Page 12 of Wish You Were Mine

I grinned. “Of course they’re doing well. You’re amazing.”

Bailey had started a health and beauty blog years ago, which had escalated into a multi-platform, influencing mini-empire where she also shared gymnastics tips and advice for girls who were interested in experiencing the great outdoors but weren’t stereotypically “outdoorsy.”

“Thanks, babe.” She blew me a kiss, then smiled at someone over my shoulder.

I turned. Asher was hovering behind me, an empty glass clasped in each hand.

“God, you look like crap.” I clapped my hand to my mouth, horrified. Based on the somber mood at their table, it had been a hard day, and I had to go and let that pop out?

It was true. He did look terrible, but it wasn’t as if he needed to hear it.

He put the glasses on the bar. “Don’t start, Summer. Not tonight. Refills all around please, Bailey.”

“Sure thing, Ash.” Her sweet smile didn’t budge as she got to work, and for once, I wished I was a little more like her. Perhaps then I wouldn’t put my foot in my mouth so often. Maybe my family were right to worry about my impulsiveness getting the better of me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. “We lost someone today.”

My heart dropped. “I’m so sorry.”

Perhaps in big cities, the emergency crew would be used to losing people, but fatal accidents—or any fatalities—were rare out here. I couldn’t begin to imagine how it felt. I was shattered enough when I was unable to save someone’s pet. For it to be a human…

Yeah, rough.

I resisted the urge to hug him. He wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. “Want to talk about it?”

He shrugged. “Not much to talk about. It was a car accident.”

I waited, hoping he might go on. Eventually, he did.

“Fuck, it was awful. The guy kept yelling at us to save his wife, but she was long gone.” He shook his head. “There was no way… We couldn’t do anything, but he was desperate. I felt so bad for him.”

My stomach clenched. This time, I didn’t hesitate to put my hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. That must have been horrible.”

“Yeah.” His expression was bleak. “We had to sedate him so we could transport him to the hospital safely. Once he woke up, he just kept crying, and there was nothing we could do to help.”

Emotion clogged my throat. “I can’t even imagine how difficult that was for you.”

Or for that poor man. Having his wife stolen from him so suddenly and cruelly. He would never be the same.

“Not as hard as it was for him,” he said, as if he’d heard my thoughts. Something dark tainted his voice, and I studied him closely. What was that flicker in his eyes? Guilt, or something else?

I bit my lip, praying that I wasn’t about to overstep. “I hope you know it wasn’t your fault. If she was already dead before you got there, then you couldn’t save her, right?”

He nodded, but his face was twisted. Conflicted. “Logically, I know that, but it’s hard to remember sometimes. Especially when people are hurting so badly.”

Bailey finished pouring his table’s drinks and loaded them onto a metal tray.

Asher slid the tray off the bar. “Have a good night, Summer.”

He walked away, his footsteps dragging and his dark head hanging low. He reminded me of a kicked puppy, and I wanted to hold him and tell him it would all be okay. But after the day he’d had, nothing I could say would take away his pain.

“He won’t sleep well tonight,” Bailey murmured.

“I know.”

We probably weren’t supposed to be aware of Asher’s issues with insomnia when he got stressed, but my brothers could be dreadful gossips.

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