Page 2 of Finally Home

He smirks and waves me off. “You’re not, I promise.”

I’m just about to ask him for a menu when he disappears down a hallway beside the bar, which I assume leads to the kitchen. Well, okay, then. Guess he’s using his “reading people skills” to determine what I would like.

While he’s gone, I take that time to look around the bar. The dark cherry wood really pops against the light-colored walls. My favorite part is the multi-wood-plank accent wall behind the bar. It’s cute and somewhere I could see myself hanging out. And definitely at the top of a list that my family would never be caught dead in.Maybe that adds to the appeal.

The sexy bartender returns and places a plate of what looks to be egg rolls in front of me. Wow, talk about fast service.

“Southwest chicken egg rolls with a homemade avocado ranch.” My mouth instantly waters, and I hope there’s no actual drool. “Best food in town, although I’m a little biased,” he says before checking in on other customers.

Steam rises from the plate. I know I should let them cool more, but they smell so incredible that I think it will definitely be worth burning my tongue. I take a small bite and moan loud enough to turn the heads of the patrons at the other end of the bar. Even the bartender turns to glance at me, but instead of saying anything, he just winks before returning to his conversation.

I turn back to the plate of heaven, trying to ignore my embarrassment and praying to all the gods above that I can keep my moans in check.

When at the register, the bartender glances over his shoulder. “Good, huh?”

Stupid me, of course, just shoved another bite of food in my mouth at the same time. I cover my mouth with my hand to have some semblance of manners as I reply. “Best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

He presses his lips together as if trying to smother his laughter.

What the hell is wrong with me?I know I’m awkward as hell, but in the brief span of my time here, I’ve wanted the ground to swallow me whole multiple times. I take another sip of my delicious drink, thankful I didn’t drive.

“Have a good night.” He waves to the guests who were at the other end of the bar as they pass by to leave then turns his attention back to me. “So, what brings a beautiful woman like yourself into a bar alone?”

My cheeks flush at his compliment. He’s not flirting with me—I have to tell myself. I’m sure it’s all part of his bartender charm. The bigger the compliments, the bigger the tip.

“Umm, my brother’s getting married.”

“Congratulations.” He smiles, but seeing my tensed muscles, that smile turns to a frown. “I mean, congratulations,” he repeats, only this time, he says it in more of a dejected tone. “Is his fiancée a bitch or something?”

“Yes, no. I mean, I like her. The best man—” I pause. I can’t believe I’m about to spill this to a complete stranger, yet I can’t help myself from letting the words fall from my lips. Blame it on the liquid courage, I guess. I let out a heavy sigh. “The best man, my brother’s best friend, is my ex. Well, I don’t know what he is.”

“Yeah.” The bartender nods. “I can see why that might make someone drink.”

I smirk at his sarcasm and wrap my fingers around the cool glass. There’s honestly so much truth in his words, though.

“It’s complicated. Brett and I sort of dated in secret behind my brother’s back for years. The sneaking around and secrets was fun at first, but it got old real fast. At one point, I was desperate for him to touch me in public, and with every flinch from him each time I tried to hold his hand, I think my heart broke slightly. Finally, when I broke down and told him I wanted to come clean to everyone and tell my brother we were seeing each other, he dumped me.”

“Wow, what a dick. Although, I’m not sure how I’d feel about my best friend and my sister sneaking around behind my back.” He waves his hand in the air and gives me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, continue.”

I take another sip of my drink for the liquid courage, although there’s not much more to the story. “No, it’s okay. There’s not much to it, really. Anyway, fast-forward to today. My parents are hosting a lavish engagement party. It’s really just another way to show off their ‘perfect family’ or, well, their perfect son because I’m more what my family would call the black sheep. My parents are both Ivy League educated—a lawyer and a doctor, and my brother followed in my father’s footsteps in law, but then there’s me. I’m still not convinced that I wasn’t adopted. I mean, I might have strong Armstrong genes in looks, but that’s where it ends. My late Grams always said the wanderlust bug bit me, and she was the one who had encouraged me to give in to it and travel,so I did. My parents had planned my whole life out, but it just wasn’t for me, and I don’t think they ever forgave me. Life’s too short to be unhappy.”

I leave out the part that what was supposed to be my home just never, ever felt like home. In fact, nowhere has ever felt like home, so I made a rule that I never stay in one place too long.

“And are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Happy.”

Am I happy? Who knew a three-word question could hold so much weight?

I’ve traveled all over the world, snapping photos along the way and not tying myself down to one place. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. “Yeah, I am.” I exhale a breath and chuckle. “I can’t believe I just spilled all that to you.”

The bartender takes a sip of his water and shrugs. “Another perk of the job, really. Free therapy.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of stories to share, then.”

He laughs, and it’s a sound I could listen to on repeat for hours. “Yep, some I couldn’t even fathom ever repeating. Might make my mom wash my mouth out with soap. So, if your parents are throwing a party, it still doesn’t answer my question of what brings you here.”

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