Page 6 of Carry Me Home
“Yeah.” He studied the image for a moment. “I like those.”
I moved to the barstool next to him because, again, I had nothing better to do and I was too curious for my own good. I leaned toward Janie’s phone. “Those are nice. My mom grows dahlias.”
A woman down the bar lifted her hand to get Janie’s attention. Janie stuck her phone in her pocket and pushed away from the bar. “Holler if you need something.”
I watched her leave, then turned to Steven. “Why are you at a bar, talking to strangers about fucking flowers, when you want to be home with her?”
He rolled the bottle between his hands. “It’s complicated.”
It was funny how often I’d heard that phrase when nothing in this world had ever struck me as complicated. Not even killing people. “Nah, that’s lazy.” I shook my head. “It’s pretty simple. If you want to be with her, hooking up with a random woman at a bar is self-sabotage.”
He glanced around the bar, seeming to weigh his options. From the way his mouth tightened, I could guess that not a single person in the room held his attention like the girl waiting at home for him. “You got a better option?” he asked.
“My advice?” I tipped my beer to my lips, appraising him over the rim, and took a swallow. “Go home. Take a cold shower.”
“Unless you want to get snowed in with us,” Janie offered.
Steven’s cheek ticked. Then he swigged his beer with long, deep swallows, draining the bottle. He slapped a handful of cash on the counter, nodded to me, and he was gone.
The remaining stragglers took that as their cue to leave, too. They followed him out, one by one, until the only people left were me and Janie.
We looked at each other.
“The snow is coming down hard now,” she said. There was a question in her eyes.
“That it is,” I agreed.
But I didn’t move.
2
JANIE
He didn’t remember me.Why would he? It was one day twenty years ago, and we hadn’t spoken a single word since. I hadn’t even seen him again until my first day at Aspen Springs High School, when I’d been a freshman and he was a senior.
By the end of the first week of school, I’d had his schedule memorized. I knew he saw me standing there against the lockers that lined the halls, pretending I had some reason to be in his vicinity because Jack Price saw everything, but he never acknowledged me. He’d already forgotten me, even then.
But I remembered him. I remembered the way he moved through the high school, so sure that every step he took was the right one. He never got in trouble, never clowned around, and somehow he was still invited to every party. Every teacher wanted him in their classroom. Every guy wanted to be him. Every girl wanted to date him.
Including me.
Not that he cared about some gawky freshman stalking him. And at fourteen, I was definitely gawky. I blossomed my junior year and never wanted for dates after that, but by then Jack had graduated. He left Colorado and joined the military.
Whereas I stayed put and got in trouble.
Probably a good thing he didn’t remember me, actually.
I grabbed a rag and a spray bottle of cleaner and started wiping down the tables. No one else would be walking through that door tonight. Not with the snow coming down like this. If Jack weren’t here, I’d call up Brax and ask him for permission to close the bar early. Brax wasn’t a jerk, so he’d let me.
But Jackwashere.
And I wanted him to stay.
I glanced over my shoulder at him and found him staring straight at me. He had turned around on his stool so his back was to the bar top. My cheeks heated and I wiped harder at the wood table. Jack didn’t have to know it was already so clean you could lick it.
“You play cards, Jack?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said. “You got a deck?”
