Page 19 of Forgotten Pieces

“Ryder, all jokes aside, did somethin’ happen between you back then? Laney hinted at something after the weddin’ but didn’t outright say it.”

I exhale but don’t answer.

“Okay, I get it, man. And I’m not going to criticize you for fucking a high school girl back then.”

I grit my teeth, wanting this conversation to end. “I never slept with her.”

Mac looks at me in surprise. “Then what happened?”

“I thought you were gonna drop it.”

Mac glances to the other end of the bar then looks back at me. “I will. I am just curious... nevermind, man. But ugh—”

I turn toward him and take a long sip of beer. “We were friends. Really good friends. We were both dealing with shit. We talked a lot. It made things easier for both of us.”

Mac nods his head. I know he must understand some of what I said. He was friends with Tacoma back then, still is. And he knew about all the shit happening with my family. “So I probably should have told you this but ugh,” he pauses as he grabs the back of his neck, “I didn’t think we would have been here this long or that she was workin’ but—”

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence because that sultry voice I hate to love cuts him off. “What are you doing in my bar, Ryder Thompson?”

I look over at her and the thing that was happening in my chest earlier comes back. Hell, just the sight of her is enough to give me a semi.

I’m partially saved by Trace. “Tacoma, this is my bar. Don’t be tellin’ every person that walks in here that it’s yours.”

She rolls her eyes at him and I can’t help but smirk. This is one of the sides of Tacoma I love.

“Oh please, Trace. You know that half the people sittin’ in this bar wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me making them drinks. You should be paying me more because you’ve been bringing in twice the money since I moved back here.”

Mac starts cracking up next to me while Trace just mumbles something about her being a brat as he walks away.

“The only reason more people are coming into this bar, Tacoma, is because they like looking at your tits,” Mac jokes.

Tacoma glances down at her very low cut top and my eyes can’t help but follow.

“Donald Maclan, you better know that I will hustle any way I can to make me some tips. And you better not be looking or else I’ll tell Laney you are.”

“I don’t care if you do.”

She places her elbow on the bar and leans over. “What if I tell her right now? She doesn’t know you’re here and I’ll be more than happy to keep it that way as long as you keep your eyes to yourself.”

Mac grins at her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am, either,” she humphs. “Now can I get you boys a beer? Or maybe a whiskey for you, Ryder?”

I stare at her, unable to answer. She looks at me with those emerald green doe eyes and I can’t help but think back to our past.

“I, ugh, think I’m going to head out,” I say. I stand and throw money on the bar and head out the door before either Tacoma or Mac can stop me.

Chapter Eight

Eight Years Ago

Ryder

I find a dark parking spot. We are at least a hundred yards from the party. But parking way out here makes it a hell of a lot easier to leave.

I still can’t believe I am at a high school party. But since I am staying with my cousin Donnie and he’s grounded from using the truck, I got suckered into this. I don’t know why my aunt said it was fine for him to go to a party even though he’s grounded but she assured me I’d have a good time. My aunt must be losing her mind.

“Dude, why did you park all the way out here?” Donnie says to me as I cut the engine.

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