Cashed » Lip Gallagher [2]

»part 23 » secret breathing

"You scared the shit out of me."

"I seem to have that effect on all woman." He chuckled ever so lightly.

I smiled, "I'm not sure that's something to be proud of."

"To each their own I guess."

As he stood there in his white collard button down, I realized that I was in ripped up jeans with a matching white t-shirt that said 'asshole' in big black letters. My hair was probably a sweaty mess that frizzed all around while his was slicked back and fresh cut. He was dapper and I was drab.

"Dressed up for a drink?" I motioned towards his getup.

"I wish," He grinned, "I was at a friend's wedding. Nothing like the binding of one's love to another to realize how lonely you are and how badly you need a drink, ya know?"

"I'm sorry to hear – about the newlyweds, not your dire need for a drink." I joked, "Those poor souls."

His lips rose into a smirk as he looked down at his black dress shoes. "Nice shirt."

"Thanks." Warm heat rushed to my cheeks while I pushed a stray of hair behind my ear. I felt kind of exposed, but not in a naked kind of way. More of a 'this is my loneliest time of the day' kind of way. With Lip gone and Ian with Mickey 24/7, I haven't really had the time to talk to anyone. Being sober meant focusing on yourself, which meant a lot of alone time. It's been pretty quiet in the Cash world.

"Mind if I walk with you home?" His tone of voice sounded insecure, like a child asking for permission.

I looked down the empty streets of the south side and inhaled loudly, "Sure, I guess you could use a body guard. Lookin' like that, you might get jumped."

He began to laugh but slowly stopped once he realized I wasn't joking. I smirked at him and began walking at a slow pace down the sidewalk. This was the first time we were seeing each other again since the night we met. I can't say I haven't thought of him since. Just the mysteriousness of our encounter left me wondering what his story was.

"So, you're a bartender?" He finally asked.

"That I am."

"Isn't there a rule against that?"

"Against what?"

I looked over to see him organizing his thoughts before answering, "An addict working around alcohol."

I smiled, "Okay first, I'm not an addict anymore. Recovering, remember?" I stated proudly, "And second, I was never addicted to alcohol. Well not really."

"But isn't that like a trigger? Being around it all day? I know I would lose my mind if I could look but not touch."

"I guess it's kind of tough some days," I shrugged, "But I need a job and this is the south side. Gotta learn to live with it."

We continued walking down the street as I heard the gears in his pretty mind turn. Crickets sounded while dogs barked and couples argued indoors. Julian stuffed his hands in his pockets while mine were securely wrapped around my strap. He didn't seem like the kind of this neighborhood.

"So, what was it then?" He asked, "If you don't mind me asking."

I tucked my lower lip between my teeth. It was weird to divulge this information to a complete stranger I literally met off the street, but something told me I could trust him. Maybe it was because he was recovering too. I had a soft spot for the addicts, I guess. "Oxy."

I looked from the corner of my eye to see him purse his lips and nod.

"And cocaine." I finally admitted.