Page 5 of Never Yours

“Keep it in your pants, son. I don’t know the details, but”—he rakes his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair—“Cass said Ingrid’s going through some shit; might be here for a while. Give her time, okay?”

So help me, if someone hurt her…

My jaw tightens, and a growl inadvertently rumbles from my chest, but I’m startled by a clap on the back. “Down, tiger,” Cassidy laughs.

“Fuck, Cass, you scared the shit outta me.”

“Language,” Pop snaps. “Watch your fucking mouth.” Cass and I laugh while he slides off his seat. “Well, I’m going to check on the house.”

“What about Mike?” I ask with a frown. Pop shouldn’t be doing it by himself. The house has been sitting for a while, and anything could be wrong with it at this point.

“He’s busy with his kid. Karate or something.” He shrugs and asks Cassidy, “Can you come by with flowers for Ingrid? Are daffodils still her favorite?”

How the fuck does he know that?

“Yeah, I’ll stop by Dani’s shop and have her put something together.” Joining Pop on the other side of the bar, she adds, “If he forgot to tell you, Ingrid’s coming by the bar later. Please give her a ride since I have to work… Don’t get any ideas.”

“What the hell? First Pop, now you?”

She laughs and wraps an arm around Pop. “I’ll come see her on my lunch break.” Her levity ceases, and she chews on her lip. “Just… don’t. Please. We all know you had a crush on her in high school…”

Pop huffs a laugh. “That’s putting it lightly.”

“Out, both of you,” I groan, even though he’s right. Neither of them know what happened on prom night, and I intend to keep it that way, but it pisses me off that Ingrid’s hurting enough that she’s back home.

It must be written all over my face when Pop adds, “You’re a good man, son. But listen to your sister, for once.”

With a nod, they both walk out of the bar, leaving me to finish getting everything ready for the after-work rush. My mind is reeling after talking with them, wondering what the hell is going on with Ingrid.

Two hours, three kegs replaced, and both ice bins filled later, I have nothing to do until the only woman I’ve ever loved is supposed to show up. If I’m being honest, I don’t know if it was truly love, or just a teenage obsession, but either way, I’ll be heeding my family’s warning until I find out what brought her back home.

Who am I kidding? All it would take is seeing her beautiful smile again I’d be a fucking goner—like I’m still in fucking high school.

Another thirty minutes pass, and I’m kicking myself for not asking when she would be stopping by. Pop said two hours until she was in town, but depending on if she is visiting with friends first, it could be ten minutes or another hour. The anticipation is killing me.

Lauren puts on her half apron and steps behind the bar with a wide smile. As she finishes tying it, she leans against the counter. “So… anything exciting happening today?”

“Nope,” I lie, untying my own apron. “Going to take ten before the rush.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with Ingrid being back in town, would it?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “I get it. I follow her on social media, she’s fucking hot.” I stifle a groan, and as I’m about to storm off, she grips my wrist. “I’m kidding! Well, not really, she is hot. But, I ran into your dad at the hardware store earlier, and he mentioned fixing a sink for her.”

“What’s wrong with the sink?” Unfortunately, it comes out like a fucking growl, making Lauren laugh.

“Relax! It’s fine. Sheesh, you’re on edge. It’s just a small leak so he’s replacing the faucet.” She smirks, entirely too excited about this. In the last year that we’ve worked together, she’s seen me go on exactly two dates, merely to placate the nosy people in town. Meanwhile, she’s fucked nearly all of the men here, and half the women—or at least it feels that way. Even though it was a decade ago, I’m still hung up on the girl who got away. “Take your break. Your dad said she’s coming by, so I’ll let you know the moment she comes in.”

Lauren playfully shoves me a few feet toward the door, and I walk the rest of the way out back to sweep the patio—I need to keep busy. With the sky gray and more clouds rolling in, it’s unlikely anyone will be out here tonight, but with my stomach in knots, I want to keep moving to keep my mind quiet.

Misted raindrops dust my hair, so once the patio is cleared off, I head back inside. Just like the night that ruined me, I only make it three steps before I pause, rooted in place. My stomach drops, and my heart leaps out of my damn chest. I can’t fucking breathe.

Ingrid.

All at once, memories of the best and worst night of my life hit me. Lauren is laughing with Tim at the end of the bar. When she spots me, she mouths “sorry” but continues talking to him. I don’t blame her, Tim always tips her well. Seeing Ingrid after all this time feels like a piece of a puzzle I’ve been searching for.

Ingrid’s laughing with Travis who’s sitting to her right. Approaching with caution, I put my apron back on and blow out a long breath—now is as good a time as any to make a fucking fool of myself. Spotting an ereader face-down on the bar, I interrupt them.

“What’cha reading?”

What’cha reading? That’s the best you’ve got? I’m already screwing this up.

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