“I’m going to take off.” I go to slide out of the booth, but Avery pounds his fist on the table, making me pause and raise an eyebrow. The grin growing across his face looks like a Cheshire cat, and I know he’s about to stir shit up.
“No. I think we’re having another beer.”
I shake my head.
“Or—” he continues, taking another sip. “I’ll get up on this table and sing along with the music, so everyone in this bar looks this way. No doubt getting a certain brunette’s attention.” His eyes flick to Rylee.
I ball my hands into fists but make no move to get up. If I didn’t need him, I’d fire his ass right here on the spot.
“Great.” He blindly grabs a woman’s arm who walks by our table. “Hey, could we get two more beers?” He motions to our empty bottles.
“If you get your lazy ass up and mosey up to the bar, I’m sure they’d be happy to help you,” a sweet voice says, pulling out of his grasp.
Our heads whip around and look at who he stopped.Shit.It’s one of the girls from Rylee’s table, not a waitress. She has short blonde hair, and she’s someone who clearly isn’t afraid to stand up for herself. Turning my head away, I adjust my baseball cap, lowering it over my eyes. With any luck, this girl has no idea who I am, but I’m pretty sure we went to high school together.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry!” Avery gets out of the booth, putting his hand on his chest. “I thought you were a waitress with how fast you were moving. I assumed you were going to put in orders or something.”
“And yet, you stopped me thinking I was busy only to give me something else to do?” She puts her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she looks up at him.
“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Again, I’m sorry. Let me buy you a drink as an apology.” He gives her a smile that usually has women falling at his feet.
I shake my head. He’s always been smooth even after he fucks up. Maybe he’ll be distracted enough for me to slip out.
“Trish, what’s taking so long? Do you need sav—” A beautiful voice says, then cuts off.
I’d know that voice anywhere. I look up only to find Rylee staring right at me. Shock flashes across her face, then hurt, before it finally morphs into anger.
“Clayton,” she nearly growls.
I nod, keeping my face blank.
“Still talkative, I see.” Rylee glares at me up and down before turning to her friend, whose eyebrows are raised. “I was coming to see if you needed saving, but if you’re hanging around this table—” she pauses, her eyes zeroing in on the scar above my eyebrow before sending daggers at me once again. “I’ll wait for you over there.” Her friend opens her mouth, but Rylee storms away.
“Good to see you, Rylee,” Avery calls across the bar.
She lifts a hand in the air as a farewell as her long hair sways behind her, and I hang my head, scooting out of the booth. Avery knows better than to stop me now.
“See ya,” I mumble.
He claps me on the back. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I still want to finish our talk.”
I open and close my hands in and out of fists and walk right out the front of the bar. After successfully avoiding her after all this time, of course, the one night I go out, there she is. Not even a glimpse of the girl I used to know when I scanned her face.
3
RYLEE: THEN
Rylee:10 yrs old
“Rylee, come down. Our guests should be here any minute,” my mother calls from the living room. Tucking the bookmark between the pages, I lay the book on the nightstand. Our golden retriever, Peanut, lies at the foot of the bed. I scratch her head, leaning into the love. We got her as a puppy after I finished kindergarten, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.
Skipping down the stairs, I find Mom fluffing and straightening the pillows on the couch. She looks over her shoulder at me. “Honey, will you go pick a few fresh flowers from the garden and put them in a vase on the table?”
“Sure, Mom.” I grab the basket by the front door, already having scissors in it. The door opens, and I step aside as my dad walks in.
“Oh, sorry, sweetie. I didn’t see you there.” He rustles the hair on my head, and I bat his hand away, squirming to get around him. He smiles and holds the door open for me. “Janet, I started the grill. I need the burgers and hot dogs.”
“They’re in the refrigerator waiting for you.”
