She laughs it off like I told the world’s greatest joke, but the only thing I find remotely funny is that she thinks I’m joking at all. I’ve never been more serious.
“You’re actually insane,” she says.
I chuckle. “Me? You just promised we’d be at family dinner.”
She tosses the throw pillow at me before standing. “I could use a drink.”
“Make it two.”
As Angie disappears into the kitchen, I take the opportunity to respond to Tyler’s text message.
Me: Big words from the man who didn’t stick around.
Me: One of us had to be the better man. We both know it was always going to be me.
Tyler: Enjoy it while it lasts.
Chapter 5
The One That Got Away
? Giving You Up - Kameron Marlowe
Griffin
Three Years Ago
I kickthe snow off my boots and slide onto a stool at the end of the bar. The town is still recovering from the storm that shut us down for a week before Christmas, and we’re all existing in that weird time leading up to the new year when nobody remembers what day it is.
Liam materializes in front of me with a towel slung over his shoulder and sets a coaster on the bar. “Usual?”
I hold up two fingers.
“Double?” His brows raise. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Much rather drink about it.”
He nods once and pours me a double on ice.
Ruby dated Liam’s brother in high school. There’s a long, messy history there, but Liam’s a good guy, and he’s alwaysbeen good to my sister. Doesn’t mean I want to tell him about my messy history with Angelina, though.
A cool breeze wafts in from outside, and Tyler takes the stool next to mine. “Fancy meeting you here,” he says sarcastically.
We’ve been friends since our saddle bronc days. There was some friendly competition between us back then, and I edged him out of a few statewide competitions. It took its toll on my body, leading me to retire a few years back. Tyler stuck it out for another year, but when he lost his dad, he was forced to hang up his spurs and take over his family’s dairy farm. I’m the closest thing he has left to family.
Liam slides my drink across the bar before turning his attention to Tyler. “What can I get ya?”
“Pint of whatever’s on tap”—he jerks his thumb in my direction—“put it on his tab.”
“Fuck you. Pay for your own drinks.”
“I had a pretty little redhead in my bed when you called me. You owe me.”
I shake my head and blow out a breath. Tyler’s a bit like whiskey. You have to get past the initial burn to find the pleasant notes under the surface.
I bring the drink to my lips and throw back half of it, letting the burn chase away the dull ache I still can’t seem to shake two years later. It’s like she imprinted herself on my soul.
I clear my throat and stare at a random spot on the wall. I’ve never been much for talking about feelings and shit, but Tyler’s the only one who knows about what happened between Angelina and me back in Colorado.
