Page 66 of The Scars We Heal

Nico shrugged. “Quit. I told Rudy I’d pick up some shifts and if it meant I had to work some doubles to help Liv out, I don’t mind a little bit of overtime.”

“Huh. Well, hopefully y’all can find some new people to help out.” I looked over at Caitlin. “Maybe Cait can pick up some shifts?”

Her eyes widened, but she nodded. “I’d be happy to help out when Whitley’s in school, and she can always go over to my mom’s house after if I need to stay later.”

Relief flashed across Nico’s face. “Thanks, I’ll let Rudy know, and he can be in contact with you. Anyways, what can I get for you two? Your usual?” he asked me, to which I nodded. Then he looked at Cait, raising his brows.

“I’ll just do a gin and tonic, but light on the gin, please,” she replied.

“You got it.” Nico grabbed our drinks and slid them across the counter.

“Close the tab for me, please.” I handed him a twenty dollar bill. “Keep the rest, bud.”

He offered me a grateful nod then moved down to the other end of the bar to check on the other patrons.

“Is that what you normally get to drink?” I pointed at her gin and tonic.

She started to tilt her head as though she was going to disagree then stopped. “I guess, if I’m not drinking wine, then yes. I’m not a big whiskey or tequila or beer girl anymore.”

“Grew out of hard liquor and beer when you graduated?”

Her eyes flicked up in a half eyeroll. “I guess so. Or maybe I just started drinking wine because I thought that’s what sophisticated people drank.”

“Did Adam drink wine?”

She barked out a laugh. “No. He drank beer with his shitty friends.”

“Well, there you have it. Your hypothesis about wine might just be correct.”

With a gentle shake of her head, she said, “You drink beer, and you’re nothing like Adam.”

“Yes,” I agreed then added with a grin, “But I also drink whiskey.”

That brought a small smile to her face. “Cheers to that, then.”

Our glasses clinked together, and we both sipped on our drinks, getting lost in small talk and periodically glancing over at the TV where John Wayne played a U.S. Marshal.

Across the lawn, a single light was still illuminated in the guest house. The light in Cait’s room.

It was a gorgeous night, with little to no cloud cover and skies as clear as glass.

I checked the time on the oven, and it was only about eleven o’clock. Maybe she’d be up for crossing off another bucket list item together since the pottery class went so well.

My chin dipped as I took in my current clothing situation. I hummed to myself as I rushed back into the bedroom to throw on a sweatshirt and a pair of loose sweatpants. I wasn’t sure I’d need the sweatshirt, but if all went to plan, we’d be outside and Caitlin might need it.

Five minutes later, I stood in front of her window, tapping on it like we were in high school sneaking around after curfew. I knew I could have just gone to the front door, but I didn’t want to risk waking up Whitley since I knew getting her to fall asleep was always a challenge. Besides, this way made it feel even more spontaneous and exciting.

After I tapped on her window a few more times, she finally stirred, getting out of bed to investigate. When she saw my face outside, she jumped, hand clutching her chest. Then her brows pinched together and she crossed her arms, sliding open the window and hissing, “What the hell? You scared the shit out of me! What happened to knocking on the front door?”

Okay, maybe tapping on her window was a little too spontaneous.

“Wanna go stargazing?” I ignored her questions.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.” I pointed toward the sky. “Clear skies out here. You can see literally all of the stars right now.”

“It’s like eleven o’clock, and Whit is sleeping.”