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The noise in the bar fades to background noise. She’s gorgeous, and somehow vaguely familiar, which is impossible because I’d remember a woman like her. Something about her eyes.
She’s sitting next to a hulking wall of muscle, though. He’s huge, good-looking, and blatantly suspicious of every man in the room, based on the way he keeps cutting his gaze over the crowd. Assertive, strong, in control. Handsome.
Which is a weird thought to have. Is it weird to think another man is handsome? Surely not. Elliot’s comments earlier must be messing with my head.
Mrs. Weaver waves at me, but a voice comes over the bar speakers, cutting off my reaction.
“Welcome to Beachers, the hottest karaoke competition on the Outer Banks! Are you ready to get this party started?”
Cheers go up all over the room. Elliot elbows me, nearly knocking me off my feet.
“Mrs. Weaver says you’re a singer,” he says. “Ready to go kick some ass?
5
West
One hour earlier…
“I shouldn’t be here.”
“Then why’d you come all this way?” Finn’s attention is divided, playing mixologist at the makeshift bar they’d set up for us downstairs, the bachelor party already in full swing. Finn would make sure his childhood friend got the blowout he deserved. Though just how much of a blowout anybody could expect from this tiny spit of land, I didn’t know.
Whatever. Not my party. I’m just here for beer. And for Finn, of course.
“I came because you asked me to,” I reply, setting down my drink to help him switch a keg. When we got it flowing again, Finn looked around and nodded.
“Yeah, about that,” he said. “I need you to keep an eye on Callahan tonight.”
My gut tightened. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Finn shrugged. “But I’ll be on best man duty all night. I know the beach isn’t your idea of a wild party, but somebody’s got to make sure these fools get home safe.”
“We’re all walking everywhere,” I point out. Not that I don’t want to keep an eye on Callahan. That’s exactly the problem. I’ve had a hard time keeping my eyes off Callahan, and not in a good way.
She was pretty as a teenager, but being Finn’s twin sister meant she also wore an invisible Hell No, Hands Off sign at all times. In the back of my mind, that sign is still there but the last few days, it’s a helluva lot harder to see. Little Callie Hale filled out since the last time I saw her, and all of it went to the good parts.
“Still,” said Finn. “I’d consider it a favor.”
“Of course,” I say. “No problem.”
“Thanks, man,” Finn says. He slaps my shoulder and grins. “Don’t let it put a damper on your night or anything. Twenty bucks says she ditches after the first bar.”
“She doesn’t strike me as the going-out type,” I say.
“It’s worse than you know.” Finn shakes his head.
“What?” I ask, concerned. He’s not just ragging on his sister. Something’s going on.
“It’s worse than ‘stuck,’” he says, glancing around to make sure we’re not overheard. “She’s barely left the house in more than a year. I think she might need help. Like, real help.”
“You mean therapy or something?”
Finn nods. He gets called back to barkeeping duty, leaving me with my thoughts.
I’ll keep an eye on his sister, but that’s it. I can be a friend to my best friend and look out for the most important person in his world. Right? Of course I can. He’s my best friend. Anything in my power is his for the asking.
The woman in question walks into the room, and every cell in my body sits up and takes notice.
