Fallen Crest Home

It was going to happen, and I knew Mason was also counting down the hours until Nate arrived. He should be rolling into town at any moment.

“Things are okay,” I told Heather.

“Really?” Her eyes found mine.

I shrugged, filling another order. “Well, I can say Mason will be relieved to have Nate here, too.”

Heather waggled her eyebrows. “Where’s the hottie Hawaiian?”

“You should know. He spends more time with you guys than with us.”

That wasn’t completely true. He’d stuck to Mason’s side like glue for the first two days after Caldron’s attack, then began heading to Roussou more and more after that. A certain blonde who had been wrapped around him on Channing’s fight night kept calling. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was wrapping around him on a more consistent basis.

Heather snorted. “Right. He shows up for pussy, then after he gets his fill, he’s off to find you guys.” She turned to Mason’s table. “He’s not here, and I know he’s not with Channing’s crew. He must be at Tiffany’s.”

“That’s her name?”

“Yeah. She’s not bad, actually. But I don’t think she realizes he’s leaving for Cain U in a few weeks for football.”

“Really?”

“She’s not mentioned it, and I know her. If she knew her new boy-toy was a big footballer, that’d be the only thing she talked about.” Heather grew pensive, her eyebrows dipping together. “Why didn’t he go pro?”

“He stayed back to play one more year with Mason.”

“Yeah?”

I nodded and left it at that. Matteo also had a girlfriend who’d broken his heart last year. She’d flown across the nation to pursue law at Columbia while he remained in California. He’d been heartbroken all over again when he realized he was single when Logan was not.

I filled three plastic cups with beer. “I think he’s hoping he’ll get drafted by the same team, but the chances of that are low. I don’t think either is excited to be separated. They’re going to enjoy their last year together on the team.”

Heather seemed like she was going to respond, but then she was distracted as Becky, Cass, and three other girls walked through the beer garden to sit at Mason and Adam’s table.

“What the fuck?” Heather murmured.

I waited, grinning. I knew what would happen next.

Mason didn’t spare them a look, only jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the picnic table behind him. One by one the girls stood, all with varying scowls, and crossed to sit at that table instead. It happened almost every night when Becky and her friends arrived. They were always booted to their own table.

I shook my head. “You’d think they’d learn.” They never did.

Heather didn’t reply, and I looked over to see her and Becky in a heated stare. Becky was holding her own. I expected to see my old friend pale and shaking, but she wasn’t. Her eyes were wide, her lips pressed in a determined line, and she was sitting straight up.

If she’d been my friend, I would’ve been proud.

But she wasn’t.

“Sam.”

I turned and headed to the opposite end of the counter where Petey waved me over.

“What’s up?” I asked.

He placed five plastic cups in front of me, along with two filled beer pitchers. “Take these to those girls who just sat behind your boyfriend.”

“No way.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m behind the counter, not on the other side, and they’ve not ordered. Since when do you give out free beer?”

“Look around. We’re slower than normal. We need those girls to call their friends. Giving free booze to hot chicks helps with sales.”

“You guys have been just fine with sales.” Thanks to me. Thanks to Mason.

He nudged the cups closer to me. “I’ve been watching those girls. The redhead will stay as long as your boyfriend’s buddy does. Once Mason and that guy finish working, they’ll take off, and that means Mark’s girlfriend will also want to leave. You’re right. Our sales have been up, but they tripled the night those girls stayed, and you want to know why?” He moved closer. “Because they called their rich friends, who had no problem dropping hundreds of dollars on our beer. Your boy’s been true to his word. He’s brought people in, but that group, in particular, has no problem burning through cash.” He tapped the pitcher. “Take the free beer to them, and try to smile as you do it.”

I gave him a look. “Why me? Why don’t you do it?”

“Because those are your people.”

I snorted. Little did he know, but I picked up the pitcher and cups and moved out from behind the counter, making my way to them. Not a chance in hell was I smiling. I made sure my scowl was noticeable as I placed the beer on their table.

Cass rolled her eyes. “Service with a smile, Sam. Isn’t that the motto?”

Becky was focused on Adam, but she looked around at the mention of my name. She stood, hurrying over to pick up a pitcher. “Sam doesn’t have to do that. She’s not a waitress.” One of the other girls separated the cups, and Becky began to fill them. “This was free? Thank you, Sam.”

“Oh, no.” I pointed to Petey. “This was all him. He had me bring them over. I didn’t want to give you guys free anything, but now that you have it, happy drinking. I hope you get drunk and puke all over your boyfriends’ cars.”

“I heard that.” Mark came up behind me, his carnival uniform shirt in hand.

“Finished for the day?” I asked.

He nodded, his gaze guarded.

“Oh good. You can get drunk, too. Petey’s orders.”

Mark stared at me for a few beats. “What’s wrong with you? You’re being mean.”

I opened my mouth. I so wasn…I was. My neck warmed, and I let out a silent sigh.

“I apologize to you, but not them.” He knew who I meant. “Your girlfriend’s been a bitch to me for years, and I have a hard time letting people back in once they’ve turned their back on me.”

Without looking at the table, I went back to the counter. My eyes met Mason’s for a fleeting moment, and I trailed a finger over his shoulders as I passed.

Heather gave me a knowing look when I returned to her, remarking, “That was entertainment. We need to schedule more of these outings.”

“Fuck you.” I laughed.

“Sam?”

I tensed, but turned around. If Becky’d had a hat, it would’ve been in her hands.

“What?” I readied myself.

“Can we talk?” Her eyes flitted to Heather, then she nodded away from the tables. “In private?”

“No.”

I went back to working, grabbing a washcloth to wipe down the counter.

“Please?”

I kept working.

She kept standing there.

Ignoring. That was the best defense sometimes, but after a full minute where I cleaned three other counters, Becky was still there. The ignoring tactic wasn’t working.

I tossed the rag into the sink and frowned. “What are you doing, Becky? I am not the Sam I was when we were friends. I am not passive. I don’t take shit.” My chest was getting tight. “I’m not nice anymore.”

Heather jumped in, quietly, “Yes, you are.”

“Not lately.” I threw her a look. This wasn’t her fight.

She held her hands up, leaning back on her stool.

Becky’s shoulders lifted as she drew in a breath. “Are you done?”

“No!” I yelled, then came out from behind the counter. “Follow me.” When we got behind the beer garden’s tent, I turned around and crossed my arms over my chest. “What do you want?!”

“You’re one of my moments.”

“What?”

She looked down, and her voice quieted. “Adam asked me last year about my top five regrettable moments. You were one of them.”

I could only stare at her. I knew what she was talking about, and my God, I was having a hard time holding myself back. I closed my eyes. My blood boiled, and I began counting to ten. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">