Page 4 of The Ghost of You

“And how would you know?” She raises a brow at me.

I feel my neck turning red. “I’ve seen some of the women he brings over.”

“Are you spying on him?”

“Uh no. I live next to him. And I see them leaving his place in the morning sometimes,” I lie. I have no idea what his type is but I don’t want Seraphina to get any ideas. It would be awkward for me to live next to him and have him banging my crazy friend.

“So why don’t you quit Jimmy’s then?” She changes the subject back.

I shrug. “I like my regular customers there. And it’s only a few nights a week. And I am off by eleven-thirty.”

“Whatever you say, Anna May.”

I hate when she calls me that name, the name my family calls me by. But she only uses it whenever I am lying in hopes that I will give her the truth.

And so what if I want to work at Jimmy’s even though I don’t make that much. It’s not because I like to look at my neighbor hanging out with his co-workers, to see his strong jaw move as he laughs, throwing his head back, his Adam’s apple protruding. Or the way the veins pop out in his thick forearms when he drinks his beer. I don’t notice any of it. Besides, he has been working swing shifts the last month, so he hasn’t been coming in after his shift for drinks with the guys. And I only know that because I see him getting home some nights around the same time I get home from the Beer Garden. I swear.

* * *

I rundown the bar to grab a few IPAs from the cooler before heading back to serve them to my customers. It is insanely busy at the Beer Garden and I blame it on the weather. It should be dropping into the forties at night now but it’s an unseasonable sixty degrees out. Which means all the college kids are getting their drink on.

It’s only nine at night and I have already been hit on four times. The seventy-five-degree weather during the day and the college football games means everyone started drinking early.

It’s also strange to get hit on by a bunch of young guys. I know I look young for my twenty-nine years, but that isn’t the reason. I used to be overweight and rarely ever got hit on. But a little over a year ago I moved to Asheville, thanks to Seraphina, and she got me into yoga. I was at a low point in my life and it helped clear my mind and shed a few pounds. Mostly it just gave me back a confidence I hadn’t had in years.

The night goes by quickly as the bar gets more and more crowded with every hour that passes. I can tell by the tips in the tip jar that I am going to have a good night, even after we divide it between the three bartenders. Maybe I should quit Jimmy’s. It would be nice to have more free time, more time to work on my music.

I grab a ticket from the printer and pour a few pitchers for a server. I bring them over to the station at the end of the bar. The glasses we keep stocked under the station is empty so I head into the kitchen to grab another rack. I lean over to slide them into the holder when someone grabs my ass, turns me around and tries to lean in for a kiss. I push his hands off me, about ready to slap him, but someone pulls him away first.

“Asher, stop being a douche,” the deep voice says. I look up, surprised to see it’s my neighbor.

“Y’all dared me to,” Asher slurs. He probably should be cut off.

Noah hits him on the side of the head. “I definitely did not. Your idiot friends did.”

Another guy, who looks like he could be Noah’s brother, grabs Asher by the arm and pulls him back toward a table.

“Anna, right?” Noah asks me.

I nod.

He brushes his hand through his light brown hair. “Sorry about that. My brother’s wasted.”

“I can tell.”

“It’s his twenty-first birthday.”

I smile at that. “Well tell him Happy Birthday.”

Noah smiles back at me, and my knees nearly buckle at his perfect smile. This man should not be out in public, he is just too attractive for his own good. “I will.”

I feel awkward talking to Noah. This is the most conversation we have ever had. Even though he is my neighbor and a regular at Jimmy’s, I never really talk to him. “I should get back to work.”

He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets. “Yeah, sorry to hold you up. You still working at Jimmy’s? I’ve been working swing shifts so I haven’t been in for a while.”

“I do.”

He starts walking backward to his table. “Well, I’ll see you around.”

---