by Jami Wagner
“You seriously don’t know how to make any kind of drink?” Luke asks when a customer orders the first beer.
I may have told Sara I knew the basics to get the job.
“I do, just not anything with alcohol in it,” I say. That part is true.
“You’ve never even mixed a drink at a party before?”
I blink, not knowing what to say. The types of parties he’s been too are probably not the same as the ones I went to. In fact, I hardly even drank because my father and my ex-fiancé always got drunk to the point they passed out, and Mom always ended up telling people Dad had to leave early for a meeting. He never drank at home though, only at parties. And even when I moved in with Mack, there was always someone there to make my father’s drinks. The point is, I’ve never had to make a drink for anyone.
My eyes find Luke’s again, and I shrug.
He shakes his head, a grin taking over. He fills another glass with beer and then sets all the glasses he just filled onto a tray with a ticket.
“Okay, so how about tonight we start with something easy? I’ll show you how to make a couple of drinks, ones that only involve a few ingredients, and when it gets busy you can be in charge of pouring beers.”
“I can manage that.”
“Have you ever drawn beer from a tap before?”
My nose wrinkles as I give him a full-toothed smile.
He chuckles. “Okay, come here. The names are pretty easy. We keep only ten different beers on tap. The names are here.” He points to the top of each spout. “If the customer wants a bottle, you can find those down here.” He points to the lower half of the counter, which is a fridge. In fact, the entire lower half of the bar isn’t storage but half refrigerators. All filled to the clear glass doors with bottles of beer.
“You just grab the one they want, pop the top, and hand it to them.” He twists the top off and hands it to a guy pulling up a seat at the bar. I hope everyone in the town is a bottle drinker because there is no way I can mess that up.
I step back to move out of Luke’s way as the printer starts to go off. He steps forward at the same time. His chest brushes my backside, and I straighten as his hands grip my arms to steady me. I expect him to keep moving, but he doesn’t. Instead he pauses, too, and I can feel the pressure of his chest against my back as he inhales.
“Sorry, it can get a little tight back here sometimes.”
“It’s fine,” I say and turn to face him. His eyes flash between mine and my lips, and he isn’t doing anything to create space between us. I really like this job—and it’s safe to assume I’m not going to be good at it, either.
Luke
This girl is driving me absolutely crazy.
She couldn’t pour a beer if her life depended on it. She’s broken at least three glasses and has spilled, at minimum, four bottles. She’s a wreck, and our tips are low tonight. I should be angry. I need that money. My family needs it, and this is going to force me to pick up another shift here when I’m not training. I’ve already put myself behind at the store by spending more time bullshitting with her during the day than fixing something, anything. Then again, I’m still waiting on the inspector, so I have some time to solve that problem. Sooner or later, she’ll be here at the BA when I’m not and then I’ll get things done at the store.
Shattering glass captures my attention. I glance over my shoulder and spot Sky standing there with her eyes wide and a hand over her mouth. I wiggle four fingers in the air, and her head drops back so she looking at the ceiling as her arms fall to her sides.
As much of a hot mess Sky is as a bartender, she is too cute for her own good, and I know she’s trying her best. That’s what I’m pissed about. Two weeks and I’m more into her than any other girl I’ve ever met. She has all these ideas for the bookstore, which are great and I want to do them, but I also want to sell the store. Then again, she is so excited about what I can do with the place that I feel like I could be successful and maybe I shouldn’t sell.
I read somewhere that sometimes when a person develops strong feelings of any kind—in my case, anger and distrust—the power they bring out can turn into the opposite emotion. As if the first set of feelings are a mask for the real ones. I thought it was complete bullshit until this moment. Sky is last person on this earth I should trust or could ever imagine myself being with, yet I can’t seem to get my mind and body to stop reacting to her. If I’m honest, I’m not completely sure I want to.
“You two seem to be getting along pretty well.” Beth slides the round tray she uses to deliver drinks my way as I retrieve more tickets from the printer. “Is this more to do with what your mother wants, or are you two actually getting along?”
I don’t answer her right away because the tone in her voice hints she has a hunch it’s the latter, plus some. And by not answering, I can hide the smile that my lips are straining to hold back. I like Sky, but I don’t think everyone needs to know about it.
“Guys and girls can be just friends,” I tell her, turning to grab a bottle of vodka. “Look at us.”
I twist back around. Beth is looking back and forth between me and Sky. Sky has no idea anyone is watching her, and a light chuckle comes from inside me at her furrowed brow as she holds the bottle and the shot glass next to each other. Trying to figure how to put it on the bottle, no doubt.
“Well, I sure hope you puked on her, too, and she put you in the friend zone because that look on your face doesn’t say just friends, Luke. And if she did friend zone you, vomit or not, I’d say you’re lying to me or yourself.”
“Beth, can’t two people just … I don’t know, be, without having to be either just friends or more than friends?”
The shocked look on her face matches how I feel about what I just said. I hadn’t planned to say that. I know I’ve been curious if there could be a me and Sky—and there could be—but Conner said she is from money, and that throws me off. I’m struggling to support my family and here she is, not caring that someone worked hard for her to have the life she left. It doesn’t seem right.
