Page 16 of Where the Stars Heal

“What do you mean smelled sickly last night, Halle?” Hunter demands, his eyes widening at me.

Oops. I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud. Great, now Hunter’s going to be on my back about walking the street so late at night. He’ll probably try and put a curfew on me. Do that big overprotective brother shit he should have done when I was a teenager. My knee starts bouncing, and I shift in my seat, trying to come up with a reason that won’t end with me getting a full-blown lecture.

“So… don’t get mad, but…”

Connor snorts, and I narrow my eyes at him as his shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“Halle, girl. Starting a sentence like that with yourbrother is just going to set his uptight ass into a bigger spiral.”

I glance back at Hunter, smiling innocently at him when I hear someone approach us. Looking over Hunter’s shoulder, my eyes connect with Asher. My smile drops, and he raises an eyebrow at me as if to sayPlease continue. I’d love to hear your reasoning. Heat rushes to my cheeks as I take him in. Asher stands there in gray sweats hanging low on his hips, his black briefs peeking out. With no shirt, his tanned skin is on full display.

Holy shit. Asher has no shirt on and, uhm… Snapping fingers move into my line of sight, and I blink repeatedly.

“Halle, eyes over here,” Hunter snaps at me.

The sound of Connor chuckling hits my ears, and I glance over at him as he moves his thumb to the corner of his mouth, swiping. “Got a little drool there, Halle.”

Oh my god. Humiliation hits me, and I look down at my hands, wishing I could disappear. I just got caught by my brother and his friend ogling their best friend whilst my brain short-circuited. Could they blame me, though? Because those abs look damn hot. Muscle stacked on muscle. He’s lean, as if running is his favorite sport, and he has those deep V lines guys seem to have, the ones I could run my tongue along and down…

“Don’t stress, Hunt.” Asher’s raspy voice pulls me out of the spiral I was just in, and my stomach twists. Heat rushes my cheeks once again as I flick my eyes toward him, hoping he can’t pick up on what I was just thinking.

“I got home last night, and Halle was up. She must have taken pity on my drunk ass because I was wasted, so she helped me to the spare room.”

Wait, what? That’s not what happened. My eyes widen atAsher, but he ignores me and grabs a bottle of water, gulping it down, and then winks at me.

Everything in me starts to go into overdrive, and confusion mingles with awe and appreciation. What the hell is happening right now? Is Asher covering for me? He’s supposed to be an asshole. Not this hot guy who walks out shirtless, covers for me, and then winks.

Picking up my coffee, I decide this is enough socializing for one morning. My temples are starting to ache, my breathing is coming in quicker, and I know if I stay here any longer, I’ll have an anxiety attack.

“I’m gonna go. Hunter, I’ll see ya later, yeah?” I quietly say to him.

Ignoring Asher and how he hasn’t moved his eyes away from me, I step by Connor, and the look he gives me tells me he’ll be asking questions later.

“Halle,” Hunter calls out to me, “we’ll head over to the bar at five. Be ready and out the front.”

Without turning back, I lift my hand and wave to him.

Five. That works. That gives me enough time to calm down and mentally prepare myself for tonight. Maybe I’ll even get a chance to talk to Hunter about everything since I didn’t get to this morning.

Just as I’m about to close my door, I hear Connor yell, “Dude, please don’t tell us we owe Madi money. What the hell happened to you last night, and where’s Piper?”

Images of Asher and another girl flash through my mind, and my chest tightens. Why would he owe Madi money, and why does someone named Piper make me feel so irritated?

7

I’M SORRY

HALLE

I pull at the tight black Whiskey Cove shirt, trying to feel comfortable in it, but have no luck. It’s a size too small around my chest and rides up a little, exposing a sliver of pale skin above my denim shorts. I didn’t have the heart to tell Hunter, not wanting him to feel like he has to go out of his way for me more than he already has and find me another shirt.

Standing in the bar down the far end with the pool tables in front of me, I start cutting the fresh lemons and limes Hunter instructed me to do earlier. He told me we prep the bar every night an hour before we open, so that’s what I’ve been doing, helping him prep. If I turn to look down the other side of the bar, I would see the booths that line that far wall, dark wooden tables with worn leather seating. This place is really cool, and I have to give it to Hunter because what he’s done here is incredible.

Popping down, I open the fridge and start stacking the containers of lemon and lime, ready for the night ahead. The cool air from the fridge is welcoming with how stuffy the summer air is tonight, and my nerves about being hereare likely not helping either. I’ve never worked in a bar or anything like it before. I have no idea what to expect or what to do, and I worry that I’m going to just be in the way.You can never do anything right, Halle. Words shouted at me in the past whisper in the back of my mind. Always there, reminding me of how useless I am.

When Hunter showed me around and pointed out where to find everything earlier, I told him that I had no clue what I was doing. The only job I’ve ever had was at the craft store. He stared at me for a beat and then asked, “Why the craft store?” It was in that moment that we both realized we’d missed too much. Sadness crept its way through me. Hunter had no idea how much art had become my escape, a lifeline I clung to when everything else was just too much, too hard. The gap between us felt strained, and I wanted to talk to him about Mom, ask him why he left and never came back for me, but my throat closed up, and I froze. I couldn’t get the words out. Maybe we could just get by without talking about anything.It’s not like my feelings matter.

I start cutting the strawberries when I hear the clink of glasses being moved behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Asher stacking trays of them together next to the ice. A wave of self-consciousness washes over me, and I tug at my shirt again, lowering my head and hoping he won’t approach me.

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