Page 8 of The Light We Lost

“You’re not wrong.” I laughed, ignoring the sorry look Lisa shot me. It was all in good fun. I could take a joke. There was nothing Sam could say that I didn’t already know. I hit the ball, glad the room had fallen silent so I could hear the sweet sound of it sinking in. “But you are a loser.”

Charlie hollered a yell, and you would’ve thought by the way he flung Lisa onto his shoulder he’d won a million dollars. “Buy you a drink?” Sam asked, shaking my hand.

“Nah.” I glanced at the bar, and after still not seeing Heath, I decided I should leave. I’d tested my luck enough. “I’m going to leave—”

“What’s that, Lisa?” Charlie taunted, still lugging her around. “You want me to take you home and show you what a real man does to celebrate?”

“I’m going to castrate you,” she warned as he set her down, though the kiss she gave him said otherwise. But it was nothing more than a distraction, as barely a second later, she dumped a drink on his head.

Charlie feigned shock, like they hadn’t done this dance since they were kids. Lisa squealed, failing to escape him as he pulled her to his chest. I watched them, and while I was glad they’d lasted over the years, something that felt like true envy wove through me.

Time to go.

Before I could manage a step, a brittle voice asked, “How do you plan on celebrating?”

I glanced to my right, recognizing the woman beside me. Her hair was blonde, falling over her shoulders and onto her jean jacket. Chewing a piece of gum, she peered up at me, her eyes the wrong shade of brown. Bethany smiled at me, and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to return it. “By going to bed. Alone.”

“That’s no fun.” Charlie wrapped an arm around Lisa. “Remember when we’d go on joyrides around town after we won a game? Those were the good ol’ days.”

I kept my mouth shut, not sure if I agreed or disagreed about our time in high school being the glory days. I never had the chance to decide because Sam continued, “And then Nolan would go off and get a special ride of his own.”

I rolled my hand into a fist.Relax.Sam had drunk at least four beers, and it would be unfair to hold it against him. But I almost considered letting my fist fly when he said, “She was a wild bull, that one.”

“We all make mistakes.” Bethany stepped into my side, her fingers grazing mine. “Nolan has better taste now.”

I tucked my hands in my pockets, and it was only the sight of Heath walking in through the back door that had me not running for the hills. I remained where I was, biding my time as Sam added, “Yeah, he prefers his women to be from out of town.”

I shrugged. There was no sense in denying it. If they were from out of town, there was less chance of word spreading through Wallowpine. And my business could stay my own.

“Your taste might have to change because I heard Heath is tearing this place down. Won’t be so easy for you to pick up strangers,” Bethany told me, apparently not realizing I hadn’t been inside the bar in well over a year.

“What a shame,” I muttered, pretending I hadn’t heard of Heath’s intentions. He’d listed it for sale on and off throughout the last decade, but this was the first time I’d caught word of him tearing it down. He apparently had an offer for the land. It was why I’d raced to the bank this afternoon and then sat in the bar parking lot for two hours before I worked up the nerve to step inside.

It had nothing to do with picking up any out-of-towner.

Done wasting time, I walked to the counter. “Heath!” By the way he rolled his eyes, I assumed he knew why I was here. “I want to buy the bar.”

He shook his head, long dark hair falling over his shoulder. “Nope.”

“I’ll give you more than your asking price,” I pressed, refusing to give in so easily. I wasn’t leaving until I bought this bar, and everything that came with it.

“The buyer already offered me five grand more than I listed it for.” His words were a punch to the gut. “Unless you’re willing to give me more than that, I assume we’re done here.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. Shit. I had money set aside, but it wasn’t enough to catch Heath’s eye, and I wasn’t sure the bank would give me a better loan. “Come on, Heath,” I tried, deciding to use a different method. “Do you even know who the hell you’re selling the bar to?” He didn’t respond, but the way he avoided my gaze was answer enough. I’d bet anything it was some out-of-towner, looking to bring a bit of city life to the boonies. “At least if you sell it to me, you know who you’re giving it to. And I sure as hell won’t tear your hard work down.”

He pursed his lips together, likely thinking I had a point. He had known me my entire life, even had pictures of me playing baseball framed on his walls. He’d beamed with pride when he hung them nearly a decade ago, even insisted I sign afew. Plenty had changed since then. I was positive the pride he’d once felt toward me was gone, but him keeping them up had to mean something.

“What the hell are you going to do with a bar?” He braced a tattooed forearm against the counter. “You’re already running your daddy’s game shop. And I know your woodworking’s taking off.”

I shrugged. “I haven’t figured it out completely yet—”

“Then no.”

“Come on, Heath.”

“No.” There was finality in his voice. “As I told you the last three times, I can’t in good conscience sell you this bar when you know it would make your dad roll over in his grave. I know you might not believe it, but I’m sure he had a good reason for not helping you buy it when he was alive.”

I stared at him, failing to find the words to stop him from walking away. I let out a long and low curse. There went my last chance. I wrung my hands through my hair, tugging at the strands as a voice said, “You look like you just died.”

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