Where Nerves End

admitting defeat. Somehow Id find a way to keep my house, business, and credit.
And now my fucking head ached. From right between my eyes, a deep, relentless ache radiated up to my hairline and down into my eyes. Resting my elbows on my desk, I dug my thumbs into either side of the bridge of my nose, hoping some counter pressure might alleviate it. Or make my head explode, which would solve a few problems.
“Next time that happens?” Michaels voice echoed inside my throbbing skull. “Press the sides of your thumbs right here. Press in, and then pull them across like so. Do it three or four times, and it should diffuse some of the tension.”
I glanced at the closed door. There was no one around who could possibly see me, but I still felt like a bit of an idiot.
When I was absolutely certain I was alone, I pressed my thumbs between my eyebrows and moved them apart like Michael had demonstrated. It didnt help, but admittedly, it felt good, so I closed my eyes and did it again. A third time.
By the fourth time, I felt too much like a gullible idiot to do it again, so I sighed, lowered my hands, and looked at the bills in front of me.
And my head didnt hurt.
I blinked a few times. What the hell?
The ache in and behind my forehead was gone. A vague heaviness remained, reminding me that thered been pain there a moment ago, but the worst was definitely gone.
For that matter, my shoulder still didnt hurt, which was unusual when I was stressed. Cautiously, I rolled my shoulders. The muscles were tight, a little stiff, but most of the pain was MIA. Rolling my shoulders again, I closed my eyes and smiled to myself as I exhaled.
Maybe I was drowning in more problems than I needed, but if only for a little while, I wasnt in pain. I wasnt. In fucking. Pain .
And if only for a little while, I couldnt ask for anything more.
    * * *
    “Hey, hey, someones looking better,” Seth shouted over the upper levels music. We clasped hands in that handshake that looked more like we were about to start armwrestling. “Hows the shoulder?”
    “A lot better.” I rolled it as if for emphasis. “That shits amazing.”
He grinned, raising his beer bottle in a mock toast. “Told ya.”
“Yeah, yeah, you were right. Come on.”
Seth followed me past the bar and down the hall by the restrooms. I pushed open the door marked Employees Only, and we continued up the metal stairwell to the roof where we always hung out when he came by Lights Out.
More than once, Id considered opening this up as a terrace level for the club, but the liability made me break out in hives. What if a drunk went over the side? What if a cigarette didnt make it into the designated place and the whole place went up? No, no, no. This was, and would be for the foreseeable future, the outdoor break room.
Seth leaned against the railing, idly tapping his beer bottle against the bricks. “So he helped, then. Glad to hear it.”
“More than I expected, thats for sure.” I threw him a pointed look. “You could have warned me he was hot.”
Seth laughed. “Well, I didnt want to ruin the surprise.” Bringing his beer up to his lips, he added, “Too bad hes straight.”
I scowled. “Yeah, I was afraid of that.”
“Damned shame he doesnt play for our team. I mean, I thought he did a few times, but…”
“What do you mean?”
“In high school, Id have sworn he had a thing for this kid who was in the band with us.”
“Did he, now?”
Seth nodded. “Michael and I were both first chair trumpet players. He was a super talented, amazing musician back then. Probably still is. Anyway, junior year, this kid Charlie Turner moves to town. I swear, the day Charlie sat next to us, Michael couldnt remember a damned scale.” He laughed, his expression taking on a distant, nostalgic look. “I thought for sure Michael was gay after that. Or at least bi. Curious. Something.”
“But he isnt?”
“Nope. There wasnt a varsity cheerleader in our school who didnt date him, and Im pretty sure he banged his way through two sororities in college before he met his wife.”
“Damn it, hes married too?”
“ Was married.”
“But still bats for that team.”
“As far as I know, yep.”
“Bastard.”
“You know how it is,” he said with a shrug. “All the good ones are taken or straight.”
“Gee, thanks.”
He laughed. “Hey, Im single too, so…”
“Yeah, but were talking about the good ones.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
I snickered. Then I rested my elbow on the concrete railing