Usually, that was part of the appeal.
Music pounded through the space hard enough to shake the air, people shouted over pool tables and giant beer pong, pins clacked in the arcade section, and every few seconds, somebody at the axe lanes let out some kind of cheer or curse depending on how bad they sucked.The whole place smelled like beer, fryer grease, perfume, sweat, and whatever cleaner Mason used that never quite covered any of it.
It was Weston nightlife.Our nightlife.
The kind of place that stayed packed because there wasn’t shit else like it around and because the Fallen Lords knew how to run a room people didn’t want to leave.
Tonight, though, all the noise just sat wrong.
I was planted on a barstool with Oliver on one side of me and Ender and Basil crowding the other end.Thorn was behind the bar polishing a glass like he had all night in front of him.The light over the bottles hit the shelves behind him, making the liquor gleam.Waitresses wove between tables with trays balanced on one hand.Penny crossed the floor near the pool tables, Calla right behind her, both of them dodging a group of laughing idiots like it was second nature.Adley was over by the far end of the room, taking an order from a table of women already half-lit.
Everything looked normal.
Felt normal.
I was the thing that wasn’t.
I tipped back the last of my beer and set the empty glass down harder than I meant to.“Give me another one.”
Thorn didn’t even look up right away.He kept working the rag around the glass, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world.“Nah.I think you’re good, man.You’re already going to have to be a backpack tonight.”
“Not it,” Basil and Ender said at the same time.
Oliver raised his hand from beside me.“Also not it.Your ass can walk home, or you can charm one of the chicks to give you a ride.”
I scoffed and lifted the empty glass, turning it to catch the last drop.Nothing came out.
“Are you drinking something away?”Thorn asked.
I set the glass down and shook my head.“Just like beer.”
Thorn gave me a flat look.“We all like beer, brother, but none of us are drunk off our asses on a Wednesday night.”
I shrugged and didn’t care what he thought.Didn’t care what any of them thought.I felt like drinking, so I was drinking.
Simple.
At least, it should’ve been.
Oliver and I had gone for a long ride earlier, cutting through roads outside town just because it was one of those afternoons that made sitting still feel stupid.It had been good.Wind, road, no reason to talk.Exactly what I’d needed.
Until we’d rolled past the Dairy Bar.
Until I’d seen Ever outside with that guy.
The memory hit harder than the alcohol had.
Her hand on his chest.His arm around her waist.The easy way he’d pulled her in like he already belonged there.
I stared at the bar, jaw tightening before I forced it loose again.
He’d looked like some wannabe biker on his basic Harley.Who the hell rode a Harley and didn’t make it his?No changes, no edge, no personality.Just bought the damn thing and called it good.
And the way he’d kissed her… Fucking hell.
Something in my chest went hard again, mean and hot and impossible to name without sounding like an idiot.
I hadn’t fucking liked it.
