“I don’t deserve a love that would walk through fire for me, Justin! You deserve someone who can give you everything I can’t! You deserve someone who can mirror your love because they’ve been through things, come out on the other side, and learned from them! I haven’t learned anything, except that I keep making mistakes… And that, apparently, you know me better than I do. You’re right, I am scared to trust myself. I’m young, and dumb, and you deserve someone who’s not!”
What the hell was this woman even talking about?
“My skeletons might be different than yours, Blythe. But that doesn’t make yours any less real or painful. You’ve been through so much more than you give yourself credit for. Do you realize that? If you could see yourself through my eyes, the way I see you—there wouldn’t be a doubt in your mind over your worth. You are the woman I want! You don’t have to come from an abusive home and still have fucking nightmares at thirty years old to make you experienced! Damn, Blythe!
He threw his arm over his head, his gaze still fixated on her.
She nodded but looked down at her feet and the wooden floor beneath them. “You’re too good to me, Justin. Maybe someday I’ll be able to believe it.”
She darted past him and up the stairs. When she came back down, she had her suitcase and whatever else she could carry hanging on her arms.
“I can come back for the rest another day. I have everything I need for now. Please don’t follow me.”
For the second time in one day, Justin watched her peel out of his driveway, taking the air from his lungs with her.
Fuck it. Why did anything matter anymore? Justin revved the engine of his Chevy and blew through the single stop light in town when it turned green. A hole-in-the-wall bar stood right smack dab in the middle of Amber Ridge. He’d never been inside—never had a reason to, until now.
The pungent smell of alcohol whooshed past him as he opened the double wooden doors, entering the building. The place wasn’t rowdy tonight. Maybe everyone there was in for the same reason he was, to drown out the pain. He sauntered to a stool at the end of the long stretch of thick, glossy wood.
“What can I get you, cowboy?” The voice was soothing in a weird type of way. The wordcowboypierced through his heart and didn’t help his mental state, either. The woman who usually called him that just left him in the dust, and he had no idea when he’d see her again.
Justin looked up to see the bartender’s face. She had long, black hair, rosy lips, and a swipe of winged liner along each eye. He gauged her to be around his age but didn’t recognize her from anywhere else in town.
“Um, I don’t drink. What’s the usual order in a place like this?” His voice was casual and flat. Not knowing what to ask for was embarrassing, but he’d never touched a drop, what was he supposed to say?
“My name is Jessie. Let’s not start you out with the hard stuff. I’ll get you something easy.”
Jessie turned to the wall behind her and grabbed a glass, then went to the tap and pulled the handle. She placed the drink in front of him. A tall golden brown…something.
“What is it?” Justin sniffed the rim.
“Does it matter? You’ll enjoy it, and it won’t kick your ass like whoever she is just did.”
“I never said?—”
“You didn’t have to. I’ve seen the look on your face more times than I can count, and I can tell you, for sure, it was a girl who put it there.”
Justin scoffed, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. “She’s the best damn thing that ever happened to me, but she keeps shooting herself in the foot and won’t let anyone help her.”
“I see…sounds like she’s been hurt, too.”
“She has. She’s tough, though, just doesn’t know it.” Justin toyed with the glass.
Jessie leaned her elbows on the counter, looking at him eye level.
“Did you go after her?”
Shit.
No, because she told him not to, and he wasn’t in the mood to get his knuckles anymore bloody than they already were. She was in a fighting mood, and he’d just ripped his heart out and fed it to her on a silver platter. She still drove away.
“She uh…didn’t want to be chased, Jessie.”
“Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t. Either way, this drink isn’t going to fix anything.” She patted the wood in front of him.
He liked her. She was nice. Shouldn’t the people who worked in places like this, be encouraging their customers to throw back their alcohol? She was talking him down from it.
“Isn’t this little pep talk you’re giving me against the rules? Do you not want me to drink this glass and then order another?”
