Page 25 of Burnout
Brogan keeps himself busy behind the bar. He sets the Jack back on the shelf, pours a Dr. Pepper and puts it in front of me.
“I was a jerk,” I say.
“I’m sorry, what?” He turns his head to the side and puts a hand up to his ear.
“Fuck off. You heard me.”
His quiet chuckle is barely audible over the noise of the bar. “Who’d you piss off?”
I take a drink of the soda before answering. “This…girl.”
That makes him laugh harder. “Tell me everything. Leave out nothing. I love it when you Holland brothers put your foot in your mouth.”
Brogan is the only one of my brothers that isn’t related by blood. He and Archer have been best friends forever. He was always hanging out at the house, staying over, and avoiding his place. Mom used to love to dote on him. I think she must have realized how much he needed it. I don’t know all the details, but his family situation was tough and at some point, he just stopped going home. Now he’s as much a Holland brother as the rest of us.
I’m considering telling him the entire story, but then a group of women at the other end of the bar waves to get his attention.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t leave.” He points at me as he walks away.
Alone with my own thoughts, I replay the conversation with Avery. Am I crazy or was she asking for a lot? Surely Colter didn’t really spend that much time working with her.
A gymnast. I never would have guessed the prissy-looking chick in her clean white sneakers and pink lace was a gymnast. A ballerina, maybe, or a cheerleader. She has that rich, spoiled, daddy’s girl air about her.
She looked good though. Her spandex leotard left nothing to the imagination. God bless it. And all that blonde hair piled ontop of her head, no makeup, covered in chalk. Something about her looking a little less put together was sexy.
Not that it matters since she’s undoubtedly plotting my demise after I insulted her. She caught me off guard. I mean seriously, two hours every day? I don’t know when she thinks I’m going to squeeze that into my schedule.
I drop my head and mutter a curse at myself. What the hell am I going to do?
Brogan comes to stand back in front of me, but his gaze goes over my shoulder. “What’s up, Colter?”
I swivel in the barstool.
“Hey.” My buddy looks around at the place with wonder. “I can’t believe how busy this place is. Hendrick must be thrilled.”
“He’s in the back counting his piles of cash right now,” Brogan says with a grin. It’s a funny image because it’s so unlike our oldest brother, but the bar really is doing great, and I’m happy for him. It was our mom’s place growing up, then it closed for a bunch of years after she passed, and Dad sold it. Just another example of him destroying something good.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Brogan asks as he tosses out another coaster in front of the empty seat next to me.
Colter slides onto the barstool. “Do you have Bud on tap?”
Brogan nods and leaves us to pour the beer into a tall, frosty glass.
Colter waits until he has his drink, takes a sip, and then turns to face me with a knowing smirk. “Heard you had a nice chat with Avery.”
“How do you already know?” I ask, then remember. “She’s roommates with your girl.”
He nods and takes another drink. “What in the hell did you say to her? She was wound up tight, stomping around the dorm room and muttering about jerks with egos twice the size of theirdicks. I had to leave so Quinn could sage their suite and calm her friend down.”
Some of my earlier frustration resurfaces. “My ego? What about hers? Do you know she told me she’d rather light herself on fire than help me?”
Colter throws his head back with a laugh. I’m glad he’s fucking amused.
“Seriously? What the hell?” I ask him.
“All right, so you two didn’t exactly start off on the best foot.”
“That’s an understatement,” I mutter, then look at him seriously. “Tell me something.”
