Page 3 of Always Mine

It’s only gotten worse since…

Nope, not going there.

Shaking my head, I push those thoughts away. Luckily, I’ll have plenty of work keeping me busy and drowning out my wandering mind. Grabbing the large metal scoop, I fill two five-gallon buckets with ice, then dump them into the wells. I snag a few packs of Bud and Bud Light from the cooler before heading back to the bar.

“I see you got roped into working again,” Hunter, my friend, says, squeezing onto the last available barstool. I look him over, taking in his dusted black shirt and dirt-smattered skin. I’d say he came straight from work by the look of him.

“You already know.” I snort. “Cooper not with you?” I stand up on my tippy-toes, looking past Hunter for my… Well, I don’t knowwhatCooper is to me, exactly. He’s not quite my boyfriend, but calling him ‘just a friend’ seems insulting after all he’s done for me.

“Nah, he had some things he needed to do in Liberty. Get more supplies and whatnot. Don’t tell Howie I told you that, though.”

Howie owns the local hardware store, and while most of us go to him for just about everything, there is the odd occasion when we have to venture to other places because his supplies are limited.

I smirk, shaking my head and grabbing a mug from the cooler. “Youdon’t let him hearyousay that.” I nod toward the left. “He’s right over there.”

Hunter's face flushes and his head swivels to look for Howie. Honestly, it’s so loud in here that I doubt Howie can even hear his wife, who’s sitting to his right.

“I think you’re safe,” I tell Hunter, pouring him a Bud from the tap—I’ve known this guy my entire life so I know his drink of choice.

“Thankfully,” he mutters, taking a long sip after I pass the glass to him. “Is Miles here? I didn’t see his bike out front, but I thought he had a shift tonight.”

Miles is Hunter’s little brother and the new busboy Ember just hired. He’s young, barely sixteen, but needed a job and Ember needed the help. “He’ll be here soon. He called and said he was running late.”

Hunter cocks a brow before pulling out his phone. “That’s odd. Did he say why?”

I shrug, about to tell him that I don’t know when I’m interrupted by Billy. “Can I get ‘nother beer?”

I roll my eyes, already knowing I’ll be driving his drunk-ass home later. The man is close to sixty and still can’t hold his drink. It barely takes four before he’s blitzed.

“One more and some food. Burger and fries?” I question, not really asking but wanting him to think I am. He’s not a mean drunk, but definitely a stubborn one.

He eyes me, and I expect him to say no, but then he huffs out his agreement.Thank God for small wins.I grab his beer and ring in his food before going back to Hunter. “Sorry about that.” He waves me off, his signature smile plastered on his face. I sigh in gratitude as I grab another menu. “You want to order some food too? Or start a tab?”

“Nah, I’m good. I won’t be here long, just stopping in on my way home. Didn’t want to miss the kickoff.” His words take me off guard and my smile drops before I can glue it back in place.Shit.Will there ever come a time when simple word associations won’t mess up my head? It’s been three years, I should be over this by now. Overhim.

“Right, the game. I forgot.” I try to cover up my shaky voice, but of course he notices the change. How could he not? He’s known me our whole lives. But the good thing about Hunter is that he’s not the type to pry. He knows how sore this subject—AKA Paxton—is for me.

Trying and failing to be nonchalant, he pulls out a few dollars, sliding them to me. “Thanks for this.” He lifts his glass with a smile, trying to lighten the mood, though it’s completely wrecked.

I nod as I snag the money. “Let me know if you need anything else.” My tone is a little stiff, but he ignores it, eyes focusing on the screen behind my head. The screen that’s currently telling us the players’ stats and what their thoughts are on the upcoming season.Ugh!I don’t want to hear that shit either, but luckilyI’m saved when the cook yells out for food runners from the kitchen.

Passing Ember the money for Hunter’s beer, I head to the back, then spend the next while running food, cleaning tables, and distracting myself with whatever Ember needs. I’m thankful for the work to keep my eyes, ears, and mind away from the TV screen—even though the California football colors decorating the room are a teasing reminder of why it’s so busy in here.

“Wyatt, will you run these to table twelve? They were missing the fries with their burgers,” Ember calls, arms filled with cases of beer.

“You want me to take those instead?” I question, taking a step toward her.

“Nah, I’ve got it balanced. Just run those out, will ya?” Then she staggers back to the bar, somehow not dropping a single thing. I don’t know how she does it.

I tighten my lips to suppress a chuckle, and grab the two side plates, all while reminding myself that the shift is almost over. Only a few more hours until the bar closes and I’ll be home free. Plus, this isn’t terrible. It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be…

Well, it wasn’t until I rounded the corner and came to a dead stop

Just when I thought I was in the clear.

I plaster on a smile that I’m sure looks slightly manic, and make my way over to where Paxton’s family is sitting. My second family. The family I lost when I lost him. The worst part? It was totally self-inflicted. I regret a lot because of how things ended with Pax and I, but I really hate the divide I’ve caused in order to play the avoidance game.

“I think you’re missing some fries?” I surprise myself when my tone doesn’t crack. That’s a plus, I guess.

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