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“Don’t be a Billy-No-Fun, Seb. Can’t you see, our Skylar is heartbroken? Her medicine is lots and lots of alcohol,” Hannah hiccupped, coming to my defense.

Seb glowered at his employee. “Hannah, you work here, you shouldn’t be getting shitfaced in the place that employs you.”

She held her arms out. “I’m off the clock, Sebby. You can’t tell me what to do. Besides, Brady, Brad-Brad’s been serving me all night.”

“Of course, he is. That dumb ass can never say no to you,” Seb grumbled. “Well, I’m telling you that you both are cut off starting now. Order a damn coffee and sober the fuck up, Hannah.” He stormed off, most likely to tell off his brother.

Hannah stuck out her tongue at his retreating back. “That guy really is a stick in the mud. Come on, let's get the others and go somewhere else.” She took my hand and started leading me back to our table.

“Where are we going to go? This is the only bar in Southport.” I said, stumbling over my feet. I really was having a hard time staying upright.

“Oh yeah.” Hannah considered our options for a moment. She then checked her phone. “I know, let’s go get booze from the grocery store and go back to my place.”

“That sounds like a plan!” I said a little too loudly. “I’m going to pee before we leave,” I announced, though Hannah was already heading to the table, leaving me behind.

I went woozily to the back of the bar to the tiny hallway where the bathrooms were located, found the right door, and went in and did my thing. As I exited, someone came out of the men’s room just as I entered the hallway. His head was down, and he didn’t see me coming around the corner. And I was too drunk to stop myself from colliding into him hard enough to make the man fall back a step.

He reached out to grab me as I almost toppled over. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you…”

His voice faded and I finally looked up at him and nearly threw up on his shoes.

“Skylar.”

Of course, it was Robert fucking Jenkins. Just my luck when I was trying to forget him, he appeared.

The way he said my name made me want to scream. And cry. And push him into the bathroom and screw his brains out.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded as if he were doing something wrong.

Robert pushed his glasses up his nose. Ugh, why did he have to be so adorable?

“I was working late and decided to stop in to get a drink. I didn’t know you were here.”

“Oh, you were ‘working late’ huh?” I drunkenly made quote marks with my fingers. I sounded sloppy. I’d be embarrassed when I remembered this in the morning.

Robert’s brows drew together. “Yes, I was working late. No air quotes required.”

“Sorry, didn’t know if that was a euphemism for something.” I rolled my eyes when really I just wanted to cry.

“You’re wasted,” he observed shortly.

I attempted to put my hand on my hip and missed, so I crossed my arms over my chest instead. “What of it? You got something to say about it?” I was being belligerent and nasty. I wanted to shut up, but I couldn’t. I was hurting. And the source of all that pain was standing less than two feet in front of me looking gorgeous and I wanted to lick his face.

He sighed. “I don’t want to fight with you. Especially when you’re like this. Can I walk you back to your table?”

“I can make it back just fine. I don’t need some big, fat liar to help me with anything.”

Stop it, Skylar!

Robert looked as if I had slapped him. “I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your way.”

“You do that really well, don’t you?” I shouted at his retreating back.

He paused and turned back around. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You’ve been awfully quiet this past week,” I huffed. “Seems you couldn’t wait to get away from me.” I was being ridiculous. I knew I was being ridiculous. Why couldn’t I stop?

“Skylar, I’ve been trying to give you space. My god, you have no idea how many times I’ve picked up the phone to call you. To text you. I’ve had to stop myself from driving out to your house a dozen times a day.” He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m a fucking mess. Can’t you see that?”

My throat was so tight I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to run to him, tell him I was being a prideful moron. That I needed him so badly I could hardly stand it.

But I didn’t.

“I’m doing what I thought you wanted me to do. But if I was wrong, please tell me.” His eyes met mine. “Please, Sky. Tell me I’m wrong.” He was pleading with me. Begging me to let him back in.

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