem to have changed between Matt and me. After that first day, where the chemistry between us was sizzling hot, I went into work the next day expecting, well I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting. Something. Something very different than what I got.
It felt like Matt had put up a wall. Not a wall to keep me out entirely, but a wall that said our flirtations and the chemistry between us was out of bounds. He went from being the hot stranger to the guy I shared the train ride home with and somehow, somewhere over the week, I started to think of him as a friend.
We were scheduled on the closing shift together, and each night we were the only two left by the time we pulled the shutter down on the restaurant. Technically, as I had been there longer, I was the senior member of staff, but Matt took the job of performing the nightly security checks seriously and I let him do it.
We’d catch the train every night and laugh and joke and tease each other on the way home until my stop rolled around. I had managed to convince myself that I wasn’t attracted to Matt. It wasn’t entirely true, but I’d gotten what I wanted. A way to avoid the obvious chemistry between us and the complications of dating someone I worked with.
The first night we were alone together, my stomach was a rolling pit of need. I kept thinking Matt would try to kiss me. I kept asking myself whether or not I’d let him if he did. Tonight, there’s no such thought in my mind as I say goodbye to the last table of stragglers and close the door behind them. I lock it and turn to Matt, pressing my back to the door and wiping fake sweat from my brow.
He laughs at my theatrics.
I grab the mop from him. “You go and grab our stuff and check the back door and I’ll finish up the last bit of floor,” I say.
“Yes, boss,” he says, snapping off a salute.
I shake my head as he leaves the restaurant floor. I can’t help but watch the way his ass ripples inside of his trousers as he strides across the floor. I mean there’s no harm in looking right? He moves out of sight and I quickly wipe down the last table and finish the floor. I empty the mop bucket out and just as I’m pulling the cleaning supplies cupboard door closed, Matt appears.
He smiles and holds out my coat. I slip it on and he hands me my bag. “Ready?” he asks.
“More than ready,” I reply.
We lock up and set off towards the station.
“Have you got any plans for the weekend?” Matt asks.
“I’m going to a party tomorrow night,” I say. “Then Saturday I’ll spend hungover and dying, then I’m back to work Saturday night. I honestly can’t believe I’ve got tomorrow night off. You have no idea how many parties and events I’ve had to miss because Marco seems determined to ruin my social life by having me chained to the restaurant every weekend night.”
“Maybe he just wants a pretty face to pull the crowds in on a weekend.” Matt grins.
I playfully slap his arm, although my cheeks color at his compliment. “Don’t let the other waitresses hear you say that.” I laugh.
“Oh, I won’t. I don’t particularly need a lawsuit right now,” he says.
“Maybe next week?” I laugh.
“Yeah, maybe. I’ll check my planner and see if I have an opening.” He chuckles.
“What about you? Do you have plans?” I ask.
“No,” he says. “I expected to be working being the new guy and all that. Mind you, I’m in for a double shift Saturday and the same again Sunday, so it’s not like I’m getting off easily.”
“Ouch,” I say.
“Yeah exactly,” he agrees.
The train arrives and we get on then show the inspector our tickets.
“So tell me about this drunken college party,” Matt asks as the inspector walks away.
“Well, it’s pretty much as you described it. Our dorm parties usually get broken up pretty quickly, but this one is being thrown by a friend of mine who is in a house share off campus. He only has one neighbor and they’re away for the weekend, so I reckon this one might last past eleven.”
“Make sure it doesn’t go past twelve though,” Matt warns. “I’d hate to hear you’d turned back into a pumpkin.”
“I think the story goes that Cinderella turns back into a slave girl and her carriage becomes a pumpkin,” I say.
“Same thing.” He shrugs.
“Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d left a party with only one shoe,” I say. “But strangely, no prince has ever come