“You let her drive your car. I don’t think you have much to think about,” Conner adds as he walks by.
“What are we thinking about?” Sky asks, walking up behind Conner. Beth slides off her chair, taking the drinks I just made, and heads in the direction of her tables.
Cheerful eyes smile at me as Sky waits for me to say something. I’m still a little stuck on how she said we.
“About whether or not I should teach you how to bake a cake after work. It is on your list and all,” I say quickly. I just invited myself to her place. Usually, it’s us hanging out at the store. Only that first day were we alone in her apartment. This could be a bad idea.
“Luke, I would love to learn how to bake a cake. But, honestly, you’ve done so much for me that I think I need to give you a break from being forced to spend all your free time with me.”
Beth is walking back at this time and mouths “free time” with raised brows at me. I glance away quickly. I’m aware I’ve spent more time lately with Sky than anyone else in the last year outside of work.
“I’m not being forced,” I say to Sky.
She smiles up at me. “Rain check?”
“Of course.” I smile back, although I can feel it’s forced. That was kind of like me asking her out, wasn’t it? Out out, to hang out—same thing, isn’t it? But she said no. Sky gives me a shoulder bump as she passes, and thank god she can’t see how big my eyes feel right now. She said no and she shoulder bumped me. Officially friend zone behavior. I’ve clearly been reading all her signs wrong.
I glance over my shoulder where she is now behind the counter, talking to a man ordering drinks. She smiles at me, winks, and turns back to the guy in front of her.
Yeah, I should probably be the one who takes male customers’ orders from here on out.
Chapter Twelve
Skylar
“So, let me get this right. You came from Washington to Wyoming because
you had too much money?”
Well, when she puts it like that, it makes me sound like a spoiled brat. I always find it awkward to explain without having to give too much personal detail. Growing up, my father was strict, and he made sure we knew all he did for us. Younger me was always thankful, but the older I got, the more I resented my father’s bragging. When Mack and I first got engaged I had hoped he would be nothing like my father, but I was wrong. Mack’s mindset with money grew worse by the day. He always made sure I knew how much he sacrificed for me to benefit from that deal. As if I needed reminding that he made the money. Because of that, he acted like he owned me. I had to wear this, look like that, or say only certain things. I despise how money can transform a person’s view on other people and the world around them. That view on life isn’t something I support. I never knew how other people lived, but I knew I wanted to find out.
“Mainly because I had no idea who I was, and I sort of still don’t. I mean, I’m working on that,” is how I sum it up.
I like the way my life has been lately. Getting along with Luke makes me feel like I’m starting to belong here. The people I’ve made friends with have given me all the confidence I need to know I’m fully capable of taking care of myself, and Luke must have just been the last piece I needed for things to click.
“How could someone not know who they are? I’m going to need an example.” With her wine glass to her lips, Beth finishes off her glass of Moscoto.
“Hmm. Oh, I have this list.”
I stand to grab the list off the counter and some of the wine in my glass sloshes over the side. I stop, gulp back the rest as if I were chugging a beer before grabbing the list and another bottle from the fridge.
After Luke mentioned coming to my place a couple nights ago, some trigger went off through my entire body. It took everything I had to say rain check. That was the moment I learned how much I look forward to being around Luke, and that’s why Beth agreed to come over and hang out with me tonight. To distract me. Only she doesn’t know, and that’s okay, because it’s working, for the most part.
She brought over some food and three bottles of wine, said I needed to stock up till I was making more money in tips. If I’m going through two bottles a night, I better start practicing how to make drinks even if I’m not at the bar.
I plop back down on the bed and shove the list at her. I refill her glass as she reads and then I fill my own. I lean toward the nightstand to set the bottle down when it occurs to me I’ve never drunk alcohol from the bottle. I don’t even need to add it to the list to know it’s something I want to do. Bottle to my lips, I take two huge gulps—shoot, that burns—and then cough, wine spilling from the corners of my mouth.
Beth’s eyes are huge.
“Soooo, are we crossing off ‘get wasted’ on the list?”
Oh, it feels so good to laugh and not be in trouble for rebelling. Technically, it isn’t rebelling anymore if I can do what I want.
“I don’t think I’m drunk.”
“That’s what a drunk person would say.”
“No, when I wrote that, I meant it as I-go-to-an-actual-bar-and-someone-has-to-carry-me- out style drunk.”
“So, you want to get black-out plastered, do you?”
“Exactly.”
“If I had a list like this, I’d want to do that, too.” She claps her hands together. “Okay, we are going to the bar to cross one or two of these things off your list tonight.”
“What, no, we can’t do that.” Luke is helping with that list. If I have Beth help me, he’ll think I replaced him. And I want him to help me with some other things on that list.
Maybe I am drunk.
“Who says we can’t?”
“Well, I have to be here,” I say.
“Where?”
“At the bookstore.”
“Why?”
“Umm,” Yeah … I don’t have an answer for that. “Because …” I try again. What if Luke were to show up and I wasn’t here?
“I thought you were trying to figure what kind of person you are. Are you the kind to follow the rules or break them?”
