Take My Breath Away

Chapter 12

Seth POV:

After Mark had thrown me out of the diner, I got a new job at the party supply store a block away from my house. I'd earned my English degree at the local community college, so I was sure that I entered right into the workforce with something in my field, but I'd been quickly given a slap in the face as I turned down over and over again.

Working in retail had been the absolute last thing I was doing now, but I picked up some freelance copy editing work on the side, and the hours provided me with a flexible schedule that allowed me to do both and pay the bills.

The job is supposed to be temporary until I can find something better, but it's not difficult to work there, so I don't see changing anytime soon. And I'm not angry at Dean for making me quit the job in the diner. Speaking about him makes me feel like this is all some kind of dream.

People call him a lot of things: Mad, silly, insane... Well, mostly shit that relates to crazy, but potentially, very possibly crazy or not, the man has a way of grabbing our attention. He has charisma for days, so I have decided to give him a chance, wanting to know the best of him.

I wince as I walk into the store to begin my shift. I'm sick of the Bye Bye Love by The Everly Brothers that has been on rotation for the past two days and is more than ready to see it go.

Of course, with parties wrapping up, it is just a matter of time before Easter music kicks in, and that will be even worse! With a sigh, I move to the back, clocking in and chatting with my manager, who is heading out for the evening before I head back out front and take over for my new friend Jessica, who is getting ready to head over to her boyfriend's house for a party.

She invited me to the party, but I'd been trying to figure out a way to get out of it when my boss asked me to work the late shift. "Hey, Seth! Thanks for coming in a little earlier. It will give me a chance to go pick up my costume together. Listen, I know you're not a real social guy, but after you get out of here, you should come there, man!" She bounces next to me enthusiastically.

I roll my eyes at her. "No thanks."

Still frowning, she gives me a quick hug, thanking me once again as she goes to clock out. My manager isn't far behind, stopping to grant me some last-minute directions before he takes off, leaving me alone to finish up the evening and close up.

I figure out with the initial rush of people during the day looking for a last-minute costume edition that the evening will be a lot quieter, and as the hours tick by, I'm right, barely waiting on a hand full of people.

It's all I can do for a couple of hours until I get a break from work. I think about Dean and feel my phone is burning a hole through my pocket. I haven't even thought of putting it on the counter like I regularly do, tucking right into my front pocket.

I can't keep myself from pulling it out every few minutes when I can, wanting to make sure there isn't a missed call or text. Halfway going through it, I convince myself it's all a dream that I don't really meet Dean, and it's all must have one hell of a hallucination in my life until I unlock my phone and take in the number sitting atop my missed calls list.

I stifle a sigh and slide my phone back into my pocket, looking around frustrated. Boring, I find myself straightening displays and sweeping the floors, jerking when I realize that I'm singing along to Berlin's 'Take my breath away..'.

"Fuck!" I swear out loud. "I'm losing it."

I get through my day, barely feeling worn thin by the time I reach home. My phone has still been noticeably silent, and I try not to let it bother me. I'm not sure what I have really expected, anyway.

He is a busy person, probably barely has time to breathe, let alone have any kind of phone conversation, and I'm an idiot for expecting anything. Or maybe he took the time to think about it and realized pursuing anything with me wasn't a good idea.

He has primed for a top position in the company. And his focus should be on that, not on any kind of fling or whatever with me. And I know his career will come before anything else.

It's a heavy stone in the pit of my stomach, and I chastise myself for it. I spent what, all of two weeks with Dean? It didn't mean anything that we exchanged numbers. Hell, if he wants to, I'm sure he can make a call and get his number to change in the blink of an eye. He doesn't owe me anything.

I sigh and spend the night curling up on the couch, flipping through the channels until I get bored with it, switching to a game of Madden that I lose myself in until it's a late enough hour I can rationalize going to sleep.