Page 5 of The Version You Hide

“Yeah. Fine,” I sigh. Though, to be honest, I wish I was at home watching Netflix in my pyjamas.

“What was that all about?” she waves an arm between me and Dylan, still standing near the bonfire down on the beach.

I open my mouth to tell her it’s nothing, that everything is fine. But the words are knocked straight out of my mouth as Liv’s bridal bouquet sails through the air in my direction, colliding so forcefully with my teeth, I fear an inevitable trip to the dentist. I splutter, puffing away the tiny petals that have embedded themselves in the shiny lip gloss that Kristen also insisted I wear.

Once I’ve recovered from the initial shock, I spare a glance down at my hands where my fingers clumsily grip the flowers, my black nail polish a stark contrast to the pale pink.

“Eww!” I screech. “I don’t want it!”

I drop the bouquet in an instant and several women dive down at my bare feet, clawing at each other in a desperate attempt to claim the prize I’ve rejected.

Pamela Riley rises a moment later, lifting the bouquet to the sky in victory. “I got it!” she squeals.

Still gaping, I turn around slowly to find Kristen giggling beside me.

Henley is doubled over in laughter too. And behind him in the distance, his skin aglow in the firelight, Dylan watches the scene play out.

In his defence, he does try to disguise the smirk that’s intent on making its way across his features. Too bad I can see the glint in his eyes from here as they crease at the corners.

My stare locks on his for a fleeting moment before Kristen’s shriek pierces the night. “Hey! What the hell happened to my dress?!”

Chapter 2

MACKENZIE

“Hey, what happened to that pallet out back?” Dylan looks uncharacteristically perturbed, a veil of annoyance falling over his face.

“What pallet?” I ask, seemingly uninterested as I shuffle dirty glasses into a drink tray.

“The one that was supposed to be delivered this morning,” he replies, an impatient breath leaving him. His hand comes up to swipe at his forehead as he begins to second guess himself. “I’m sure Corey said it was coming today.”

This is possibly the most agitated I’ve ever seen him, and I can’t deny that it amuses me. I know which pallet he’s referring to, of course. I just like watching him sweat it.

It’s my third week working here at the tavern and I’m liking it so far. There’s always something to be done and I’m not one to shy away from hard work. After what feels like months of standing still, not knowing what the hell I’m doing with my life, keeping busy is good for me.

Not that I’m any closer to knowing what the hell I’m doing with my life. I have a feeling the jury will be out on that one for a while to come.

Tormenting Dylan has become the highlight of my day. He strolls into every shift beaming with positive energy and a sunshiny-ness that is honestly nauseating. So, I’ve taken it upon myself to knock him down a few pegs when the opportunity arises. I don’t even have to try. Pessimism is second nature to me.

“Oh, that pallet!” I say, my tone one of mock aloofness. I watch as his eyebrows shoot up in panic and let out a laugh. “Relax. I’ve unpacked it already.”

“You unpacked it,” he deadpans. “An entire pallet of alcoholic beverages. Yourself. Before lunch.”

“Yeah. It’s my job, isn’t it? The fridges were empty. I stocked them. The rest is in the cool room.” Balancing the tray of glasses, I push past him to get to the sink.

He glances at the fridge behind the bar, then turns, following my movements. “Wow, that’s impressive. Corey’s gonna have to pick up his game. Great job, Kenz!”

He holds up a hand for a high five.

“It’s Mackenzie.” I correct him as I roll my eyes and slap my palm to his.

And holy Jesus. How the hell are his hands so soft?

“You should probably go for your lunch break while it’s quiet,” he suggests, sparing a quick glance at the Garmin sports watch wrapped around his left wrist.

“Sure,” I reply as I watch him return to the office at the back.

“You get off on torturing that poor guy, don’t you?” A voice draws my attention away from the hallway Dylan has disappeared into and I look up to see Jade, one of our regulars, perched upon a bar stool to my right. She grins as she readjusts her aviator sunglasses atop her dark waves.

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