Oh, I’m breaking rules now? Tempting.
“Hmmm, we won’t go to jail, will we?”.
“No, girl, once is enough for you, I think.”
She is off the bed before I can shove her, and I lose my balance, steadying myself with the nightstand.
“Maybe we should wait till another night,” she suggests.
“No, I totes want to be someone who goes to a bar tonight.” Tipsy Sky must be easily convinced.
“Totes?”
“Yeah, it sounded weird in my head, too. Guess I’m not the kind of girl to shorten up words. Totally sounds way better,” I say, quickly followed by, “Which bar are we going to?”
Beth tosses a blue and green tunic blouse that is cut off at the shoulders at me. I’ve already got on brown leggings.
“Oh, toss me my flats,” I say.
“I think you should wear these shoes.” She holds up a pair of wedges. “And we’re going to the BA.”
I burst into laughter, and she clearly missed the joke.
“I can’t even keep my balance sitting on this bed and you want me to wear a heel?”
“Touché,” she says and reluctantly hands me the shoes I asked for.
Beth has on ripped jeans and a t-shirt. She rocks this outfit all the time. Her beautiful red hair I envy so much—I always wanted to be Ariel, she was my favorite princess—is loosely braided to the side.
I surprise myself when I make it down the stairs and through the store with no error in my steps. Beth’s Nitro chirps and I step toward it.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“To get in.”
“Um, no, I’ve drank two glasses of wine already, and you’re giving off the three-bottle vibe right now. It’s a couple of blocks—we can walk. I was only locking my car.”
I just laugh.
That must be my thing when I laugh. Oh no, I mean when I drink. Here I go, laughing again.
Beth plays on her phone for the entire walk. When she pushes open the door for me, I spot my list in her hand and pluck it from her fingers.
“Why did you bring this?”
“Because we’re going to cross off a few things.”
“Like what? I don’t have show the whole world on my list.” I’m all about trying new things, but I’m curious as to which she thinks I should do. Especially here.
“Hmmm.” She glances around. Her body straightens as she stands tall and smiles. I follow her gaze to a man looking up from the jukebox. He’s cute, in that light haired, boy-next-door sort of way.
“Okay, kiss a stranger.”
“What?” And, you guessed it, I laugh. “I can’t do that.”
“Yeah, I pick that guy.”
Boy-Next-Door is now walking our way. He’s smiling, and now I’m smiling, and then he’s right here in front of me. Before I can think any more on it, I push up on my toes, rest my hands on his chest, and press my lips against his. He stumbles, steadying me, all while kissing me back. A tongue touches my lip; I pull back. That counts. That totally counts.
“Hey, Tyler,” Beth says. “This is my friend, Sky. Sky, this is Tyler.”
“You know him?” I practically gasp. “That doesn’t count as a stranger.”
“I know him, you do not.”
Huh.
“Hi,” he says, grinning at me.
“Hi,” I say. Is the heat on? Surely, it’s on high.
I wrote stranger on the list so I wouldn’t have to chat with him after. Oh well, I’m still counting it.
“Are you new here?” he asks.
“Beth,” a loud voice booms, and I jump. Luke is standing behind the bar with his arms crossed. He looks furious. My heartbeat speeds up. Furious Luke is sexy. Which is weird, because when he was always mad at me, I never considered him to be hot. Well, not this hot. Maybe it’s because this time he said Beth’s name, and maybe tha
t means he’s mad at her and not me.
I catch a small movement of his hand. Does he want me to go over there?
“I’ll catch up with you two in a minute,” she says, heading for the bar. Luke is shaking his head now.
“Skylar,” Luke says my name this time, not as intensely as he said Beth’s though, and waves me over.
“So ...”
“I’ll catch up with you later, too, then.” Tyler looks bummed but doesn’t waste time heading back to the area where he was standing when we came in. Me, however, I just keeping standing in the same spot.
What does Luke want? We’ve spent a lot of time together lately. I figured he’d be ready for a night without me around.
With small steps, I start moving toward the bar. Beth pats the seat next to her.
“What’s wrong with him?” I whisper. Luke is standing at the other end. Perhaps I didn’t ask softly enough, because he glances to look at me.
“No clue, but I ordered us shots.”
“My first shot!”
“Oh boy, we are in for a night.”
I start nodding. I look toward Tyler, who is smiling at me, but Luke has no exact, distinguishable expression on his face. I swallow and the room grows even warmer than before.
Yep, we sure are.
Luke
Kissing.
They were fucking kissing. That’s not good at all.
“You all right?” Conner asks. “You’re not going to break that glass, are you?”
I loosen my grip on the cup in my hand. “Yeah, I’m fine, just a lot on my mind.”
“You and Tyler fighting or something?”
“No, why?”
“Oh, maybe because you keep looking at him like you’re about to kill him.”
Shit, am I?
I sigh and focus on mixing drinks.
“Does this have anything to do with Sky?”
“Why does everything keep coming back to her?”
“Probably because the two of you have been spending a lot of time together. First you hated her and couldn’t stand to be around her. Now, if I can find one of you, the other is nearby.”
