I wipe down the counter. It’s late, and barely any customers remain. Just a few stragglers, too drunk to leave. James, the bodyguard, will have a field day with them once Jane gives the signal.I glance at the clock on the wall. Thirty minutes to two. The end of my shift.I grab a crate of unopened beers and carry them back to storage, my arms aching from the long night.“I can close up, kid. Go home,” Jane says when I come back out. Her voice is raspy from years of smoking, but there’s warmth beneath it. She owns the bar, built it from nothing, and somehow still remembers to look out for me.I nod and untie my apron. I change out of my work clothes before leaving. It’s not required, but Matteo hates the smell of cigarettes, and I reek of it by the end of every shift.Matteo.The thought of him pulls a small smile to my lips. He’s probably not home. From friends to best friends to boyfriend, that’s been our story. Messy. Comfortable. Familiar.We grow up together with deadbeat mothers
Last Updated : 2026-01-21 Read more