“Wes…” Rose warns.
I ignore her and grab my beer.
As if by divine intervention, the person sitting next to Jett leaves to go dance, so I swoop in and snag the stool.
He doesn’t look my way, staring out at nothing, but I’m close enough now to recognize him. He’s definitely Jett. His black hair isn’t buzzed anymore, but he’s got a fade on the back and sides. His face is leaner, more angled, too.
My stomach tingles weirdly. God, why am I so nervous? I make a mental note to text Den and tell him who I ran into, of all places.
“Hey, Jett Cordier? Wes Ellison.” I hold out my hand for him to shake. “I don’t know if you remember me, but we went to high school together. Probably not. I was a freshman when you were a senior. I run cross-country, or I did for the Ducks. Well, I still run, but I don’t race anymore. I’m a physical therapist now. Work over at the university. But we practically grew up together.Man, my best bud and I watched all your races. You’re amazing, and…”
And he’s not taking my hand while I vomit my word salad like a love-struck fool.
“Ah, sorry,” I say, and rest my hand on the wooden counter of the bar, squirming awkwardly.
Jett finally glances my way and looks at me with no expression. “I don’t remember you.”
I laugh nervously and run my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, well, I was just a kid when you were burning it up on the track.”
“Uh-huh…”
“So, you back at Cannon Beach?”
“Nope.”
“Ah. You move here into town?”
“Look, nice to meet you, Wilson, but I gotta go.”
“It’s… Wes…”
And there he goes.
What did I say?
He didn’t even finish his beer. I don’t know whether to be embarrassed or annoyed. Well, my rambling didn’t fucking help.God, you’re an idiot, Wes. I should’ve listened to my friends, but when do I ever?
Chapter 2
Jett
Iburstthroughtheexit, cool evening air hitting my face. Sucking in a clipped breath, I stumble down the sidewalk, nearly bumping into a group of college kids. I’m struggling to breathe, and my heart feels like it’s clawing out of my chest.
“Watch it, dude!” A guy snaps, and his girl giggles. I ignore them, rushing the hell out of here.
There are people everywhere, loud happy voices, bodies moving from one bar to another, and the telltale tunnel vision is starting to make me nauseous.
After several weekends cooped up, I finally psyched myself up to leave my apartment. I knew it wasn’t a good idea, though, and I was right. No way was I ready to be out drinking and dancing.
I realized my mistake the second I entered that bar. A quick look at the demographic told me everything I needed to know. It was a college-kid haven, also known as hell on earth for anyone else unless you’re thoroughly intoxicated.
If it weren’t for Janelle, my older sister’s bossy voice in my head, I would’ve turned on my heel and left right away, or not gone at all.
‘Just go for a drink, Jett. You know it’s time. New town, new you.’
I don’t even drink. I’m not supposed to with the cocktail of medication I’m on. It’s allanti-thisandanti-that.
Janelle is relentless in her efforts to get me back out there. She never rests. Not when it came to applying for the assistant coach job, which was pretty much her ultimatum. Especially not when it comes to getting a social life for the first time. She means well and only wants what’s best for me.
