“I heard that,” Hazel whispers before she busies herself with her Shirley Temple. “Too bad the swear jar isn’t here.”
“Way to go.” Alyssa pats me on the back, chuckling. “You’ve always had a potty mouth and an inability to filter.”
Maddox finally cracks a smile around the red straw in her drink.
“You know I’m horrible at watching my language, Alyssa. I blame growing up in this bar for it, too.”
“You grew up here?” Hazel asks, glancing around the old place. “Where did you sleep?”
Maddox groans and rolls her eyes. “She didn’t mean she grew up in the bar, Haze.”
“I didn’t sleep here. My family owns the bar. I was probably younger than you when I started spending more time here.”
“You own this?” Maddox asks and sits a little straighter.
I nod. “My entire family does.”
“So, you do this every day?”
“No. I help my stepmom out at the bakery next door sometimes, and I own Inked Southside across the street.”
Maddox turns around and stares out the windows. “The tattoo place?”
“Yep.”
She turns back to face me, and suddenly, her iciness has disappeared. “That’s so cool.”
And for a moment, my iciness cools with the hormonal teenage girl who probably enjoys giving her father more than his fair share of trouble. “Now, you have three minutes to finish up, and then we’re heading to your granny’s place. You’ve been gone long enough.”
“It’s not like anyone cares,” Maddox mumbles under her breath as she lifts the glass of pink liquid to her lips.
I head down the bar to where Alyssa is talking to Marvin, catching up on all the neighborhood gossip she’s missed in the year since her last visit back to the Southside. “Teenagers,” Alyssa says to me when I’m out of earshot of the girls. “They’re the best birth control ever.”
“That’s no lie, bestie. They’re impossible,” I tell her.
“Were we that bad at that age?” she asks me.
Marvin clears his throat and mutters, “One hundred percent.”
“You remember us back then?” I ask him, always shocked at how many people in the bar I’ve known basically my entire life.
“You two were big-time troublemakers. I don’t know how your parents survived.” He deflates as soon as the words leave his mouth. “I’m sorry, Tate. I didn’t mean that how it sounded. God rest your mother’s soul.”
I move to stand in front of him, resting my hip against the counter, not the least bit upset. “Marvin, I know you weren’t talking about my mom. She never got to see me make it to my troublemaker years.”
“And when exactly did the troublemaker years end, Tate? Because I’m pretty sure that Rowdy didn’t exit the picture that long ago.”
I sigh at the mention of his name. The man who almost stole my heart along with my life. He was nothing but trouble, and yet, I couldn’t stay away. He wasn’t the real problem, but his brothers in his motorcycle club were. If they’d had their way, I wouldn’t be standing here now, breathing.
“I left him five years ago. That’s a pretty lengthy stretch, and I made a promise to myself as soon as I turned thirty, Alyssa. Didn’t I tell you about it?”
She crosses her arms and tilts her head, waiting to hear my bullshit. “No, but I’m really interested in hearing about what I can only assume is stupidity.”
I raise my chin because Alyssa knows me better than anyone, and she isn’t wrong. I’ve had my fair share of harebrained ideas, but this isn’t one of them. “Since turning thirty, I’ve sworn off three things.”
Her eyebrows rise in surprise. “Oh boy. This should be good.”
“No more donuts.”
