“The who?”
I swallowed down something bitter and vicious in favor of clarifying my question. “The girl you walked down the stairs with when I came in?”
He shrugged but avoided my eyes. “She’s nobody.”
Except my gut instinct knew that wasn’t true. I was more of a nobody to Ryder West than the pretty girl ushered out of his bedroom half undressed. More’s the pity, I was the fool believing whatever lies he told me.
18
Evan
Nine months earlier and revelations from friends…
It was my one night off on this rotation where I didn’t have to go in the next day. Working back-to-back shifts sucked, and I’d put in enough time that it shouldn’t happen, but it did. I was hanging out at Easton’s, wondering if I’d see the adorable redhead that had me all twisted since I first saw her at the football game months ago.
I couldn’t help but wonder if our schedules had somehow magically aligned because she seemed to work shifts when I came in, but that was sporadic lately so it didn’t make sense how she would know unless someone had told her. Nobody would give out my schedule, so I was chalking it up to chance and the fact that she must work a lot of hours for her to be there so often. A curious part of me wanted to get to know her better, but the timing was never right, and I doubted she’d be into a guy like me. She was young, gorgeous, and probably liked to bar hop like the rest of the girls her age.
“Yo, Rooney!” Andy slid a beer down the bar, and I caught it in my hand. The bottle had a label I didn’t recognize and I twisted it around, looking at the pretty and unexpected design.
“New brew?” I asked, taking a sip of the hoppy-flavored beer. It was delicious with a hint of orange and something else I couldn’t name. It reminded me of summer and fishing on the lake minus the noxious smell of bait and the sting of horseflies.
“Brand spanking new. Tell me what you
think?” He leaned on the bar, dinking his slowly and swishing the liquid around his mouth like a good brew master.
I swallowed mine down, taking another sip before offering my feedback. “I think I need another to know any specifics.” I polished off the drink, sliding the glass bottle down the bar. A slim pale hand grabbed it, then put it in the bucket at the end of the bar before mechanically going back to what she was cleaning up.
“So?” Andy pressed, but I had eyes for the redhead who looked more like someone had kicked her dog than a happy girl working on a Tuesday night. Typically, I got at least a shy hello or a head bob, but this time nothing as Remi finished her task on autopilot.
“What’s up with Remington?” I nodded in her direction, taking in the slump of her shoulders. Even her hair looked depressed, hanging cock-eyed to the side in a messy bun.
“Some fuck-face broke up with her, but she hasn’t told David or me about it.” Andy growled. I was glad to see he had a reaction.
“So that begs the question of how you found out.” I pondered Andy’s network of spies, locals and college kids who’d been raised on Easton’s brew and owed him more loyalty than a hardcore KGB agent.
My buddy heaved a heavy sigh. “Honestly, I didn’t know she was dating anyone because I would have beaten their ass before it got to this.” He slapped his hand down on the bar, and Remington didn’t even flinch at the other end, so caught up in her own little world of refilling salt shakers.
“Huh.” I grimaced, looking Andy up and down. He shook his head, laughing. I didn’t want to imagine anything more because then I’d be feeling protective and I couldn’t fully wrap my mind around it just yet.
“No way, bro. She’s like a little sister to us. Since Sierra, well, you know I have a soft spot for girls in trouble.” He said nothing else on the subject, and I didn’t feel like pressing the issue. Oddly enough, he mentioned his own ghost-like ex-girlfriend.
Remington could have a dark past or a sinister situation I knew nothing about. I didn’t care. I didn’t know what I’d do about it, but I didn’t like seeing her this distant and upset.
Thinking about Andy’s situation brought up the many ways a man could be a masochist. Andy hadn’t dated, to the best of my knowledge, in a decade with any single girl since Sierra skipped town without a second glance back. Pretty shitty thing to do in my opinion and I wasn’t even judging, I just didn’t think that leaving the man who pledged to be your everything spoke well for Sierra not being in the crazy-as-fuck camp. Andy pined something fierce for that girl, and I thought he’d ultimately given up by now. Damn depressing to be haunted by a woman like that, and I prayed he wasn’t harboring some misguided candle for Remington instead.
“Yeah, I do,” I said, understanding his plight better than I realized. Another drink headed my way and I uncapped it, then took a swig. The beer was excellent, no doubt, but the realization that Remington had other men possibly vying for her attention did something to me. Inexplicably I couldn’t describe it. I wasn’t sure I liked it, but she was totally off limits. I tried to argue with myself that I was older, should have been wiser, but none of that seemed to matter.
Andy huddled closer to my spot at the end of the bar. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Rooney.”
I edged closer. “I sure hope so, my man.”
“Remi is important to us. Not in a weird creepy brotherly kind of way, just that we look out for our own, and as long as she lives under the roof of our bar, then we expect her to be treated well and respected.”
“Gotcha.” I one hundred percent agreed with Andy.
“And this douchebag football player dropped her like a hot potato. She won’t tell us about it, but some girls from the sorority on campus came in talking about the same dickface she was mooning over just last week.”
“Like what were they saying?” I asked, curious now. It felt like we became a sewing circle of elderly ladies the way we watched Remi do her job, whispering back and forth about her dating life.