Page 42 of When We Met

He meansafter me.

She smiles at him and then back at me. “I might not ever leave.”

Jace looks over his shoulder and makes a motion I’m supposed to understand. I think he’s implying that she’s hot or into me, but whatever the motion is, it doesn’t register with me. I’m too caught up on what she said. I might not ever leave.

That wouldn’t be so bad, would it? What the fuck am I thinking. She’s from California. No way she’s staying here. One look at that big-city wild she has, and I know this small town, too-windy, too-boring life isn’t for her. While it’s intriguing to most who pass through looking for serenity, once this is life and there’s nothing else but flat land and the unbearable winters, they leave.

I know enough not to get my hopes up.

With ’90s country blaring through the bar, I sit at a table with Kacy, empty food trays between us. Pam Tillis is singing about love being maybe being in Memphis, and I watch my girls dancing on the bar. Aunt Tilly must be missing Colt tonight. Her husband passed away last year, and even though it’s been a year, she still plays ’90s country on Friday nights for him.

Seeming to take notice of the Christmas lights strung up around us, Kacy motions to them. “Are they excited for Christmas?”

I drop my head forward, shaking it. I’d completely forgotten with the events of last night that Christmas was in three weeks. “Ecstatic. I promised the girls we’d put up the tree this weekend.”

“I’ve never met anyone like them,” Kacy says, two fingers of Johnny Walker Red Label in a glass at her lips, her eyes on my girls. “They’re… so tiny, but their personalities are sky-high.”

I know exactly what she means. My girls are loved by everyone in this bar. They hustle too. They’ll bring you drinks from the bar for a buck and could probably put themselves through college with this gig on Friday nights. I watch Rhett dancing with Camdyn, and Jace trying to hold his own while Sev hustles him at a game of darts.

Kacy lifts her glass to my beer, her cheeks tinted pink, and neon blue dancing on the side of her face. “I’ve also never met someone like you.”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s a good thing.”

“Where I’m from, it’s a good thing. Everyone you meet in California has a hidden agenda.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And that is?”

“It’s different for everyone, but usually, fuck before you’re fucked.”

Setting my beer on the table, I snort, laughter rolling through me. “That could be taken in a lot of ways.”

“Literally.” Across from me, she leans back in her chair, my jacket draped on the back of it, and all I can look at is the way she’s watching me with rapt attention. As if she’s trying to figure out my secrets. Her blue eyes gleam and lift to over my shoulder. “What’s with him?”

“Who?” I turn my head to see who she’s looking at. All I see is Jace and Sev. She has scissors in her hand, begging to probably cut his hair. “Jace?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s unstable.”

She laughs into the back of her hand, wiping her lips after taking a drink. “Well, I can tell that. Is he married? Girlfriend?”

Jealousy swims in my veins. “Don’t bother.” You can’t miss the bitterness in my tone. I don’t give her any details on him. Because it’s as simple as don’t bother. Many have tried in this town, but he’s about as closed off when it comes to love.

“Oh, I wasn’t….” Shyly, she picks her glass up again and tucks her hair behind her ear with the other. “He’s not my type.”

I try to hide my smile, but it’s a half-assed effort. “And what is?”

There’s a slow roll of her throat as she swallows, but if I had to guess, by the purse of her crimson lips, she’s not lying when she says, “I’m not sure I know exactly what my type is, but not him. Or billionaires.”

I snort, thinking of how much Jace makes in a month. “He’s no billionaire. Boy lives with his mom.”

Her lips twitch with the need to laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I’d probably still be living at home, too, if my mom wasn’t so shitty.”

Shitty moms? We have that in common, don’t we? I exhale and lift my beer again, keeping an eye on Camdyn as she delivers drinks with the help of Aunt Tilly, who’s watching me like a hawk. I purse my lips at Tilly and meet Kacy’s curious expression once more. “So if you don’t live with your shitty mom, where do you live?”

“Oh, well, I quit my job and left. So nowhere. I live in my car. I’m homeless.” Her face rearranges as if she’s confused. “You know, I was thinking about it, and I’m not sure why people are called homeless. It’s not like they havelessof a home. They have no home at all.”

I stare at her, laughing. “You have a point.”

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