It had been a week since I went to the bar. Liam still hadn't called, but in my head, I was thinking that he was busy, or maybe his phone got hit by a car or dropped in the toilet. Another scenario could easily be that he just didn't really feel the connection between us that I had felt.
Connection. A connection has two connected spots. If one doesn't work, then it's not a connection. It's simply just a cord.
I was twenty-four years old, and I was pretty sure that the only connection I felt, was the taste of alcohol in the back of my throat that day. The connection I supposedly felt between the stranger and me, was not what I at all was making it seem like.
I was drunk, and he was after my body, not anything else. If there was a connection, it was my sexual fantasies wanting to break out, after half a year with nothing at all. He must have seen it from the other side of the bar. I must have been glowing. That would be why he tried so hard.
God, I really was desperate. Still, it was he that had tried getting me on with all those cheesy pick-up lines. Well, you had told him to continue trying to get you, all the way until you rejecting him in the cab, Elona. Impulsive, much?
Saturday was back, once again, but this time I was working my thoughts away. I wasn't in the bar looking for him; that was what Liz was doing. Not really, but she had told me she would see if he returned someday.
I had signed myself up for a shift on a Saturday evening. Needing to clear my mind, I said I could work extra. Really, I needed the money too, so it would be worth it either way.
I had had a job in the local 'Forever 21' store since I was twenty-one, which is pretty ironic. Not once had I seen him in this store though, even with the world being this small and this store so local. Until this day, and everything seemed to be either fate or hell. Until I suddenly heard a voice much like his and decided I had too much pride to let him see me like this.
Vulnerable and in danger of getting really furious of him going from cute to not going to call. That was a dick move of him, and I knew it too bad. But the real reason I didn't want him seeing me, was because I did seem desperate after him to call me, and I was sober, meaning; I didn't have the capability to talk as sassy as I did at the bar. I didn't have the capability to be the girl he got attracted to at the bar and wanted to bring home. That girl just wasn't me.
"Claire, can please take this costumer? I really need to pee," I muttered, having my back against the man walking inside the store. Liam.
He looked as hot as at the club, only more handsome since he was wearing a jacket that really made him look like the model I had believed he was and might still be. It was one of those grey, expensive coats, with the black buttons on the side, and those deep closable pockets.
Get the designer out of your head, and concentrate on getting away from this mess.
Liam had currently not seen me since I turned my back to him before he could see my face. There was a possibility that I could get out of this walk of shame if my dearest co-worker would be nice. If she would have forgotten that I just peed two minutes ago. And if also she had forgotten that she didn't at all like me.
"No way, Elona. You just got out of the bathroom, and you have the cashier today," she shouted irritated at me, before she went to the dress section, starting to clean up the mess some fifteen-year-olds just had made.
She clearly hadn't seen the guy before judging whether to do as I asked. If she had; she wouldn't have turned my suggestion down that quickly. He was the one to make heads turn, and my sweet co-worker was the young girl falling at her knees at every turn. Still, I was left hoping he wouldn't recognise me.
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The Pinkyswear
RomanceIt all started with a pinkyswear. A Saturday night, the history started, when a baby girl was born into the arms of an abused, young mother. As the broken soul heard her child's first cry, she fell in love, but she knew the child wasn't hers to kee...