Riley’s was always busy because there was only one watering hole in a town this size. If you wanted to go out and let loose, Riley’s was your destination of choice. Unless you wanted to deal with neighboring townies. Not that there was bad blood, we just knew to stick to our own city limits.
Plus, we walked to Riley’s so we didn’t do something stupid like get wasted and try and drive home later. My apartment was fifteen minutes straight down Main Street. So if I didn’t work Monday nights, I’d go in for three-dollar margaritas. Or if I wasn’t scheduled on a random Friday night, you would find me being pulled up on stage to sing karaoke by Sam.
Thursday’s were my favorite’s though. It was college night. We sold mixed drinks by the pitcher and wasted college students tipped better than anyone. We limited them to two pitchers of their drink of choice and then cut them off. Their bills were no more than twelve dollars and they’d hand you a twenty and tell you to keep the change. Multiply that by forty college students each and it made for happy waitresses.
“Nope,” Mia replies, popping the p for emphasis. “You know nothing ever changes around here.”
We walk in silence across campus and toward the local watering hole. Spence and Jay are a few paces behind us, deep in hushed conversation. Every time I look over my shoulder to make sure they’re still following us, Jay’s eyes meet mine and his smile grows. As if to say, I’m not going anywhere. Don’t worry.
The second I step across the threshold, my eyes falling immediately to the dirty concrete beneath my feet, memories assault me. If Jay hadn’t been behind me, I may have fallen on my ass from the force I felt pressed against my chest.
My heartbeat increases the farther we make our way into the bar. A clear image of Sam leaning over the bar, her ass in the air as her feet dangled above the ground flashes through my mind. My twenty-second birthday, the week after school started. All my friends singing to me over the country music playing in the background as Sam brought out a piece of peanut butter cheesecake, my favorite, with as many candles as the little piece could handle sticking out of it.
Seventeen was the magic number. She claimed she counted eighteen but I’m fairly certain one fell off at some point.
Sliding onto the last stool at the end of the bar, a sensation tickles my spine, causing goosebumps to pebble my skin and the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.
I was sitting in the creeper’s seat.
The guy that would come in every night as we were about to close. At least a decade older than us with wire-rimmed glasses and dirty brown hair, there was nothing special about him. Nothing that made him stand out in a crowd. Except maybe the fact he hit on every waitress that came within earshot of him.
He thought he was God’s gift. Apparently, he was popular in high school. A track star, I think. Everyone knew him. Everyone loved him. His parents owned the Royal Theater, but when his father fell ill, he took over the business. Every day, after the last showing of the night, he would stop in for one beer and leave.
He always gave me a bad vibe. There was something off about him, about the way his eyes seemed to track you around the room.
A familiar poof of black hair teased high on top of her head fills my vision as I blink away the memories. Mindi’s hands are fisted at her hips and she’s glaring at me with a mixture of love and hatred in her eyes.
“Hey, Mindi,” I greet her, quickly sliding off the stool and moving to step behind the bar to give her a hug.
She welcomes me with open arms but not before giving me a tongue lashing that would make any mother proud. Because that’s what she was. A mother hen to all of us back then. She’d kick our asses when we needed it and was our shoulder to cry on when our hearts were heavy.
I came to her after Sam died. We grieved together. Cried over a bottle of whiskey. Toasted Sam and the memories we made with her.
Mindi blamed herself for not working that night. For not being there to watch over her.
I blamed myself for not making it home in time to work my shift. For Sam being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The Jack Daniels helped us drown our sorrows. Once Jack left us, we sought comfort in his friend, Jim Beam.
“You’ve been gone five years and you think you can walk back into my bar—”
Not her bar though she’s worked here longer than anyone else and the owners barely bother to show up when she’s here, knowing she’ll take care of everything.
“—ask for a hug and pretend you didn’t even bother to say good-bye to me before skipping town? I have news for you, Andi, that’s not how we do things here in Great Falls. Or have you forgotten?”
All I can do is smile. I missed her. More than I realized. More than I want to admit to myself. I’ve missed all of them, I think as I make eye contact with each of my friends as they attempt to hold in their laughter.
When I lock eyes with Jay, my breath hitches and my knees threaten to give out. It’s the same look he gave me this afternoon before we began tarnishing every surface in my room.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, unable to pull my eyes away from Jay’s.
“You don’t sound sorry. You sound like you’re about to come in your panties,” she hollers. Well, that’s one way to get me to pay attention. “Stop staring at Jay like you’re a horny college student and give me a damn hug.”
I can feel all eyes on me as Mindi and I embrace. People are calling her name, demanding drinks, but she ignores them. When she finally releases me, I hurry back around to my seat and avoid eye contact with all my friends.
“So,” Mia starts, leaning in close, “does someone need to go to confession, or should I just draw my own conclusion based on the blush in your cheeks?”
So much for keeping what happened between us private. It makes me wonder how I was able to keep my feelings for Jay a secret all those years. Or if I really was?
