Page 22 of Finding Our Reality

“Will needs to mind his own business. He’s already on my shit list.”

“Ella, nearly every single person in the world is on your shit list. Now go put on some clothes before I drag you to the bar in your sleep shirt.”

***

Neither Cullen nor Holt say anything when I order a Long Island Iced Tea. They know better.

That’s how I find myself sitting at the bar, playing the sniff test with it again.

I spin on my barstool, checking the crowd. We sat down and ordered the second we came in, so I didn’t even check the place out yet. There’s a decent crowd tonight. I’m really glad Will’s business is doing well. He’s a good guy. More importantly, he treats Raylee and the kids like gold.

I pause for a second when I see familiar-looking auburn hair. Her back is to me, but I can clearly tell it’s Kristie. She’s standing in front of a table toward the back, talking to two guys. One guy looks to be in his early twenties. I can’t see who the other guy is because she’s leaning forward in front of him, blocking my view. Her dress is much, much shorter than she ever used to wear when we were kids. She’s shifting her legs back and forth, trying to draw attention to her pale, bare skin. There’s a winter chill in the air. Plus, Will likes to keep the bar cool. I’m surprised she’s not cold.

I guess she’s prowling for a one-night stand.

An overwhelming sadness tugs at my heart. I can’t believe Ry said he saw her high. Maybe I should go talk to her. Distract her. I can’t save her from every poor choice she’s obviously making, but I can at least save her from tonight’s poor choice.

I tap Holt on the ribcage. “I’ll be right back. I see Kristie. I’m gonna go say hi.”

Cullen leans across the bar, whisper-shouting as I walk away. “I don’t know if I would do that, Ella.”

I shoo him away. “I’ll be fine.”

Wiping the condensation from my glass, I adjust my grip on it as I come up behind Kristie. I call out to her before I get too close as I don’t want to scare her. “Kristie?”

She spins around, wobbling on her feet. It looks like she’s already had one drink too many. Good thing Will and Cullen always force her to take a ride share or cab home.

“Ella!” Rushing forward, she throws her arms around me, assaulting me with her fake cleavage and knocking the glass from my hand. It flies underneath the table, shattering into several pieces.

And then I seehim.

He springs up from the table, quick as lightning, trying to avoid any glass shards that are scattering around his boots.

“Oh no! Let me get something to clean this up. I’m so sorry, Ella. I’m just so excited to see you.” Kristie scurries off to the bar.

I’m left standing there like a moron. Staring into his infuriatingly beautiful pale green eyes.

Just me and him.

Well, and this other guy, whoever he is.

Ry’s eyes don’t leave mine. “Hank, we can finish talking later.”

Hank tosses a look to me and back to Ry. Silently nodding, he walks away.

We stand there, not moving.

So, Kristie was hitting on Ry. Rubbing her legs together like her crotch was made of 16-grit sandpaper, and flopping her make-believe boobs all around in his face—because trust me, I’ve seen her in a bikini top and I know what God gave her. Andmaybe this isn’t the first time. In fact, I’d bet my bottom dollar this isn’t the first time. Apparently, both Ry and Kristie are sluts, so it stands to reason they would have hooked up before.

“Ella, are you okay?” Cullen bends, looking underneath the table. “Let me go get something to clean this up.”

“No, I’ll get it,” I offer. “I know where everything is in the back. You’ve got it by yourself tonight, keep an eye on the bar. I’ll get this.”

Ry steps around, slapping Cullen on the shoulder. “I’ll help her. It’s fine.”

Cullen doesn’t hide his skepticism in leaving us alone, in the same vicinity as one another. But, alas, someone calls his name from the bar. Reluctantly, he nods and heads back up front.

Grunting, I push past Ry and head into the back room, swinging the door behind me. “You’ll help me? I’m quite capable of cleaning up broken glass by myself, you know? I’m not helpless. I’ve done just fine by myself all these years. Even cleaned up a broken plate a time or two. Imagine that.”

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