He took off, and Emerson started laughing. “I think he just shit his pants.”
“Why are you always such an ass?”
He stopped laughing and glared at Bri. “For the record, I was going to give him a ride home.”
“You were?” Gunn had joined the conversation.
Emerson amended, “I was going to have Gunn give him a ride home, so you two lovebirds didn’t have to part.” He fixed me with a glare. “You’re welcome.”
Bri rolled her eyes. “You weren’t going to give him a ride home, and you know it. You just wanted to scare him, like you did before, so he wouldn’t sit with us.”
“Again,” Emerson bit out. His scowl deepened. “I did that shit for Luke. That prick just wants in your pants, and he’s using you for his band. You make that band. His band sucks. He sings off-pitch half the time and tries to cover it up, and the other two are hardly on beat. The only thing they have going for them is their hot drummer.”
“If you’re hoping to piss me off by insulting Callen, it’s not going to work. I’m not attached to them, so I don’t care what you say about them.”
“You’re right. We all know what band you’re attached to—”
“This isn’t happening.” I stepped between them and said to Emerson, “Walk.”
“I was trying to help you.”
“I know, but you’re not anymore. Walk away.”
“Luke—”
I lowered my voice. “Walk, Emerson.”
Gunn was waiting to the side, and I nodded my head at him. He took hold of Emerson’s arm and began to drag him away. I thought Emerson would protest, but he didn’t. He walked with him, his head hanging down. A defeated air settled over him.
I waited until they had disappeared over the hill and then turned to Brielle. She was still behind me, gripping her chair tightly in one hand. Her blanket had been thrown over her shoulder.
“Will he always hate me?” She sounded defeated, too.
I didn’t know, but I took the chair from her. “Can I get a ride to The Shack?”
She closed her eyes and drew in a breath. Pain flashed over her face, but she nodded. “Yeah.”
It was right. Being with her and sitting next to her felt right. Having her sit on my lap and holding her felt right, too.
“I was the one who robbed your dad. I took the money—it was my fault.”
“That’s why you went to Elijah?”
Her head moved up and down. She whispered, with tears streaming down her face, “I’m sorry, Luke. I’m so sorry.”
Three years.
That sat on the bottom of my stomach for a year, four months, two weeks, and one day. My hand curved around the door handle, and I held onto it tightly. Glancing at her as she drove, I watched as she bit her lip. She was always biting her lip. There were bags underneath her eyes, and her arm was rigid.
Three years. I didn’t know if I could make that okay in my head. If she could lie about that, then… What else was she lying about? a voice whispered in my head, feeding the black hole inside me.
She skirted her eyes to mine, but then looked away just as quickly.
The guys wanted her in the band again, but fuck—how could I do that? How could I play with her and not have her? I let out a soft breath of air. No matter what took place, there was no happy ending for us.
I didn’t trust her.
The drive to The Shack was made in silence. When we got there, I had her pull around to the back door. When we went inside, she went straight to the bar. I paused, heading for the front door to let everyone inside, but at the sight of her behind my bar, a force slammed into my chest.
She hesitated, seeing my reaction. “What?”
That was right—having her here—in my bar. I forced my head to move side to side. “Nothing.”
“Oh.” She frowned, but grabbed a pitcher and went to the sink.
I had to force myself to look away. Shaking my head, I cleared my thoughts and went to the door. Unlocking it, I stepped back as everyone filed inside. They greeted me as they moved past me. Some of the girls touched my chest or arm, and a few of the guys thumped me on the shoulder. After the last one entered, I let the door close again and trailed behind the crowd. A group had congregated in front of the bar while Brielle was busy filling drinks. One of the bands jumped onto the stage. A guy caught my gaze and pointed to the guitar. “You mind?”
“Have at it.”
The rest of his band joined him, and soon they started playing.
Dustin came in and waved with a set of keys in his hands. “We got the kegs. #fastestkegrunever!” He asked, “You got a back door or something where we can roll these bad boys in?”
“Yeah.” I started forward. “There’s a door by the bar. Hold on.”
Dustin disappeared outside.
Bri called out, “I got it.”
“You sure?”
She nodded and disappeared to the other end of the bar. The door was located around the corner, and it wasn’t long before Dustin’s voice was heard again, loud and clear, when he hollered, “We got beer chicks here. They’re rolling through. Watch out, folks!” Three kegs were rolled in. He had the first one, and two more guys brought the others.
Brielle went around them and showed Dustin where to put the kegs.
Candy came in, following behind the kegs. She and her friends hopped onto the bar stools, and it wasn’t long before Brielle had the kegs hooked up and was handing out the beer. Dustin got the first pitcher and came over to me.
He filled a plastic cup. “Drink up, Luke. This is the time for you to relax and enjoy being a god.”
“Dustin, how I’ve missed having you on tour with us.”
He barked out a loud laugh before he drank from his own pitcher. He handed his cup to someone passing by and threw his free arm around my shoulder. “The lifestyle was amazing. I fucking loved it, but, man, I’ll admit I was happy to get away from the Priss Bitch.”
I grunted. I liked that name.
“Don’t tell me they’re still doing the same shit?” Before I could answer, he glanced around. “Where are the guys?”
“They’ll be here.”
“They better be. I only have so many days home. I want to party hardy with you guys, and I can’t do that unless those guys are here, too.” He paused, tightening his hold on the pitcher before he said, “Emerson seemed in his normal form. How’s that going?”
