Page 8 of Broken Hearts

“Um, we do have a shop to open,” I state, even though we’ve always been pretty casual about actual opening hours, and it’s still early.

“So get moving then,” Alana says, giving me a smile as she links her arm through Sage’s and leads her out the back of the shop to the stairs that lead up to the apartment.

“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter as I make my way outside, clicking the key fob as I try to find this chick’s rental. I hear a beep and see the lights on a small SUV flash, and I make my way over, climbing into the driver’s side.

I move the car around to the side of the shop before grabbing her suitcase from the trunk and carrying it upstairs to Mitch’s apartment. I can already hear Alana and Sage chatting like they’re old friends, which is typical Alana.

She’s always been this way, and it’s half the reason she and I are friends. The other half being Mitch, of course. But I never stood a chance, no matter how many walls I put up or how many times I was an asshole to her back when I first found this place. She just kept on being nice to me, chatting with me like we’d known each other forever, and after a while, it felt like we had.

“Here’s your bag,” I say, wheeling it into the living room. The apartment is small, but because it’s open plan, it feels more spacious. The only room is the bathroom; the rest of the place is just open with the bed down one end and the living and kitchen area down the other. The guesthouse I live in is probably bigger, but this place is awesome because of the balcony that runs along the whole front wall, facing the ocean. There are no blinds at all, but it wouldn’t matter. Surfers always wake with the sun. Not sure how Sage is going to deal with that, being a city girl and all.

“Thank you,” Sage says, offering me a small smile.

“I moved your car too,” I add, dropping the keys onto the small coffee table. “I gotta go open the shop.” I give Alana a pointed look as though to remind her she also needs to come to work too before turning and heading back downstairs.

An hour later, Alana finally comes back down, wandering into the shop with a smile on her face. “She is so nice!” she says. “Seriously, Nate, you’re gonna love her!”

“Not likely,” I mutter as I finish restocking the sunscreen.

Alana slaps my arm as she leans against the counter. “Don’t be a dick, Nate, seriously. I know you’re pissed you knew nothing about her, but like I said, that’s hardly her fault.”

“Whatever,” I say.

“Nate!” she whisper-shouts, even though the shop is empty.

“What?” I ask, turning to face her. “Just because you two are suddenly BFFs doesn’t mean I have to do the same. I know nothing about her, Alana.”

“Only because you’re being a stubborn dick and not even trying to get to know her.”

“What’s the point?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. “She’s only here to claim all of this.” My eyes flick around the shop before returning to Alana. “And probably close it all down.”

“You don’t know that,” she says, her words low.

“Oh what, you didn’t find that out during your little get-to-know-you session?” I say sarcastically.

“Ugh, jesus, you know you can be a real asshole at times?” she now says, punching my arm. “I’m going to get us some coffee. Do me a favor and try to pull the stick out of your ass while I’m gone, will you?”

She walks out without waiting for my response, and as soon as she’s gone, the guilt hits me. I know none of this is Alana’s fault, just like deep down I know none of it is Sage’s either. But I have no idea what’s going to happen next, what her plans for this place are and what that means for me.

The Pipe Dream has been my safe space for so long that I’m not sure what I’ll do if it’s taken away from me.

Fifteen minutes later, Alana comes back in, carrying a cardboard tray with three cold brew coffees, along with a paper bag that is already half see-through thanks to the donuts I know are inside. “Here,” she says, shoving a cup at me.

She doesn’t offer me any donuts, and that’s her way of telling me she’s still pissed at me. Alana is a grudge holder, but the second you apologize for whatever it is you’ve done, she forgives you. Which is why I know I really need to apologize to her for being a dick.

“Alana,” I say, taking the cup from her hand. She looks up at me but doesn’t say anything. Blowing out a breath, I continue, “I’m sorry.” She raises a brow at me, and I roll my eyes. “Fine, I’m sorry for being such a dick, okay? I know none of this is your fault.”

“And,” she prompts, her eyes flicking to the ceiling.

I shove a hand through my hair, letting out a hard sigh. “I know it’s not Sage’s either,” I add.

Alana gives me a hard look as though she’s trying to decide if I mean it before she eventually thrusts the bag at me. “You still need to apologize to her,” she says, letting me take two donuts. “Because you were kinda a dick to her too.”

I shove a donut in my mouth as I hook an arm around her neck and pull her close. “Fine, I will,” I tell her.

Alana smiles up at me, instantly forgiving me. She pats her hand on my stomach as she says, “Good. And get to know her, Nate. She’s really great. I know you’ll like her.”

“We’ll see,” I say, knowing that’s not going to happen.

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