Page 28 of Finding Our Reality

Uncle Ray clicks his tongue. “Leave the girl alone. She’ll tell us when she’s good and ready. Besides, if we think about it real hard, I’m sure we can solve some of the puzzle. We might not guess thewhat, but somehow, I don’t think thewhowill be all that hard.”

I swing my foot back and forth against my barstool. “I’m glad my life provides so much amusement for you.”

Holt steals a cantaloupe ball from my plate. “Hey, we all have our spot in the sun for a while. Just think back a few months ago. You couldn’t turn on any news channel without seeing my face and hearing some dumbass commentator say my life was overbecause I couldn’t play football anymore.” He thumps his chest, smiling. “Now, look at me.”

I snort. “Unemployed and drinking at the bar.”

Holt chuckles. “Hey, I’m just weighing my options.” He turns to Will. “On a side note, may I say how disturbing it is that you even know what a ‘smoky eye’ is?”

Will flips him the bird before turning to help a customer.

Just a couple of minutes later, the front door flings open so loudly, it catches all of our attention. Anxiety and tension quickly drown out the noise of the music and bustling crowd. Ry’s standing in the doorway, scanning the room. Unfortunately, the bastard looks drop dead sexy. I guess he showered. His hair is wet, and small beads of water are rolling down his neck. He hasn’t shaved the past couple of days, and the brown stubble on his face and jawline make him look absolutely dangerous.

He’s wearing a green T-shirt with a gray hoodie jacket and jeans. The green really draws attention to his eyes.

And the muscles around his collar bone.

And his firm chest.

Damn that green T-shirt.

Ry takes a breath when he sees me. Rolling his shoulders, he charges across the barroom like an elephant thundering across the savanna. Holt immediately jumps from his barstool and presses the palm of his hand against Ry’s chest. “Whoa, there. She’s upset. She hasn’t told us what happened, but I’m pretty damn positive you have something to do with it. It might be best if you turn around. None of us bought a ticket to the shit show tonight.”

Ry narrows his eyes and stares down at Holt’s hand. Ry definitely doesn’t like someone’s hand being on him. In confrontation. In challenge. A fight between the two of them would probably be the brawl of the century.

I should step in. I should intervene. Oh well, I always do what I shouldn’t do. This should be no exception. I turn my head back to my drink, listening to them talk about me like I’m not even here.

Uncle Ray clears his throat and calmly takes a drink of his beer. “Holt, take your hand off him, son.”

Respecting his father’s wishes, Holt does as he’s told. He doesn’t sit back down, though. He stands sentry in front of me, blocking Ry from part of my view.

Uncle Ray leans across the bar, grabbing Cullen’s attention since Will is busy with other customers. “C, get Crutch a beer, will you?”

Cullen slides a cold beer bottle into Ry’s hand and Uncle Ray nods, urging him to take a drink. I’m glad no one’s getting thirsty in this standoff. Come on, people! Can’t you see I’m falling apart over here!

I just found out the love of my life nearly died.

I mean, I just found out the ex-love of my life nearly died.

“So,” Uncle Ray places his empty bottle on the counter, “you wanna tell us what happened?”

Ry looks at me, trying to gauge my feelings. I put my hand up, shielding my face from his prying eyes. About this time, Will walks up to join the guys. Sighing, Ry glances around at the men of my family. “I didn’t tell her about my service injuries. She caught me in the gym. She saw it.”

Uncle Ray nods. “Oh. I see.”

Holt clears his throat, shifting his weight from leg to leg.

“I just need to talk to her.” Ry’s voice cuts like a knife, slicing through a small layer of my steel armor. “Lulu, please. Can we just talk for a minute?”

I ignore him.

Will tosses his hand in the air. “Hey, a table just opened up in the back. Why don’t you take a load off? Maybe Ella will feel like talking in a little while.”

Ry licks his lips. Chugging the rest of his beer, he slaps the bottle on the shiny wood countertop and walks off toward the back of the bar.

Holt sits back down and Will tosses my empty fruit plate in the trash. No one says anything for a long time. We just sit, listening to the Aerosmith song pumping through the speakers.

“If you hate him so much, why are you so upset?”

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