Down Shift Read Online Free

to be fired after dropping that bottle.”
    The laugh I force—the one that used to be my everyday normal— sounds hollow to my own ears. Funny how it seems so odd in this new life I’ve created for myself.
    â€œNah. Everyone makes mistakes.” Liam’s voice pulls me back from my thoughts. “It’s no big deal. Really.”
    â€œI can add an extra hour on my shift or help cover during a game night if you get too busy. It’s the least I can do.” I slow down my footsteps as we approach the fork in our paths on the walk home from the bar.
    â€œNot necessary. Besides, you should come in during a game. Be a customer. Most of us here are a little obsessed with the Mariners. It’s a good time.”
    â€œNah. Not my thing.” Too many people crowded in one spot. At least when I’m working, I have the bar counter as my barrier. A space between me and any unwanted contact.
    Who am I kidding
? All contact is unwanted these days.
    â€œAre you telling me you don’t like my bar?” he laughs in mock offense as we stand on the corner beneath the streetlight.
    â€œNo. Not at all,” I correct myself. “I mean—”
    â€œRelax. I’m just teasing you.” He reaches out to touch my arm and I freeze at his motion. Then curse myself. Shit. He obviously notices my reaction, because he pulls his hand back immediately, but his gaze remains locked on mine. Searching. Asking. Wanting more.
    â€œI, um—thanks for walking with me. I’m beat and—”
    â€œGetty?”
    â€œYeah?” My voice is cautious because I know what comes next and don’t really want to venture there.
    â€œIf there was some kind of problem . . .” I’m not sure if the flash of hurt in my eyes stops his words, but they stopnonetheless. He nods in silent understanding. “Well, if you need any kind of help, I’m here, okay?”
    â€œThank you. I appreciate it,” I murmur softly. “Good night.”
    I walk away, knowing he hasn’t moved and is watching me make my way through the night toward my house. He’s sweet and kind. So very different from what I’m used to, and so I need distance between us. It would be way too easy to lean on him, use his friendship to get through this, when I know better than anyone that the only person I can depend on is myself.
    And yet the weight of his stare and the concern in his eyes are like magnets pulling me backward, begging me to find someone I can confide in, when all I really need to do is learn how to manage this new life on my own.
    Keep walking, Getty.
You can let him in once you figure yourself out.
    I look out toward the moonlit ocean view beyond and take stock as to why I’m here. It seemed like the stars aligned when my mother’s oldest friend offered to let me stay in the vacation house she and her husband were renovating before they could flip it. And because of that, I have a roof over my head. A place to reflect on what I want. A solitary space where I’ll be able to come to terms with the mistakes from my past so I can have a better future.
    You don’t know they’re mistakes until you make them. Or learn from them. Let’s hope I’ve done both and can move forward.
    I walk down the alleyway, past my car, parked in the narrow, shrub-lined driveway, to the front door of the old cottage. Skipping over the third step to avoid the broken wood slat, I remind myself that should be first on the very long list of repairs that I need to schedule for the house.
    It’s the least I can do, considering she’s letting me stay here for free during the renovation.
    Exhaustion hits me like a ton of bricks once I’m inside. I move through the darkened foyer quietly, in practiced precision, as if I’m still back in the Palo Alto house. I flick the light off in the kitchen, surprised I forgot to turn it off before I left, and ignore my grumbling