Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
How was it possible this room reminded me of her, when I’d spent thousands of nights in it without her and only two with her next to me?
I don’t know how long I lay there before someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” I said.
The door swung open, and Xander appeared. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
He tucked his hands in his pockets. “Dad told me about you and Lexi.”
“Yeah.”
“Sooner than planned, huh?”
“Things took an unexpected turn.” I explained what we’d learned about the will.
“No chance that you’d last five years?”
“I offered. She turned me down.”
Xander nodded. “You okay?”
“Yes and no.”
“I’m heading to the bar. Wanna come hang out?”
“I guess.” I swung my feet to the floor. “Kelly in town?”
“Not yet. She’s flying in early tomorrow. I’ll pick her up at the airport around ten.”
I nodded. “So things are going well with you guys?”
“Things are actually fucking great.” Xander had a look on his face I’d never seen before, something between disbelief and gratitude.
“That’s cool.” I rubbed the back of my head. “Give me ten minutes, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Sounds good.” He slipped out of the room.
“Hey Xander?”
“Yeah?” His head popped around the door.
“I don’t feel like explaining shit to anyone tonight. Can you keep the news about Lexi and me to yourself at the bar?”
“Sure, brother.” He studied me. “You don’t have to come out if you don’t want to.”
“Actually, I want to.” I stood up and reached for my bag. “Sitting around here will just make me feel worse.”
I parked myself at one end of the bar and nursed a few glasses of whiskey, growing more miserable with each one. Anyone who came up and tried to chat with me got nothing more than a few grunts in response.
All I did was think about Lexi. What was she doing tonight? Had she gone out? Was she home alone? Had she gone back to our place or was she still at Gran’s? Every now and then, I took out my phone and contemplated answering her text, but I didn’t know what to say.
I read her messages over and over again, my feelings vying for control like my brothers and I used to fight over the last donut in the box. Sadness. Guilt. Anger. Frustration.
Polishing off my drink, I scowled into the empty glass.
“You’re going to scare away my customers with that face,” Xander said from behind the bar. He leaned forward on two hands. “Why don’t you let me call you a car? You’re obviously not up for this tonight.”
“I’m fine.”
He laughed. “You’re not, and if I could, I’d sit down next to you and try to figure out what the fuck is going on in your head, but I’ve got a business to run, and we’re packed and short-handed.”
“So put me to work,” I told him.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.” I slid off the barstool and cuffed up my sleeves. “Put me to work, Xander. I need the distraction.”
He shrugged. “Okay. Since you asked.”
I spent the next several hours doing everything from washing dishes to serving food to pouring beers to bussing tables. I sweated through my shirt. I broke a glass. I fucked up drink orders. I apologized and brought new ones. But I stayed busy, which was better than sitting on that fucking barstool and realizing how lonely I was going to be without Lexi in my life.
I kept seeing things that reminded me of her. Some woman came in wearing a top in Lexi’s favorite shade of green. Another had her hair in braids. At one point, I heard someone laugh, and it sounded so much like Lexi, I nearly dropped the tray I was carrying.
Around midnight, I heard Xander shout, “What the hell are you doing here?” and I looked up to see him swooping Kelly into his arms.
“I grabbed an earlier flight!” she said. “I couldn’t wait to see you!”
He held her tight, lifting her up so her feet didn’t touch the ground. I was seized by an envy so fierce, it felt like an icy claw around the back of my neck. I turned around and walked away.
I stayed until close, locking the door behind the last customer and helping Xander and his staff shut everything down, cash out, clean up, and restock. When he’d walked the last server to her car, he came back inside where I was just replacing the trash can liner behind the bar.
“One more?” he asked, pulling down a bottle of whiskey.
“Sure.” I took a seat on a barstool and watched him pour us each a couple fingers.
He handed me a glass and tapped his against it. “Thanks for the help tonight. If that whole millionaire real estate developer thing doesn’t work out for you, you’ll always have a job at Buckley’s Pub.”
I laughed glumly. “Thanks.”
We each took a drink, and he leaned back against the counter. “So what’s really got you fucked up?”