1
Hollis
Nothing sayswelcome homequite like your childhood best friend ordering you a shot at the same exact moment your ex-boyfriend walks into the very same bar.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groan, glaring at the doorway as if it’s personally responsible for this epic betrayal. Then again, that might be the tequila talking. We did just order our second round of shots.
“What?” Candice asks, her attention shifting from the incredibly hot bartender (the one who looks like he could be Henry Cavill’s distant cousin) back to me.
“Brett just walked in.”
“Wait, what?” Logan asks, popping her head up over Candice’s shoulder as she scans the room for my ex.
Candice winces, her neck sinking low into her shoulders. “Oops.”
My head snaps in her direction. “Oops?”
“There’s a slight chance this could be my fault,” Candice admits sheepishly.
“Candy!” The sound comes out way more shrill than I’d like, but panic tends to do that to a girl. “What did you do? Please tell me you didn’t invite him?”
We’ve been best friends since preschool. She knows my favorite snacks, my childhood crushes, and my deepest, darkest secrets. One would assume she’d know better than to think I’d ever be interested in starting something back up with Brett. If anything, the past two years I spent living in Los Angeles only strengthened my conviction that ending things with him was the right choice.
Has she already forgotten the number one rule of best friends’ club? Never, ever, invite your best friend’s ex to anything. He’s an ex for a reason. She’s lucky we don’t have membership cards, otherwise I’d seriously consider revoking hers.
She shakes her head. “No, of course not. I’m not that stupid,” she insists, though for me, it’s still up for debate. “But I may have told Kenny we were going out tonight to celebrate your return to Texas. Those two are still somehow bro’ing it up as besties, so I’m going to assume it was Kenny with the loose lips.” She places a hand on my knee. “And hey, if that’s what actually happened, I’ve got your back, and he definitely won’t be getting any from me tonight.”
My head dips back as a loud whine escapes my lips.
I’m not usually this dramatic, but seriously? How am I still dealing with this man two whole years later?
I ended things with Brett right after we graduated college, and before I moved halfway across the country. He’d begged and pleaded with me not to break things off, even going so far as to offer to move across the country with me, but I shot him down.
Our college years were fun and all, but despite caring about him, it became increasingly obvious he was much more serious about me than I ever was about him.
The final nail in that coffin came when Kenny, Candice’s longtime high school boyfriend, hinted to her that Brett was looking at engagement rings. Apparently it was his job to get insider information from my best friend about what style of ring I wanted.
Thankfully, she’d had my back and I’d been able to nip that one in the bud before things went too far and Brett got down on one knee.
In our small-town bubble, people getting married right out of college is somehow normal, but the last thing I want or need is normal. I’ve always planned to live an extraordinary life, and for me, staying in a committed relationship with someone I’d outgrown wasn’t the way to make those dreams happen.
Eventually I’ll settle down and plant some roots, but when I do, it will be with the right person. Unfortunately, for Brett Young, it’s just not him.
Even now I can admit as he glances around the bar, likely in search of me, not all of my feelings for him have vanished. I’m not a total monster. He was a great boyfriend, after all. He was kind, attentive, and incredibly good-looking, but just because someone is a decent person doesn’t mean I’m obligated to stay with them.
There are times in life when you have to be honest, even if it means someone gets hurt in the process.
“Maybe it’s just a crazy coincidence,” Logan offers, wearing her usual rose-colored, optimism-powered glasses. “This is one of the best bars in town, after all.”
“Maybe,” I offer, but like usual, I trust my gut, and right now it's screaming that he’s here for a second shot—and not the yummy kind served with salt and a lime.
His eyes find mine and they immediately light up. He makes a beeline straight for us.
Shit!
Would it really be so bad if I ran and hid?
It would make my life so much easier, but it’s clear the time for running has passed. The only thing to do now is focus on the positive, and right now, the only one I’ve got is the hottie behind the bar delivering our shots.
