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Are we really bringing this up so soon? My stomach ticks with annoyance, knowing if they were still around, I wouldn’t be praised amongst their other surgeon friends.
“Let’s not be too kind.” I yawn, trying to wave it off.
“I have a contracting company stopping by to update quotes on the outdoor kitchen and little guest house.” Aunt Quinn’s brown eyes twinkle.
"Is Beechwood Fall’s really needing to host that many tourists for you to add on?” I get how gorgeous The Falls are, but that’s about all this town offers.
“I already have a bunch of people interested in booking a few nights and the thing isn’t even built.”
“I guess people don’t want to rent one of the four bedrooms our house has?” This house was signed over to me as of eighteen, but I’ve told my aunt to treat it as hers since I wasn’t coming back to town again.
“Too intrusive, and I’m too busy to host like it’s a bed-and-breakfast.”
“I get it,” I say quietly, and her cheeks welcome a smile.
“But these construction men are so hot, Emery. If I wasn’t serious with Carson, I’d go for either of the guys.” She smirks and tosses her hair to the side. “I briefly remember them from high school. They were both a grade or two younger, and one of them had the most mysterious flirty eyes.”
“You don’t have to stick with one person, Aunt Quinn. Sometimes it’s easier to get your fix and go.” My response happens so quickly, causing me to pause and question if I’ve sobered up yet.
“Savannah and Hallie filled me in on your recent coping mechanisms.” Her heavy gaze holds mine.Why is everyone doing that?“It may seem easier right now, but you know you’re worth more than a casual hookup.”
“Look, I know you care, but I’m old enough to make my own choices.”
“Fair enough.” She folds, as if scared disagreeing will send me away. “I’m going to finish getting ready, then I’ll be back down.”
My jaw tightens as I notice a little coffee bar now setup on top of the liquor cabinet. I stop mid-step, seeing the tequila bottle in the same position as the night I left it. The night when…
“Daisy Girl?” A deep, familiar voice startles me from behind me. The nickname shocks my system after not hearing it for five years. My heartbeat palpitating like crazy in my chest. Whipping my head to the front door, Ian Wells stands in my doorway with his piercing blues cementing me in place. I’m dizzy as I grip my hands on the liquor cabinet, and I'm transported back.
Here’s to another night of Ian coming over while my best friend cancels their plans so she can study. Ian’s been able to relate and help me through some tough moments, but Hallie shouldn’t feel the need to pawn her boyfriend off on me all the time. It’s mid-summer break, but Hallie is hyper focused in summer classes, trying to complete some college courses before graduating high school.
“This couch is the comfiest.” Ian sits with a cushion between us and shuts off the TV. Nothing has grabbed our attention in the last half hour. “Your parents had good taste in furniture.” His past-tense reference shouldn’t be a shock to my system, but my breath hitches as my heart picks up speed.
I stand and he follows, probably knowing where I’m headed. The crash only happened months ago, and drowning my eighteen-year-old self in alcohol happens to be my medicine of choice.
“I know you’re able to talk about your mom, but don’t bring up mine.” His mom checked out of life on Earth seven years ago. Maybe seven years from now I’ll be able to mention my parents.
“Emery––” Ian’s right behind me as I walk into the dining room.
“Choose something from here.” I nod to the mini bar my father enjoyed after work. “It’s Friday night and you securing another carpentry job deserves celebration.”
“Only one of us is twenty-one.” He gives me a pointed look, but I know my desperate eyes should be enough for me to convince him to hand over the bottle like he did last time.
“My parents gave Hallie, Savannah, and I each a glass of champagne on New Year’s.” And compared to everyone else in this small town under twenty-one, I’m not getting hammered at the lake or The Falls. I’m in my house.
Ian crouches down, opening the liquor cabinet, glancing back at me. His side smirk shouldn’t make my stomach flutter. “Your parents had a very specific taste in tequila.”
“Yeah, they visited Aspen every winter before I was born.” I had only been a couple of times as a young child, but that ended the older I got. “My father purchased a few bottles every trip.” I take the bottle from Ian’s hand and pour two large glasses. I wince, taking another sip before placing it at the front of the cabinet, making sure it is in the same proper position to look pretty.
“You can feel sad, you know. Angry, even.” I swear he thinks the more times he tells me to feel that eventually I will break down. Which I’m still not ready to do.
“I’m angry that I don’t like the taste of this. But I don’t want to waste it because my father isn’t here to enjoy it.” I gulp the tequila, and as the burn hits my throat, my eyes blur with unwanted tears. With another sip, I blink away the tears.
“You need a way to channel your grief better.”
“My aunt is going for her PHD in psychology.” I roll my eyes, walking into the kitchen. “Trust me, I’ve heard it all.”
“Yet you’re still ignoring it.”
