Read Online Roommates (Soulmates #1) by Hazel Kelly - Free Book Online
Authors: Hazel Kelly
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shrugged.
"Is he being moody?"
"No.” I took a deep breath. “He's fine. But just so you
know, Ed never told him I was coming, and I don't think Ethan ever gave him
permission to copy his key. So he was kind of ticked at first."
Silence.
"Mom?"
"I didn’t realize that was the situation. That must’ve been
awkward for you."
"Yeah."
"Was Ethan really upset?"
I bit the inside of my cheek. "Honestly, I think he expects
that kind of thing from Ed at this point. I wouldn’t bring it up anyway."
"Mmm. I thought Ed was mellowing out, but maybe he's not
quite as far along as I thought."
"Everything's fine otherwise. His place is really nice.
He's… tidy."
"That's good to hear."
"And I probably won't have to cramp his style for much
longer."
"I'm sure you're not cramping his style."
"I'm trying not to.”
"Well, I'll call to check on you soon.”
“Okay.”
“Give Ethan a hug for me."
"Sure," I said.
As if I could stop at a hug.
Chapter 14: Ethan
I liked working at the club early in the week.
It was a different crowd, an arguably cooler crowd than the
hoards that nearly busted the door down to get in at the weekend.
I didn’t know if it was cause we got more freelance, hipster
types in or what, but for some reason, the people that could party late on
Monday and Tuesday seemed a more mellow bunch.
What's more, not only could I actually have some banter with my
coworkers while we poured drinks, but people were less likely to be on drugs so
I was able to carry on more interesting conversations with the customers.
Once Thursday night rolled around, though, it was too busy to
think, much less chat. Most of the time I just shut my brain off and made
drinks like a sexy robot would… the sexy part meaning I threw in the occasional
wink or compliment depending on who was around.
After all, I wasn't just a bartender. I was a host. Or at least
that's what my buddy Ben repeated until he was blue in the face when we first
opened the doors.
I met him through Christophe, who used to be a regular at the
last place I worked. I don't know how he and Ben met. I didn't understand how
any rich people met. It just sort of happened, as if money had a distinct scent
or something.
Anyway, he was the one that got me the job, and being head
bartender at the most exclusive club in town had changed everything for me. I
was earning more money than I could spend, meeting more women than I could
fuck, and having more fun than I'd ever had.
I absolutely loved it.
How could I not?
After so many years of rules and regulations and uniforms and
watching my language and being in control, it was a huge relief to be around
people who were relaxed, people who were just trying to have a good time.
Sure, there were benefits to my strict education. I learned a
bit of much needed respect, was able to look after myself, and had a level of
personal discipline that was unparalleled… at least, when Jen wasn't around.
But becoming the person I was had a cost, and I’d spent more
time feeling oppressed than I would wish on any man.
Still, I was free at last.
All that mattered now was that working in a room full of tipsy
people made me forget the raps on the knuckles, the pushups in the mud, the
please sir yes sirs I muttered every time I wanted to piss or shit or blow my
goddamn nose.
Escaping that environment was all I thought about for years, and
I’d done it. And it was just as amazing as I thought it would be.
And then Jen showed up.
Yes, she had a beautiful face, and yes, I was ashamed of how
much I liked her laugh and her smell and her spunkiness.
But her presence was a downer, too.
Cause I felt like a success most of the time. But seeing her again
reminded me that while I'd come a long way, there was much I hadn't achieved.
After all, there were only two things I ever really wanted so
much it hurt, two things I was too chicken to go after.
Jen was one of them.
And the other, well, I didn't see
"Is he being moody?"
"No.” I took a deep breath. “He's fine. But just so you
know, Ed never told him I was coming, and I don't think Ethan ever gave him
permission to copy his key. So he was kind of ticked at first."
Silence.
"Mom?"
"I didn’t realize that was the situation. That must’ve been
awkward for you."
"Yeah."
"Was Ethan really upset?"
I bit the inside of my cheek. "Honestly, I think he expects
that kind of thing from Ed at this point. I wouldn’t bring it up anyway."
"Mmm. I thought Ed was mellowing out, but maybe he's not
quite as far along as I thought."
"Everything's fine otherwise. His place is really nice.
He's… tidy."
"That's good to hear."
"And I probably won't have to cramp his style for much
longer."
"I'm sure you're not cramping his style."
"I'm trying not to.”
"Well, I'll call to check on you soon.”
“Okay.”
“Give Ethan a hug for me."
"Sure," I said.
As if I could stop at a hug.
Chapter 14: Ethan
I liked working at the club early in the week.
It was a different crowd, an arguably cooler crowd than the
hoards that nearly busted the door down to get in at the weekend.
I didn’t know if it was cause we got more freelance, hipster
types in or what, but for some reason, the people that could party late on
Monday and Tuesday seemed a more mellow bunch.
What's more, not only could I actually have some banter with my
coworkers while we poured drinks, but people were less likely to be on drugs so
I was able to carry on more interesting conversations with the customers.
Once Thursday night rolled around, though, it was too busy to
think, much less chat. Most of the time I just shut my brain off and made
drinks like a sexy robot would… the sexy part meaning I threw in the occasional
wink or compliment depending on who was around.
After all, I wasn't just a bartender. I was a host. Or at least
that's what my buddy Ben repeated until he was blue in the face when we first
opened the doors.
I met him through Christophe, who used to be a regular at the
last place I worked. I don't know how he and Ben met. I didn't understand how
any rich people met. It just sort of happened, as if money had a distinct scent
or something.
Anyway, he was the one that got me the job, and being head
bartender at the most exclusive club in town had changed everything for me. I
was earning more money than I could spend, meeting more women than I could
fuck, and having more fun than I'd ever had.
I absolutely loved it.
How could I not?
After so many years of rules and regulations and uniforms and
watching my language and being in control, it was a huge relief to be around
people who were relaxed, people who were just trying to have a good time.
Sure, there were benefits to my strict education. I learned a
bit of much needed respect, was able to look after myself, and had a level of
personal discipline that was unparalleled… at least, when Jen wasn't around.
But becoming the person I was had a cost, and I’d spent more
time feeling oppressed than I would wish on any man.
Still, I was free at last.
All that mattered now was that working in a room full of tipsy
people made me forget the raps on the knuckles, the pushups in the mud, the
please sir yes sirs I muttered every time I wanted to piss or shit or blow my
goddamn nose.
Escaping that environment was all I thought about for years, and
I’d done it. And it was just as amazing as I thought it would be.
And then Jen showed up.
Yes, she had a beautiful face, and yes, I was ashamed of how
much I liked her laugh and her smell and her spunkiness.
But her presence was a downer, too.
Cause I felt like a success most of the time. But seeing her again
reminded me that while I'd come a long way, there was much I hadn't achieved.
After all, there were only two things I ever really wanted so
much it hurt, two things I was too chicken to go after.
Jen was one of them.
And the other, well, I didn't see
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