So I quickly intervene. “Just water for me, please.”
Adam’s frown is evident, prompting Saylor to snark, “That dickhead wants to get you drunk.”
Two glasses are set in front of us, and as I take my first sip, I can’t help but notice the grumpy ghost from last time sitting farther down the bar, glaring at me again. My heart sinks as memories of the first night I was here with Nash flood my mind. Everything was so different back then, exciting. And now, all I want to do is go home, wherever that may be.
Why did I suddenly think of the guys’ guest room?
Fuck.
Adam leans in closer, trying to regain my attention. “So, Sloan, tell me… what do you like to do when you’re not working? I’ve only ever seen you working boats or tables. And poker cards.” His voice is smooth, but I can’t shake off my unease. I can’t quite tell if it’s him or the grumpy ghost’s watchful eyes on me.
Saylor chimes in, “What’s that guy’s problem?” he asks, nodding toward the ghost.
I shrug, giving both of them an answer. “Not quite sure.”
Adam laughs, reaching out to touch my knee. “Smart, beautiful, and funny too.”
God, coming here was such a mistake.
The only point I’ve proven is that I don’t want to be touched by anyone else but the Jones boys.
And that’s not a good point.
“Get your dirty fucking hand off my girl,” Saylor spews, and I quickly stand from the barstool, taking a step back.
“I need the bathroom,” I tell Adam, who smiles and nods.
“Youneedto walk the fuck out of here,” Saylor commands as I make my way over to the hallway that leads to the toilets. Inside the women’s bathroom, I splash some water on my face. “Slo, he is obviously not getting the hint and thinks you’re interested. I told you this won’t just slide as a hangout. Just go.”
“I can’t just go. I agreed to be here, and he waited, and—” I start, but Saylor cuts me off.
“You don’t owe him shit. You don’t even have to say anything. Just leave. Fuck politeness.” He is fuming, and I get it. I think I would act worse if a girl tried to flirt with him.
But I want to stay here, in Lubec, make this my home, a town where everyone knows everyone. Pissing one of them off could make all of them hate me. People who hate me are more willing to call me crazy if they ever see me acting weird around them.
“I’m just gonna sit there for a few more minutes, make small talk, drink my water, and tell him I’m tired. Okay?” I take a deep breath, looking in the mirror and making sure my face doesn’t look as exhausted as I feel.
“I don’t like this. Not one bit,” Saylor announces, but he can’t do shit about it, and he knows.
We make our way out of the bathroom just to come face-to-face with the grumpy ghost.
“Get the fuck out of my bar,” he exclaims, glaring at me even more intensely than before.
“What is your fucking problem?” Saylor asks, standing in front of me, but I side-step around him.
“My problem is that she looks at me like she wants me gone,” the man accuses before his gaze finds mine again. “No, I don’t see a light, and I don’t want to. This is my bar, and I’ll leave over my dead fucking body.”
“Spoiler alert,” Saylor mutters.
“Shut up,” I hiss at Saylor.
“Okay, no problem. Sounds like you know your options, and you can stay if you’re fine here—” I start, really not giving a shit if that ghost wants to stay here forever. It’s not like he’s bothering anyone.
“I’m more than fine. Leave me the fuck alone.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“Perfect, so stop glaring at me because if you’re fine, I’m fine, and there is no reason to be so hostile.” I frown, trying to keep my voice low.
With one last glare, the ghost turns and walks out of the hallway.