“Why are you always such an ass?”
He stopped laughing and glared at Bri. “For the record, I was going to give him a ride home.”
“You were?” Gunn had joined the conversation.
Emerson amended, “I was going to have Gunn give him a ride home, so you two lovebirds didn’t have to part.” He fixed me with a glare. “You’re welcome.”
Bri rolled her eyes. “You weren’t going to give him a ride home, and you know it. You just wanted to scare him, like you did before, so he wouldn’t sit with us.”
“Again,” Emerson bit out. His scowl deepened. “I did that shit for Luke. That prick just wants in your pants, and he’s using you for his band. You make that band. His band sucks. He sings off-pitch half the time and tries to cover it up, and the other two are hardly on beat. The only thing they have going for them is their hot drummer.”
“If you’re hoping to piss me off by insulting Callen, it’s not going to work. I’m not attached to them, so I don’t care what you say about them.”
“You’re right. We all know what band you’re attached to—”
“This isn’t happening.” I stepped between them and said to Emerson, “Walk.”
“I was trying to help you.”
“I know, but you’re not anymore. Walk away.”
“Luke—”
I lowered my voice. “Walk, Emerson.”
Gunn was waiting to the side, and I nodded my head at him. He took hold of Emerson’s arm and began to drag him away. I thought Emerson would protest, but he didn’t. He walked with him, his head hanging down. A defeated air settled over him.
I waited until they had disappeared over the hill and then turned to Brielle. She was still behind me, gripping her chair tightly in one hand. Her blanket had been thrown over her shoulder.
“Will he always hate me?” She sounded defeated, too.
I didn’t know, but I took the chair from her. “Can I get a ride to The Shack?”
She closed her eyes and drew in a breath. Pain flashed over her face, but she nodded. “Yeah.”
It was right. Being with her and sitting next to her felt right. Having her sit on my lap and holding her felt right, too.
“I was the one who robbed your dad. I took the money—it was my fault.”
“That’s why you went to Elijah?”
Her head moved up and down. She whispered, with tears streaming down her face, “I’m sorry, Luke. I’m so sorry.”
Three years.
That sat on the bottom of my stomach for a year, four months, two weeks, and one day. My hand curved around the door handle, and I held onto it tightly. Glancing at her as she drove, I watched as she bit her lip. She was always biting her lip. There were bags underneath her eyes, and her arm was rigid.
Three years. I didn’t know if I could make that okay in my head. If she could lie about that, then… What else was she lying about? a voice whispered in my head, feeding the black hole inside me.
She skirted her eyes to mine, but then looked away just as quickly.
The guys wanted her in the band again, but fuck—how could I do that? How could I play with her and not have her? I let out a soft breath of air. No matter what took place, there was no happy ending for us.
I didn’t trust her.
The drive to The Shack was made in silence. When we got there, I had her pull around to the back door. When we went inside, she went straight to the bar. I paused, heading for the front door to let everyone inside, but at the sight of her behind my bar, a force slammed into my chest.
She hesitated, seeing my reaction. “What?”
That was right—having her here—in my bar. I forced my head to move side to side. “Nothing.”
“Oh.” She frowned, but grabbed a pitcher and went to the sink.
I had to force myself to look away. Shaking my head, I cleared my thoughts and went to the door. Unlocking it, I stepped back as everyone filed inside. They greeted me as they moved past me. Some of the girls touched my chest or arm, and a few of the guys thumped me on the shoulder. After the last one entered, I let the door close again and trailed behind the crowd. A group had congregated in front of the bar while Brielle was busy filling drinks. One of the bands jumped onto the stage. A guy caught my gaze and pointed to the guitar. “You mind?”
“Have at it.”
The rest of his band joined him, and soon they started playing.
Dustin came in and waved with a set of keys in his hands. “We got the kegs. #fastestkegrunever!” He asked, “You got a back door or something where we can roll these bad boys in?”
“Yeah.” I started forward. “There’s a door by the bar. Hold on.”
Dustin disappeared outside.
Bri called out, “I got it.”
“You sure?”
She nodded and disappeared to the other end of the bar. The door was located around the corner, and it wasn’t long before Dustin’s voice was heard again, loud and clear, when he hollered, “We got beer chicks here. They’re rolling through. Watch out, folks!” Three kegs were rolled in. He had the first one, and two more guys brought the others.
Brielle went around them and showed Dustin where to put the kegs.
Candy came in, following behind the kegs. She and her friends hopped onto the bar stools, and it wasn’t long before Brielle had the kegs hooked up and was handing out the beer. Dustin got the first pitcher and came over to me.
He filled a plastic cup. “Drink up, Luke. This is the time for you to relax and enjoy being a god.”
“Dustin, how I’ve missed having you on tour with us.”
He barked out a loud laugh before he drank from his own pitcher. He handed his cup to someone passing by and threw his free arm around my shoulder. “The lifestyle was amazing. I fucking loved it, but, man, I’ll admit I was happy to get away from the Priss Bitch.”
I grunted. I liked that name.
“Don’t tell me they’re still doing the same shit?” Before I could answer, he glanced around. “Where are the guys?”
“They’ll be here.”
“They better be. I only have so many days home. I want to party hardy with you guys, and I can’t do that unless those guys are here, too.” He paused, tightening his hold on the pitcher before he said, “Emerson seemed in his normal form. How’s that going?”
