Page 2 of Waiting for Redemption

“What the fuck is this? I thought you broke your back, not your face.” Tucker says, squeezing my cheeks to smush the smile I was attempting.

“Shut the fuck up dude, you wouldn’t know how to smile either if you spent the last three months where I was.” I swat his hand away, rubbing at my jaw.

“Sorry, I couldn’t be there with you man. I would have been–” Tucker says with a pained expression.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I know.” I cut him off before he starts feeling down on himself for not being there with me. Sure it would have been nice to have someone by my side that didn’t walk on eggshells the whole time they were around me, but I knew Tucker had a business to run here and I had no intentions of letting him drop everything just for me. Not again. He gives me a small nod and looks down at the duffle I’m carrying.

“Here, let me throw this in the back and we can get going. You hungry?” He grabs the bag, tossing it in the back of his Bronco before we climb into the cab.

“Fucking starved.” He gives me a grin before speeding off down the road.

* * *

Tucker and I have spent almost every second together that he’s not working since I’ve been back, and to be honest—I’m fucking exhausted. Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother to death, but he’s acting like he’s seconds away from getting me a life-alert bracelet, and that shit’s annoying the hell out of me. After finding an apartment for me a couple of days ago, he took off work today so we could shop for furniture and get it set up, that way I’m not sleeping on the floor or his god-awful couch that might as well be made of stone. That’s one thing he and I actually agreed on—I need a real fucking bed as soon as humanly possible.

“So, you got everything moved in already?” Max asks, sitting back in his chair. He props his ankle on top of his knee as he takes a drink of his beer.

“Yeah, thanks again for letting us use your truck man.” Tucker’s Bronco didn’t have nearly enough space to load all the furniture we bought and since my truck was in the shop, Max was kind enough to let us borrow his.

“Anytime.” Max nods in response.

“Yeah.What can I say? I’m a pro.” Tucker sighs dramatically, propping his hands behind his head. Unfortunately, Tucker had to drop everything he had going on to help me since I’m not supposed to be doing any heavy lifting for a while. I’d rather eat glass than feel like an inconvenience to someone, and that’s exactly how I’ve felt these last few days, no matter how many times they tell me not to worry about it. Luckily everything we bought came in boxes that he was able to either carry or drag on his own.

At least I can still use a fucking screwdriver.

It made me feel even shittier than I already did, not being able to do more, but I tried not to focus too hard on it and just accept the help.

When we finally got done putting everything together and Tucker asked if I was hungry, I thought we’d swing through a drive-through or order a pizza. I didnotexpect to show up to a bar-b-que for three at Max’s house.

I’m not complaining though, this is the best meal I’ve had in… maybe ever, honestly. We’re sitting in the backyard around the bonfire with a cooler full of beer while Riley, Max’s service dog, finishes off her very own steak.

“I’m glad you’re coming to work at the bar, man. We’re starting to get a little outnumbered,” Max grumbles. Tucker snickers and my eyes shift between the two of them. Tucker looks pleasantly amused, and Max looks annoyed as shit—the usual for these two.

“I feel like I’ve missed something, but yeah I’m happy to help.” I offer before finishing off my drink. I feel the self-loathing trying to creep its way out of the dark hole I keep it in, but manage to shove it back down before it dares to show its face.

“Max is just suffering from a severe case of blue balls over the new girl.” Tucker rolls his eyes, causing Max to turn a deep shade of red. I honestly don’t know if he’s mad or embarrassed, but seeing him this way is amusing nonetheless.

“I do not, so kindly, fuck off,” Max threatens unconvincingly.

“Stay away from the new girl, got it.” I raise my brows and try to hide my smirk, but when Tucker barks out a laugh I can’t help but let it slip.

“Ohhh,little bro, are you trying to get some action already?” Tucker teases. “It may be a little too soon. You’re supposed to break her back, not blow yours out again.” He slaps my chest with the back of his hand as he obnoxiously laughs.

“Fuck you, dude.” I close my eyes, shaking my head in disapproval.

“Well, this immediately stopped being fun, you two are free to leave,” Max says, throwing an empty beer can at us.

“I actually do need to get going. When do you need me to start,boss?” I ask Max, as I stand to leave.

“Stop by sometime this week and Ruby will get you an application, go over the schedule with you, and start your training.” He stands from his seat and claps my hand before bringing me in for a hug, then repeats the motion with Tucker.

“Ruby, got it.” Tucker and I walk back to the Bronco in silence as I try to convince myself it won’t be so bad to be a 31-year-old bartender with a fucked up back and having some chick show me how to serve drinks.

Fuck my life.

Thank God whiskey was one of the essential things I picked up for my new apartment. Because I need a damn drink.

CHAPTER2

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