Rowan
I’m a dick. No way around it. Showing up out of nowhere the other day and throwing Violet’s world off its axis is exactly why I’ve stayed the hell away all these years. Wanting something doesn’t mean you should have it.
Tonight, I’m headed to the same dive bar I used to sneak into with my old buddies when we were dumb and seventeen, thinking we knew everything. The same peeling sign hangs out front, the same flickering neon light in the window. I thought it’d be long gone, either bulldozed into a parking lot or turned into some overpriced taco joint. But nope. It’s still here, standing stubborn as hell, just like we were back then.
The guys and I are supposed to catch up and shoot the shit, but all I can think about is Violet and how her smile dropped the second she saw me. Like I’d emptied the air right out of her lungs just by walking into the damn room.
I pull into the lot and spot Jake’s beat-up truck parked sideways, as usual. Apparently, he’s still allergic to parking between the lines. Some things never change.
Inside the dive bar, it smells exactly how I remember. Stale beer and fryer grease. The floor’s sticky, the lighting questionable,and the jukebox is still stuck on a loop of classic rock and sad country ballads.
“Rowan, you son of a bitch!” Jake bellows from a corner booth, already a few rounds in judging by the way he slurs my name like he’s trying to strangle it.
I smirk and slap him on the back hard enough to slosh his beer when I approach. “Still ugly as sin, I see.”
“Better than bein’ pretty and heartless,” he shoots back, tipping his bottle in my direction.
I huff out a laugh. “Heartless? That’s rich, coming from the guy who once ghosted a girl mid-date because she ordered a salad.”
“She said shewasn’t really hungry,” Jake cuts in. “Bold-faced lie. I could hear her stomach grumbling from across the table. Just eat a damn burger and be proud, ya know?”
Beau snorts as I slide into the booth next to him. He’s never been much of a talker, but his presence has always been solid.
“I don’t know, Jake. She could have been the one, salads and all.”
That earns me a chorus of bullshit and middle fingers, and for a second, it’s easy to fall into. Words flying without weight, nothing sticking long enough to matter. It’s like slipping into an old jacket that still fits even if everything else has changed.
This is simple. No expectations. No Violet standing across the room looking at me like I’m something she doesn’t recognize anymore.
Just busted jokes, cheap beer, and the same guys who never asked too many questions when I left.
That is, until Jake decides to break the pattern. “What the hell finally brought you back, man? Beau here doesn’t tell me shit.”
“Here we go,” Beau mutters.
I take a long pull from my bottle and shrug, trying to keep it light. “Got tired of sand and sweat and shit exploding two feet from my head.”
“You’ve been stateside for a while, though, right?”
I let out a long, slow sigh and lean back in the booth. My arm drapes over the cracked vinyl, but the tension in my shoulders doesn’t go anywhere.
“Kind of. I was working private security. Overseas, mostly. High-risk stuff. Pay was good, no strings. No one to answer to but the guy signing the check.”
I don’t tell them the real reason I picked jobs where death was a distinct possibility. Every contract I took, every godforsaken hellhole I volunteered for, was just another way to keep my blood pumping hard enough that I couldn’t think about anything else.
It’s easier to dodge bullets than it is to sit with the fact that I walked away from the only person who ever made me feel like I wasn’t just some piece of trailer park trash destined to repeat my old man’s mistakes. Violet looked at me like I could be something, and that scared the living shit out of me.
So I ran. And then I kept running. I dressed it up as purpose, as work, as necessity. Told myself I was building something, becoming someone worthy. But the truth? I was just too chickenshit to stay and risk proving her wrong about me.
Jake whistles low. “Still chasing adrenaline, huh?”
“Still running from somethin’,” Beau adds, his voice just soft enough for only me to catch.
My jaw tightens. I take a long swig of my beer to give myself something to do, something to swallow down the unease sitting heavy in my gut. “Yeah, well, I’m back now. I needed some quiet and had nowhere else left to go,” I admit, the words slipping out more easily than I expect. It’s not the whole truth, but it’s damn close.
Jake just nods, like he gets it in a way I’m not even sure I do before he swings to his feet and stretches. He mutters something about grabbing another drink. Then, after a beat, Beau asks, “You see her yet?”
My chest tightens as the past crashes back in, all the things I’ve tried to outrun. “Yeah,” I rasp. “Didn’t go well.”
