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Rye

To say the day has flown by is an understatement.

I didn't waste much time taking Bee back to the motorcycle clubhouse down the road. It was closer than I originally thought. The second I watched her walk in the door I peeled out of there like my ass was on fire.

She's a problem. I can tell just from the way she handles herself. I have a weak spot for problems.

I was married to a woman who had more issues than playboy magazine, but that didn't stop me from falling hard for other women who tend to make my life much harder than it needs to be. I finally got the need to be a savior out of my system, and I'm not going to let little Ms. Bee come in and derail me. I'd rather be alone than have to deal with that mess again.

The issue is I wonder if I don't take the time to help her than who will. It's obvious that she's too stubborn to ask anyone for help even though she clearly needs it.

No.

I'm not going to do it again.

The bar is buzzing with its usual crowd, a mix of laughter and clinking glasses under the dim, flickering lights. I wipe down the counter, the familiar scent of spilled beer and old whiskey filling my nostrils. The walls are plastered with old concert posters and the occasional neon sign flickering half-heartedly. It’s a dive, no doubt about it, but it’s our dive—a second home for the regulars who come here to forget the world outside.

I glance around the room. At the far end, Mr. Thompson is nursing his usual bourbon, his weathered face creased into a frown as he watches the game on the small TV mounted in the corner. Next to him, Sarah and Jess are giggling over a round of shots, their laughter light, but I can see the tension in Jess’s eyes. She’s been through a lot lately, just like many of the others here.

But it’s the door that keeps pulling my attention. Every time it swings open, a rush of cold air slips inside, and my heart skips a beat. I can’t help but hope it’s Bee, but as the minutes crawl by, the reality weighs heavier on me. Part of me wants her to walk through that door, to reclaim her space here, but the bigger part of me knows she needs to heal. Last night still haunts me, the memory of her fear and pain etched into my mind.

I pour a drink for a newcomer, a tall guy with a scruffy beard and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. He seems harmless enough, but I keep an eye on him, as I do with everyone. The bar is a sanctuary, but it can quickly turn chaotic if I let my guard down. I focus on my duties, serving drinks and cracking jokes, trying to keep the mood light, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Bee.

I remember the way she looked, shaken, vulnerable. I knew she had a drinking problem, but I didn’t realize how deep it went until last night. I should have seen the signs. I should have done more to protect her. The guilt gnaws at me, sharper than any knife.

Another glance at the door. I catch a glimpse of a couple of regulars, but no Bee. I pour another drink for Mr. Thompson and listen to him grumble about the game. It’s comforting, in a way, the rhythm of bar life, but it’s missing something without her presence.

Every laugh, every cheer feels incomplete. The bar is alive, but it’s as if a shadow lingers in the corner where she should be. I take a deep breath, focusing on the tasks at hand, but I can’t shake the worry that’s settled in my chest.

“Hey, Rye!” Sarah calls out, snapping me back to reality. “Another round over here!”

I nod, forcing a smile as I move to fill their glasses. The steady humdrum sounds has become my life but I can't help but wish for a little bit of excitement.

11:50, ten minutes to midnight my dose of excitement comes bursting through the door.

"Why is it always so dead in here?" Bee shouts and a few of the regulars whoop and clap when they see her. She has a way of lighting up the room.

My eyes stay glued onto her as she saunters wobbly over to the bar.

"How's it hanging, Rye?" She calls over the noise and sits on one of the stools.

I did want to see her again just to make sure she was okay but now that I see her and can tell she's really not okay I'm so disappointed she decided to come.

"What are you doing here, Bee?" I question not even attempting to keep the anger out of my voice.

"What do you mean. I made you a promise." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a wad of cash. Too much for her to be carrying around and flashing like that.

"Jesus Christ, put that away."

"What do you mean put it away. I'm paying my bill for last night. Did you forget?" She smirks at me but she has to put her hand up to her mouth to stop a hiccup.

"You're wasted, already."

"No, I did pregame back at the compound. Nothing I haven't done before." She leans further over the bar, the low cut shirt she has on giving me full view of her small but somehow perfect chest.

"After yesterday maybe doing the same things you've done before isn't the best idea." I don't look away from her and see the moment her face falls. I'm killing her buzz but I don't care.

"I didn't come here for all this. I promised you that I would pay you tonight and I always keep my word." Bee peels off a few bills and slides them toward me on the bartop. I quickly take it and toss it in the cash register.

"Alright, you're all settled up." I'm expecting her to get up and try to go home but she doesn't move.

"Give me a double of Jack."

I could tell her no. I could refuse to serve her but I know if I don't give her the drink she'll just go somewhere else and spend that money. Somewhere else where someone can take advantage of her like that asshole tried to do last night.

