Page 19 of Where You Left Me

“I’m still sorry.”

I give Mom a grateful smile. She and Dad were the only people I told about the pregnancy and then when I lost the baby. They helped me make plans to move to Connecticut with my aunt. They sacrificed my never coming to town for visits becausethey knew it would be too painful for me. They held onto my secret.

I give Mom a hug and let myself break for the first time since I’ve been home. My shoulders heave as I sob into Mom’s chest, and she squeezes me tighter. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed her.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” she coos.

Mom holds me until my crying slows and I pull away. I give her a weak smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

“As always, we’ve got you, my girl.”

I nod. “I know.”

“Now, take a deep breath and go see your dad. But I should warn you, you might not want to hear what he has to say.”

I pinch my brows together. Mom has said that Dad’s speech has been jumbled since the stroke and some days are better than others. “You want to give me a hint?”

“It has to do with Jones.”

My stomach tightens.

Of course it does.

CHAPTER 5

Jones

Using work as a reprieve is the best option. But even still, my brain is a fucked-up mother-effer. It just keeps spiraling with all things Mia. Our past relationship, the events surrounding her leaving eight years ago, her words this morning when I dropped her off.

She couldn’t even stand to look at me.

How messed up is that?

And how do we move past something like that?

We can’t.

Not that I thought there was a chance of us getting back together. But did I think we might at least hook up? Ya know, for old times’ sake. I guess I did.

But knowing there’s not even a possibility of that? Has me so messed up.

I work behind the bar through the evening rush, mixing drinks, and filling pints of beer, all while getting slammed with questions and pinned with dirty looks. There’s no mercy either. No off-limits question. The locals act like my personal life is theirs. But it’s not fair game. I’m a private person.

And I can forget about getting laid anytime soon. These women are ferocious. Their nasty looks and comments inform me I’m an immature player without a heart—and that’s putting it mildly.

The guys on the other hand are a bit more understanding. I’m not asking for support or sympathy. All I really want is for everyone to leave me the hell alone so I can get back to my normal life.

There’s a hot redhead at the end of the bar. Adorable freckles across her nose and dressed in a black cropped tee giving me a good look at an inscription tattoo across her ribs. But as soon as I catch her attention, she rolls her eyes and turns her back to the counter.

Shit.

As the night continues like this, the loneliness creeps in. It would help if Maverick were here, but he’s spending time with Cammie tonight since last night she was hanging out with the girls. I’d give him a hard time and call him pussy-whipped if it were any other woman than my little sister. But she makes him happy and vice versa.

“Hey, son,” my dad greets, surprising me.

He doesn’t come to The Pines often. He prefers drinking cheap beer straight from a can while sitting in a lounge chair on his patio that overlooks Main Street. But he’s my dad and I’m co-owner of The Pines so he always drinks for free.

I don’t even have to ask what he wants. Grabbing a cold can of Coors from the bar’s fridge, I toss it to him. He catches it one-handed, much like he did in his glory days when he used to play as a goalie in his high school hockey days. And again, in the beer league as an adult. He only quit playing when he took over the hardware store from Granddad.

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