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Like I missed the fact that today is Tuesday, and not Wednesday, and ended up working both. Dammit.
Though, have to admit, reaching the back of the bar and seeing Seth planted on a stool sipping at his beer and smiling, no trace of discomfort on his face, makes me glad I did. I hate seeing the people around me in pain, and hell, I’d take over the motherfucker’s shift any day if it means he’s going to rest his damn shoulder and come through fine in the end.
Ocean raises his beer at me, grinning like a jackal. “J, you made it.”
Obviously. I’m here, aren’t I? I nod at him and mellow down when he shoves a chilled bottle into my hand. “Hey, Shun.”
He laughs. “My brother used to call me that.”
I lift a brow. “Didn’t know you had a brother.”
Ocean’s eyes are a light color—blue or gray, I never paid much attention—but now they darken and flatten, turning into polished stone.
“Yeah, well.” He takes a long swig from his beer, his tone inscrutable. “I wish I could forget I have one, too.”
Whoa. I don’t have siblings—that I know of, at least—and the brothers I know, like Asher and Tyler, would literally die for each other. Seth and Shane, who granted, are cousins, not brothers, look out for each other. And, hell, although my adopted brothers of Damage Control are sometimes a royal pain in the ass, we get along just fine.
Doesn’t take a genius to realize Ocean’s relationship with his bro isn’t all sunshine and roses, and his stony expression tells me he isn’t too keen on talking about it, either.
I shrug to myself and take a gulp from my beer. It slides, cool and soothing, down my throat, and I make a show of watching the pool game happening a few feet away—Shane vs. Micah—while my mind whirls away to something Megan told me today, at work, when we were talking about Audrey and Asher’s upcoming wedding.
Normally I wouldn’t have paid much attention. My attention is scattered on the best of days, and today I’m running on fumes. But it was about Amber, because I mentioned she was invited,
too, and I can remember what Megan said, word for word.
“Your girl. She’s something special.”
That was it. Then a flood of customers interrupted her impromptu analysis of Amber, and I’d spent the afternoon running up and down without a moment to wind down. And then I did the same for another four hours at the taco joint.
No wonder I’m dead on my feet and my brain is rattling loose.
Your girl, though. That’s what caught my attention.
Not that Amber isn’t special. I wouldn’t know, of course, I hardly know her, but she feels special. Shy or not, girl has strength. When I tease her, she looks me in the eye and answers right back. Teases back, despite admitting she got bullied in the past.
Girl hates social events and wears mismatched pajamas. She likes to pull her long hair up, but when it’s down she looks like a sex goddess, and I…
Christ, I should stop thinking about her all the damn time.
“Hey, man.” Micah claps me on the back. “So cool you made it.” He turns back to the nearby pool table where Shane is obviously kicking his ass.
“Ev not here?” I ask, stepping closer to watch Shane take aim with his cue and shoot yet another ball down.
“She may pass by later.” The grin he flashes me is so fucking big I want to laugh. “What?”
“Nothing.” I cover it up with another gulp from my beer. “Hey, just wondering, you know… Her ex-boyfriend hasn’t shown up again, sniffing around, has he?”
“No. Why you asking?”
“Nada. Just curious.” And seeing Seth in pain brought it all back—the phone call I got from him, his slurred, gasping voice asking me for help, finding him beaten up and bleeding on the sidewalk… Yeah, I was the one who found him. No wonder I feel kinda responsible for his recovery.
“Talking of chicks…” Shane shakes back his dark mane and winks, then glances over his shoulder.
What the fuck is he doing? And who’s talking of chicks anyway?
Then I see her.
Not Amber, unfortunately. God knows I’ve pictured her so often in my mind’s eye lately that I wouldn’t be surprised to see her appear out of thin smoke. No, this girl is blond and curvier. Pretty, I guess.
