Page 1 of Careless
Chapter 1
Felicity
“Happy birthday!”
I grinned at my four friends who I’d dragged up to my small town from college. The crew not only knew how to plan an event, but they were also a fearsome foursome of joy, exuberance, and abundance.
Lauren, Laura, Laurelin, and Laurel had been best friends since grade school. They’d all lived in the same suburb of Denver, gone to the same schools, lived within the same group of neighborhoods—even though they’d moved a couple of times throughout their lives—and went to Denver State University. They’d split dorm rooms, and when it had come to renting a house for their junior and senior years, they’d all lived together. And somehow, I had been enveloped in their L-named arms when I’d been on the hunt for an off-campus room.
Sadly, as my parents had named me Felicity, and I didn’t quite fit in name-wise—or in many aspects otherwise—but I loved these girls. They treated me nicely and reminded me I wasn’t alone even though I was technically a small-town girl, complete with Journey’s musical lyrics.
“Thank you!” I said as we each held up our shot glass of tequila, tapped it on the bar top, and slugged it back.
The burn was like nothing else I’d had in my life. It felt as if a clawed hand scraped down my throat, set it on fire, and told me that trash was the most amazing and delicate taste that would send me over the edge.
I choked, throat burning, before I bit into the lime that Laura handed me.
“You were supposed to lick the salt first, silly,” Laurelin teased.
Eyes watering, I blinked a few times and set the shot glass down on the bar top. The bartender with familiar eyes just raised a brow at me, and I ignored him.
Of course, I was going to ignore him tonight.
Rune would never let me hear the end of it. After all, he was my big brother. At least one of them. In a world of over-protectiveness, I had two big brothers. While Atlas was out on the road, playing for the Portland Gliders and kicking ass as a goalie in the NHL, Rune had stayed behind in our small town of Ashford Creek because he loved the place. Or so he said.
And I stood here in Summit Grill, his bar and grill—the only true one in all of Ashford Creek—and nodded in thanks as he handed over a glass of water.
“Oh, thank you,” Laurel purred as she fluttered her eyelashes at my big brother.
I gagged again, but this time, it wasn’t over the drinks. “Hey, remember what I said. No hitting on my brother,” I said with a laugh and choked once again since the burn of tequila wouldn’t go away. “How do people drink this?” I asked before chugging half of my water.
It was my twenty-first birthday tonight, and while I was going to drink to my heart’s content because that’s just what you did and I didn’t mind following some traditions, I wasn’t going to be an idiot and end up with alcohol poisoning. Hence why I knew exactly how many drinks I was going to have. I marked each shot or cocktail with a Sharpie on my arm and was required to have one glass of water per drink.
The four Ls didn’t follow my mantra, but Rune wouldn’t serve me in his bar if I didn’t. And while he was grumpy, kind of mean, and way too overprotective, he was right.
“Oh, I forgot he was your brother,” Laurel said with a soft laugh, still fluttering those eyelashes. She was probably going to blink out her contacts soon if she didn’t stop.
“There’s my baby girl.”
Head slightly spinning, chest warm, and throat finally hydrated, I looked over and held back a groan—even though a smile crept over my face.
Gwen Carter, with all her gorgeous honey-blonde hair, threw herself at me and hugged me tightly. Jackson Carter followed behind and picked us both up as if we weighed nothing and as if the man wasn’t in his fifties.
“Mom. Dad. You’re here!” I quickly glanced down at my arm, grateful I was only on drink two of the night. Dad set us both down and kissed the top of my head. I didn’t miss the look, that glance between the four Ls. Maybe they weren’t as close to their parents, but I was. I loved them. I wasn’t exactly embarrassed by them.
“I didn’t know you guys were going to be here tonight,” I said, and didn’t miss the rough chuckle Rune gave from behind the bar.
“Like these two would miss their baby girl out in the world, able to drink legally. When their son owns this bar? No. I don’t know why you’re surprised.”
I barely resisted the temptation to flip him off. It didn’t matter that I was now twenty-one—my parents would kick my butt if I flipped him off or cursed at him. I may be an adult who was now two legal drinks into my night, but I was still the baby girl, and there were rules in Ashford Creek.
I put on a bright smile, hoping the cracks didn’t show at the edges, and gestured to the four Ls. “Mom, Dad, this is Lauren, Laura, Laurelin, and Laura.”
“It’s so nice to meet you,” my mom said as she leaned forward and hugged each and every one of them.
They hugged her back, looking surprised, and yet each melted into my mother’s embrace. That was my mom—sweet, slightly terrifying if somebody hurt one of her cubs, and the mom’s mom. After all, I knew that each of my friends had their own mother issues, but I actually liked my parents.
Shocking.
