Chapter 18

Shifty’s is busy tonight. The buzzing chatter makes it sound like my head is stuck inside a beehive.

“Do you remember that time I bet you that you couldn’t eat all the carrots in Gram’s garden, and then you did? You blamed it on rabbits, and then barfed orange all over her sofa?” Teddy, my sister, struggles to get out the words through a fit of giggles.

We’ve been talking since I walked in—no, wait… no, that was Tiffany. I was talking with Tiffany last I checked. Did I black out? I jerk my head around. When did my sister show up? And where the fuck did Tiffany go? I rest an elbow on the bar and squint one eye at Teddy, trying to figure out which one I should be looking at. “How long ya been ’ere, Ted?”

“A while. You texted me you were at the bar and needed to talk, ’member? It’s not like every day your big brother asks for advice, so I left the kids with Logan.” She snorts like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard; she’s clearly as drunk as I am. “And now you’re too drunk to remember.”

I laugh right along with her, but then the ugly memory surfaces. I wanted to talk about Scottie.

Originally, I planned to pick someone up. The best way to get over one woman is to get under another, but Tiffany isn’t here anymore, and I’m way too fuckin’ sauced. Even if she was, I don’t think I could get my dick up if I was sober.

I’m just so damn disappointed. This afternoon, I jumped on the internet and did a deep dive search on her. I found out Scottie is married… to Jonathan Timmons. Timmons is her married name. I saw the newspaper archive of their wedding announcement. No doubt the woman in the photo was her.

On top of that, there’s the whole thing with Dave. I know the reason he’s fucking Scottie is to get back at me. For what? Not letting him on the crew? He was shitty as a seasonal in his prime. Now he’d be a total slouch.

Fucking married. Unbelievable.

I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. Do I tell her husband? Do I ignore it? It’s not like I knew. And if she’s having an affair with Dave, I’m sure everybody will find out eventually anyway. Doesn’t matter, I’m in no mental state to make a decision like that right now.

“’Ey Ma!” I call to the owner of the bar, Mae Taylor. After getting chastised a few times, she earned the nickname Ma from everyone on the crew. Usually, Lou is working, but she moonlights here every once in a while to give him a night off. “Top me off, will ya?”

I sway on my stool. This bartop feels so nice and smooth. I could rest here and close my eyes for a bit, perhaps just long enough for Mae to fill my glass. My cheek presses to the wood, and she slaps the side of my head. I sit up and laugh. My cheek is totally numb. I heard the smack more than I felt it.

“Can I call you a cab?”

“While I’m known for giving lots of rides, I’d prefer you call me by my name, Cal-uh-han.”

“Very funny.” She picks up the phone; it’s one of those twenty-pound fuckers. Easily could kill a guy if you smashed it hard enough against his skull. “Callahan Woods needs a ride home.”

“Hey!” I whine. “How come I have to go home but Teddy doesn’t? She’s trashed too!”

Teddy cuts in. “Don’t listen to him, Mae. He’s a liar.”

I swallow. That was the joke when Scottie and I first met—in this very bar. Funny, it was her lying the entire time, and now I’m the chump. I shake it off and flip my empty glass upside down, pushing it with one finger toward Mae with every ounce of coordination I have left.

“And Teddy needs a ride too,” Mae says to the cab service, rolling her eyes at us. “Make sure they each end up at their houses and not at another bar.”

“I’ll drive her home, Mae.” Xander’s deep voice cuts in. “I finished my last beer an hour ago.”

I snap my head around and bark out a laugh. “Where the fuck did you come from!?”

Teddy and I cackle, and it feels like we’re the chatty kids in class who the teacher has to separate and send to the hall. Or in this case, be sent home.

“I’ve got no tolerance for alcohol since having kids,” Teddy mumbles while Xander helps her off her barstool. “I’m gonna be so hungover tomorrow.” She gets one arm in her jacket and bats around for the other. Xander grasps her hand and threads it through the other sleeve. She grunts, trying to free her hair out from under the jacket.

“Yes you are,” he says, sweeping under her blonde hair and releasing it from beneath the collar.

“No funny business, X! She’s married!” I warn.

Teddy pins me with a look.

“I’m aware,” Xander says under his breath.

“Go warm up your truck or some shit,” I say. “Gotta pay our tab.”

“I’ll pull the truck up front,” he says. I mumble something else, but he ignores my bullshit and helps zip up her coat before walking out.

My hand scrubs over my face. “Fuck, I’m tired,” I groan.

“Same. I’m gonna be so hungover tomorrow,” Teddy says.

I chuckle at her. “You already said that.” Mae slides the receipt in front of me. I scribble a swirl at the bottom—no use in even trying to sign my name.

I’m told the cab is outside, and I hop off my seat, pausing a moment to get my footing. The room is spinning.

“Fun’s over. Ready, dude?” I put an arm around Teddy’s shoulder to steady us, and she leans into me. The tanked leading the tanked-er.

We take two staggered steps, inciting more laughter between us, but eventually, we make it to the exit. I yank the bulky door to the bar open and freeze in my tracks. I may be drunk, but I swear half the alcohol evaporates out of my system when I see her face.

Prescott Timmons.

Mrs . Prescott Timmons.

She glances at Teddy, then back to me. Our eyes meet. Hers are shimmering, and mine are likely glazed over like a dead shark. Fuck, she’s a smokeshow. And it makes perfect sense that she’s married. I should have been suspicious from the start. I peek down at her hand. Still no ring. The taste in my mouth grows bitter. How could she?

“Here to pick up a new suitor?” I snide, ushering Teddy past her. My eyes are filled with contempt. “Good luck.”

She actually has the audacity to look hurt, and I want to shout at her that she’s a shitty person and an even worse wife. I want to tell her how much it hurts to find out the person you loved is fucking someone else. I want her to know how gut-wrenchingly awful it is to unknowingly be the other man; she made me into a villain without my permission.

But most of all, I want her to know how much this fucking sucks because we could have been awesome together.