Page 105 of Top Shelf
Only it’s not Gavin. It’s Reed, and he’s alone.
“Hey, Josh?”
He looks up from making a tequila sunrise, takes one look at Hutch, and nods. “Go on. I got things covered.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, already taking my apron off. I owe him big-time for covering for me yet again.
I round the bar, meeting Reed on the other side. He looks uncertain, maybe even a little scared.
“What’s wrong? Is everything okay with Auden and Alana?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.” He nods. “Everything is fine with them. Why?”
“Uh, because you’re here?”
His brows slant together, like me saying that perturbs him, but it’s true. It’s weird that he’s here alone. It’s weird thatwe’realone. I don’t think we’ve ever been in the same room without a buffer before.
“Okay, so, then, what’s up?” I ask.
“Can we talk?”
My hackles rise instantly. He wants to…talk to me?
“Um, sure.” I point toward the booth where the Serpents always gather. “We can sit over there. Want something to drink?”
“I probably should. Whiskey, tw?—”
“Two cubes. I remember. I’ll be right over.”
I go back behind the bar and grab him a double shot of top-shelf whiskey, add two ice cubes, and pour myself a shot of vodka. I’m still on the clock and shouldn’t technically be drinking, but something tells me I might want to for this conversation, whatever it’s about. I mean, I have a feeling I know, but I could be wrong.
I’m not sure I want to be, though. I want this thing with Gavin to be out in the open. I’m ready for Reed to know, even if that does mean I have to be honest about my feelings toward his teammate.
I slip into the booth opposite my brother, sliding his drink his way, and settle in. We don’t talk for a few moments, and I try my best not to stare at him because all it does is make me nervous.That’s sad in its own regard. I shouldn’t be uneasy talking with my own brother, but I am. The longer I sit there, the more my nerves build, and the urge to say something just bubbles out of me.
“So, I?—”
“How—”
We start at the same time, both of us chuckling uncomfortably at that.Good gravy, look at us. Neither of us knows how to act around the other.
I motion for Reed to go ahead.
He takes a sip of his whiskey first, then says, “How are you?”
This is the second time he’s asked about me, and I find it just as disarming as before. Something about this time feels different, and I don’t think it’s just because he’s here alone.
“I’m good.”Reallydamn good, thanks to Gavin, though I don’t tell him that. “How are you?”
“I’m not here to talk about me.”
Suddenly, the reason why this feels different hits me—he knows. He knows about Gavin, and he’s here to tell me off. My heart hammers in my chest, and my hands begin to shake. I hide them under the table, pinching myself to try to get it under control. I’m used to Reed being disappointed in me, so why is this messing with me so much?
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, and ask, “Then what do you want to talk about?”
“Us.”
For the second time, his words shock me. He wants to talk aboutus? As in me and him? What is there we could possibly talk about? Is there even an us to discuss?
