Page 1 of I Found You
1
Wyatt
Harpoon’s Tavern was always busy, but the Fourth of July was pure chaos. Our seaside town in Massachusetts had one of the best fireworks shows around, and it brought tourists in from hours away just to watch them. Then, of course, while they were in town, people would flock to one of the two bars in town.
I’d been coming to Harpoon’s for the Fourth of July after-hours celebrations for years. It had always doubled as my birthday celebration as soon as the clock struck midnight. Turning thirty-three years old this year didn’t hold much excitement for me, but it had been our tradition for years. We had our own little crew, friends would come and go throughout the years, but my core crew, we were solid.
The night was hot and humid, just like it had been for a few days now. The fireworks earlier this evening were still impressive, even if they were only visible through a cloud of haze. It would have been a great time if it hadn’t been for Chelsea hanging all over me. We had hooked up a few times in the past, but it wasn’t serious. I had never datedanyone seriously, and any of the girls I went home with knew that. They were looking for something fun and easy, just like me. Besides, last I heard, Chelsea was with someone else. I was usually game for a good time, but being unattached was definitely a prerequisite.
Besides, I had my eyes on a thick, dark-haired beauty all night. Her dark brown hair was tied back in a red hair tie. The little blue-and-white dress she was wearing would have been considered conservative compared to everyone else, but she was showing enough of her legs to capture my interest. She looked familiar, but this was the kind of town where everyone knew everyone. I was sure I had run into her at some point, but the more I drank, the less likely I was to make any connections. She was with Andrea Petit’s group though, another hookup from the past. Between being cockblocked by Chelsea hanging on me and not wanting to move into Andrea’s orbit, I didn’t get a chance to talk to her. Next time I looked up, she was gone.
Harpoon’s was open for another hour, but I’d had more than my fair share to drink already. It was crowded and annoyingly loud, and to be honest, I was shitfaced and tired. The high-top table we had congregated around was sticky with too many spilled drinks. Chelsea had been pissing me off. And Wes, my best friend, had taken off thirty minutes ago, saying he had things to do tomorrow and didn’t want to feel like shit. He’d offered to stay and drive me home when I was done for the night. He was a stand-up guy like that, even if most everyone else was kind of scared of the grumpy bastard. I lived close enough to walk, so I sent him on his way. Now, I just needed to stay upright and walk my ass home without crawling on the ground.
Six shots of tequila and a handful of beers.
I hadn’t drunk this much for a while now. I certainly couldn’t hang like I used to. This double-vision shit was tough.
“Hey, guys, I think I’m going to head out now,” I said.
“No! Come on, Wy. It’s your birthday now. We got to celebrate,” slurred Reid, the youngest of my siblings. He was sitting with his arm slung around his high school sweetheart, Kayleigh.
“Yeah, stay. Do another shot with us. It’s on me,” Seb said. “Although, I bet you could shoot it off Chelsea if you wanted,” he joked. Sebastian Devereux had been like another brother for years. He and my brother Luke became friends in grade school and were inseparable growing up.
“Nah. You guys have fun. Close it down here. I’m heading out.”
I tried to get out of there before anyone else noticed, but I never had been a lucky kind of guy.
The exit was in sight when she stumbled away from a group of girls and made a beeline for me.
“Hey, you’re not leaving me here alone, are you?” cooed Chelsea. Her voice was nagging and whiny. We hadn’t really stayed in contact after our hookups ended. I wasn’t even sure why she latched onto me tonight.
“You’re not alone, Chelsea. You literally just stepped away from your friend group.” I wasn’t trying to be a dick, but I didn’t really have it in me to placate her either.
“But what if one of the guys here tries to take me home?” She pouted dramatically and tried to bat her lashes at the same time. It was a very strange effect. “Wouldn’t you feel bad if something happens to me?”
“Fuck, Chelsea, half the people here you’ve known sinceyou were six. I’m too tired for this shit. Go back to your girlfriends. They’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”
“Wow, Wyatt. You’re such a jerk.”
I watched her walk back to her friends, hips swaying either from the alcohol or for my benefit, before I doubled back to my table to ask my crew if they could keep an eye on her. They all agreed to look out for her, seeing as she was trashed. I also checked in with the bartender, Ronnie, as a backup plan, seeing as my crew was also trashed.
“I don’t think another one is a good idea, Wilder,” Ronnie said, slinging beers from the draft machine as she tried to keep up with the crowd.
“No. I’m heading out,” I started, but I was cut off by Ronnie’s sharp brow raise as she glared at me. I raised my hands in front of me. “Walking. But could you do me a favor?”
Ronnie set the beers down in front of a couple of dudes and wiped her hands on a towel, “Good boy. What do you need?”
“Chelsea—can you keep an eye on her? Make sure she gets out of here safe?”
“She worried about someone?” Ronnie was looking past me, sweeping her eyes around the place.
“No. She’s just… Chelsea,” I finished.
“Go home, Wilder. I’m not letting anything happen on my watch. I’ve got her.”
“You’re the best, Ronnie. That’s why you’re my favorite.”
Ronnie was one of the good ones. She’d been bartending here since she was probably too young to be allowed behind a bar. In her mid-forties now, she had her braided hair pulled into some elaborate knot at the top of her head, the same as it had been since the first time I saw her over a decade ago.
