The rest of the night at the dance was calm and enjoyable. George’s parents showed up and hugged and fussed over me, which I loved. They’re amazing people. His dad and I did a line dance, and he begged me to marry George, and if I couldn’t, would I wait until Cameron was of age. George ignored me and chose not to ride back with Anna, Sniper, and I when we left. I assume his parents took him home. My consolation after the dramatic evening was that Ike was waiting for me when I got back to my room, and I found great comfort in that.
The next day, the first half of my double shift is rather drama free. George and Misty are both off. I imagine sniffing coke and boinking like rabbits. I hate how ill the thought makes me. I shouldn’t care; this is business, after all. I’m only helping George so Ike can crossover. At least without George and Misty at the restaurant, I had a day of peace; no nasty looks from her and no attitude from him. Ike wanted me to go to George’s house and make up some excuse for being there, but I couldn’t do that. Not after what happened the other night. I know I’ll see him and Misty tomorrow at work.
Today has been slow and awkward. Misty is pretending to be nice to me, and I despise her for it. I don’t want her fakeness, mostly because she’s so much better at it than me. Very rarely can I smile at a person I dislike and speak to them without my every thought being obvious, and I have no doubt my distaste for the white trash princess is evident every time we speak. George is working the back line with Sniper and Greg, avoiding me for the most part.
But I’ve noticed him.
Unfortunately.
He’s wearing a tight, black T-shirt, showcasing his amazing body and muscular arms. Since I met him, he’s always been slightly thinner than Ike, but still ripped. I wonder if it’s only the drugs that have made him smaller, because other than the slight difference in their size, haircuts, and shades of eye color, they are identical. I find myself ogling him, forgetting what an ass he is for a mere second until he speaks.
“How’s your ass?” he chuckles, snapping me out of my state of admiration. Sniper bites his lip to keep from laughing as he winks at me. Damn him. I blush with embarrassment. I can’t believe I had my ass in George’s face. It’s no secret he likes to get a rise out of me and he’s succeeded. Score one for George. Two can play at this game.
“I don’t know.” I bite my lip seductively. “Might need you to check it out for me again. Would you mind?”
All three men on the line stop what they’re doing and stare at me. I chance a glance at Ike and he rolls his eyes as if he’s annoyed. I resist the urge to toss a lemon at him. What’s his problem? It’s only a joke.
“Uh, sure. I could—”
“It was a joke, George,” I interrupt him as I laugh. He glares at me as his perfect lips flatten into a hard line. “You will not have the pleasure of having this ass,” I turn slightly and point to my butt, “in your face again,” I tease. I know I shouldn’t. George hates me, but I can’t deny I’m attracted to him and his brother. The McDermott twins are good-looking men. And as much as I know George dislikes me, I can feel his dark eyes on me every so often. The attraction is mutual.
Before he responds, I take the two hot plates from the line and head out to drop them at Peyton’s table. As I exit the kitchen, I hear Sniper say, “You’re a lucky wanker, you got to see that ass.” They all laugh in response, and I smile to myself because I’m an idiot.
After that, Ike leaves me alone most of the night, which I’m grateful for. The fact he’s dead and tries to talk to me—constantly—is distracting enough, but add in his good looks, and I can’t focus on anything. Even though the lack of his presence helps in some ways, I find myself looking for him, scanning the restaurant and the kitchen just to make sure he’s still with me. Sounds stupid when I’ve asked him to give me space, but some part of me needs to know he’s near. I’ve mentally scolded myself for that feeling. Becoming dependent on his presence is bad news; it is an infinite fact Ike will leave this world for good soon. Then what will I do? But for now, as long as I know his soul still lingers in this world, I need to have him close as much as I need to breathe. He’s the one and only thing I can count on right now, and I know how absurd that is since he’s dead and can do absolutely nothing for me other than hang out, basically.