Page 33 of Bone’s Choice

“Usually.”

“Then I can handle rough.”

I believed her. Didn’t mean I particularly liked the idea of her behind that bar dealing with some of the assholes who came through here. Also didn’t mean I got a fucking vote. “You apply anywhere else?”

“Three other bars.”

“Which ones?”

Hazel laughed.

“What?”

“Are you going to give me a Yelp review on every place I apply?”

“Maybe.”

“Good to know.” She leaned against the side of her SUV. “Three bars and the family restaurant on the other side of town.”

I knew the place.

Quiet. Busy. Mostly families and old people. For some reason, I liked that option better. “The restaurant’s decent.”

“That means I should work there?”

“Means it’s decent.”

“Very helpful.”

“You’re welcome.”

She smiled again.

I took the last drag from my cigarette. Neither of us said anything for a few seconds. It should’ve been awkward, but it wasn’t.

Hazel looked toward the road, then back at Bing’s. She sighed. “I should probably keep going.”

I should too. That had been the whole fucking point of leaving the clubhouse.

Ride and clear my head. Not sit in a parking lot talking to my mother’s new neighbor. “Guess I’ll let you get back to it.”

Hazel nodded. “Guess so.”

I didn’t move.

Neither did she.

What the fuck? I’d stopped to see what she was doing. She’d told me, so now the conversation was over. There wasn’t any reason to stay. Except some part of me didn’t particularly want to leave yet.

That shit made no sense, because I barely knew her.

She was a pretty woman. Funny. Independent enough to drag a trailer from Ohio by herself.

None of those things explained why I’d turned my fucking bike around.

I tossed my cigarette onto the pavement and ground it out beneath my boot.

Enough.