Page 57 of Fighting Jacob

“Jacob...what are you doing here on a Sunday afternoon?”

I take a moment to decide if her high tone is shock or anger before answering, “Just finished helping Emily move, figured I could waste the calories on a couple of beers.” I’m leaning toward shocked, even with sweat beading her neck.

She throws her cloth onto the counter. “Speaking of beer, can you help me bring up some cartons from the cold room?”

“Sure.” When she races for the back exit of the bar, my brows furrow. “Now?”

She’s so eager to get outside, I almost miss her head bob. I jog to catch up with her, equally alarmed and excited. I’ve never been granted access to this half of Mavs before, so I’m somewhat excited she needs my help. It gives me a chance to snoop.

When I enter the cold room, the first thing I notice is that it’s half-empty. It’s lucky Ollie schedules a delivery every Friday afternoon, or Noah’s pay would be half the pittance it already is.

“Which boxes do you want?” When my question is met with silence, I spin around to face Maggie. Her attention is fixed on something outside. “Maggie?”

“Huh?” She joins me inside the cold room, her breaths visible in the frigid air.

I stare at her, struggling to work out why she’s such a scatterbrain today before questioning again, “Which cartons of beer do you need?”

“Oh... umm. .. that one.” She points to a single box stacked by itself. It looks like a Chinese-manufactured beer.

Scrunching my brows, I peer back at Maggie. “Just that one?”

She stops glancing outside to peer back at me. “Yep.” Her shrug is as off-putting as the remorse in her eyes.

“Alright.”

I collect the carton of beer she’s requesting before attempting to leave the cold room. I say "attempt" because Maggie is blocking my exit. When I step to the left, she steps to the right, trapping me in the icebox that's close to turning my lips blue.

“Maggie...?” I want to say more, but I’m too stunned by the petrified look in her eyes. It’s giving me more chills than the cold conditions surrounding me.

“I didn’t need your help with the beer. I just needed you out of the bar before you saw them.”

My throat works hard to swallow. “Saw who?” I already know whom she’s referring to, I just want her to click all the pieces of the puzzle together for me.

“Lola...”

My breath hitches in my throat.

“And Callum.”

My stomach slithers into my gut. I dump the beer back on the shelf and sprint out of the cold room, accidentally bumping into Maggie on my way past. With my heart pounding in my ears, I drag my eyes up and down the half-full parking lot before sprinting into the street. I can’t see Lola anywhere.

I discover why when Maggie says, “They just left—”

“They?” Lola couldn’t possibly be that stupid, could she? “Is Lola with Callum?” The way I murmur "with" leaves no doubt about what I'm asking. Is Lola dating Callum?

"They looked together." Maggie steps closer to me, her eyes revealing whose side she's on. “I refused to serve him. I told him he was never to step foot in my bar again."

I remain quiet for several long minutes. Just the thought of Callum being anywhere near Lola makes me fucking furious. He hurt her—more than once, so why will she speak to him and not me?

“Maybe they’re just friends. Like Lola and you were friends,” Maggie suggests.

Friends, yep, that was all we were, friends who slept with each other, but I still can’t believe she'd take Callum back. He didn’t just attack her once; he did it twice, and the second time it was in the middle of the fucking day. How could she trust being alone with him if he can do something like that in public?

“Does Noah know?” I question Maggie.

Lola’s stupid decisions don’t just affect me; they also affect Noah since he’s dating her little sister.

“No, today was the first time I saw them together. Do you think I should tell him?”

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