No, it's better if I keep her here and keep an eye on her.

"Whatever." I mumble and grab the bottle of jack. I pour her a double and fill the rest of it up with water. I'm sure she's drunk enough she won't even notice. I slide it in her direction and she takes it. She sips it at first, closing her eyes to absorb the sensation before she tips the glass up at me and slides off the bar stool.

The rest of my night is a mix of me taking care of the rest of the customers and keeping a close eye on Bee. She dances with the regulars and the newcomers. She talks to everyone she can. She literally buzzes from person to person making a lasting impression every minute of the night. I'm actually kind of surprised she's still able to go on. Finally, when I make the last call she makes her way back to the bar to sit down. It's nearly three in the morning and I'm more than ready to close up for the night but Bee looks like she can go another twelve hours or more.

"One last drink?" She waggles her eyebrows at me. I'm surprised she hasn't noticed by now that her drinks are more water than anything else and I've stopped charging her.

"Do you really think you need another one?" I bite my tongue as the question rolls off my lips.

Her features go hard and she shoots me that devilish glare. I'm sure with anyone else it might have been intimidating but to me it's kind of cute. I've already seen her at her worst, I'm not scared of the little bumblebee.

"I don't need a daddy. I need a bartender that's willing to do his job." She snaps in my direction.

"If that was the case I should've cut you off hours ago. You don't need anymore to drink Bee." There's no give in my tone. Even though I know she's not as drunk as she could be I'm not going to be responsible for her walking outside and getting herself into trouble.

We stare at eachother for a long moment again. So far that seems to be most of our interactions, both of us pushing at the other just checking how far each of us will bend.

"Fine, some water then?"

I nod my head, "That I'll do with pleasure." I turn and pour her a large pint glass of water and slide it over in her direction. She sits there for a while just sipping it while the rest of the people in the bar mosey over to pay their tabs and file out. I have to take a few car keys but that's normal business for me. What I'm wondering is what Bee is actually waiting for.

"You planning on locking up for me too?" I question as I start cleaning down the bar.

"No, I just ... What's your deal anyway? You go around playing superman for everyone?"

The question shocks me. It's not the first time I've been accused of that but I need toot know what she sees that would give her that impression.

"No, just the ones who need it."

"And you think I need to be saved?"

"Last night you did, as for the rest of your life, I'm not the man to do that." I tilt my head and go on doing my chores.

"That's good because I'm not some weak little girl that needs a man to do anything for her. I take charge of my life. I do what I want, when I want." I can't tell if she's trying to convince me or herself.

"And how is that working out for you?"

"It's working out just fine thank you very much. Last night was a fluke if I was in my right mind I'd have skinned that guy alive." Bee grits through her teeth. I believe it.

"That's true. He would've had hell to deal with if you were in your right mind. But I don't think I've ever seen you in your right mind."

She crosses her arms over her chest, clearly upset that I'm calling her out, "I don't have a problem. I don't need to hear that from you."

"Then who do you need to hear it from Bee? You needed a drink at eight in the morning. If that's not someone who has a problem then who is?" I want to get through to her.

"You don't know anything about my life. Just because you see me here from time to time and at one of my worst experiences doesn't mean that you get to judge me." Her words are laced with venom but they don't cut my skin.

"I'm not judging you. I'm just telling you what I see. If you want a different opinion get it from somewhere else." Abandoning the rest of my clean up for tomorrow I come out from behind the bar and usher the last of the customers out. I'm ready for this day to be over. To be away from Bee.

She walks up behind me, "You know if you weren't such a jerk I'd actually be willing to take a ride on the Bear."

"Oh shit, did she just say what I-" I shove the last patron out the door.

My nerves are on ten right now and my body is tight but it's not from arousal. It's from rage.

I walk back over to Bee and grab the back of her neck tilting her face up so I can see her eyes clearly. They are glazed and she nearly topples over just from the one touch.

"Bee, you're fucking gorgeous. Exactly the kind of woman that gets my cock harder than forged steel. I'd bend you over every surface in this bar touching parts of your body you didn't even know exist." I hold her steady as I continue. "But I'd rather piss pine cones and have steel wool rammed up my ass before I'd fuck you while your this wasted. I don't know what kind of man you're used to but you're not going to get it from me. Go home." I let her go and walk to the front door to hold it open for her.

"You... But...I..." She's flustered. She huffs out a breath and storms out of the door not saying a word in return.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" I question but I don't have to. I know she'll come back. I just threw down the gauntlent and if I know anything about this woman is that she's going to rise to the challenge. I'm actually intrigued to see what she's got hidden inside of her.

I wanted excitement, this little Bee sure is just what the doctor ordered.