Chapter Twelve
We started with shots of Jack, Sam’s favorite. After three in quick succession, I challenged the guys to a game of pool. Jay raised his eyebrow at me, silently questioning my request, but didn’t back down. I knew he wouldn’t. Neither would Spence. They’ve never been able to resist a challenge.
The thing is … I’m horrible at pool. I miss the easiest shots. Put the cue ball in the pocket more than any other ball. And constantly forget if I’m stripes or solids, especially after I’ve been drinking.
But there is a glimmer of hope on my side. Mia is a pool shark, and the guys know it. She’ll have to carry the team if we’re going to have any chance at beating the guys.
“Who wants to make a little side wager?” Spencer asks as he arranges the balls in the little triangle thingy.
I’m not surprised by his question. Spencer likes to bet on almost everything. Beer pong. Pool. How to spell words. He’s willing to wager money on the littlest things because he likes to be right.
“Dude, I already lost fifty bucks to you before I got to town. I’m out.” Jay holds his hands up in the air and backs away from the table slowly, almost bumping into a frenzied waitress as she darts behind him with a tray of drinks.
“You shouldn’t bet against me if you don’t want to lose,” Spence quips, removing the triangle and spinning it between his fingertips.
“You tricked me.”
“No. I hadn’t gotten an answer yet. How is that tricking you?”
“You knew if you bugged the hell out of her, she’d finally relent. I told you as much.”
“You shouldn’t have taken the bet then.” Spencer shrugs his shoulder and smiles at Jay, taunting him.
Stepping between the two of them, I place one hand on each chest and they both fall silent. “Why do I have the feeling you two were betting on me?”
“Because they were,” Mia whispers in my ear as she breezes past me, smacking Spence on the back of the head before snagging the cue ball and heading to the other end of the table to break.
“Seriously?” I ask, looking between the two of them.<
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“He said I couldn’t get you to come. You know I never back down from a challenge.”
“And what’s your excuse?” I ask, my question directed at Jay.
“I knew if I challenged him he would find a way to convince you to come.” Jay’s smile widens as he reaches for my waist, pulling me in close. “I would have called you myself if I thought it could have made a difference.”
“And if I hadn’t come?”
“If I remember right,” he begins, his lips grazing the shell of my ear, “you came multiple times.”
Wiggling out of his embrace, I smack him on the chest and walk to the opposite side of the pool table. Mia sends the cue ball sailing down the table. It smacks into the solid green ball in front, sending the rest scattering but nothing drops.
“What’s it going to be, ladies?” Spencer asks, leaning over the table and lining up his first shot. “Wanna put a little money down on the game or are you scared to lose like my partner is?”
Spencer pulls the stick back and very gently knocks the cue ball forward into the solid blue ball, sending it into the side pocket with ease. I don’t remember him being that good at pool.
“I’ll take that bet,” Mia finally replies as he lines up his next shot. “Best two out of three. Lord knows you only perform good once a night.”
The meaning behind her words catches him off guard, causing him to send the cue ball the wrong direction, knocking in our yellow stripe. Mia giggles behind her hand as Spencer glares.
“You did that on purpose,” he accuses, handing his stick off to Jay as he rounds the table, marching in our direction. Mia hands me her stick and pushes me away.
“Your turn, California beauty queen,” Jay says loud enough to draw Spencer’s attention away from Mia before they start arguing.
Spencer stops dead in his tracks, his head whipping around as he screams at Jay, “Mine! That’s my nickname for her.”
“Calm down, Romeo. We all know that,” I say, pointing the stick across the table at him.
All three of my friends are staring at me in shock as I refuse to break eye contact with Spencer, left brow raised. He’s waiting for me to back down and it’s not going to happen. That’s when I realize I defended Jay, something I have never done before. Not because he didn’t deserve it, but because it wasn’t my place.
It was Sam’s.
If I had, it would have been obvious how I felt about him back then. Not just to Sam, but everyone. But Sam’s not here anymore. And now I’m sleeping with Jay. And apparently that means I’ve taken up the task of defending him even though I shouldn’t.
It’s not like we’re in a relationship.
Hell, after this weekend, I’m not even sure when the next time I’ll see him will be. Until we part ways, though, I plan to fully enjoy every second I have with him. Even if we have to be clothed part of the time.
Spencer breaks first, his laugher coming out in a huff as he bends over. Jay’s not far behind him, slapping Spence on the back as he howls. Mia is more reserved as she covers her mouth with her hands, the slight bounce in her chest the only indication she finds my sudden dominant personality amusing.
Rolling my eyes at all my friends, I line up a shot and quickly take it, sinking the solid purple in the corner pocket. I’m dancing in a circle, fist pumping the air, when my eyes lock with Mia’s. She’s shaking her head at me as she digs through her purse. Retrieving what looks like a twenty-dollar bill, she slaps it in Spencer’s palm.
“I thought it was best two out of three?”
“Yeah, but we made a side bet,” Mia informs me, taking the stick back and pulling me away from the table so Jay can take his shot. “I was confident you’d go at least the first game without hitting one of their balls in.”
“Spencer doubted me and he won because—”
“We’re stripes, hun. You sunk a solid.” Mia’s still laughing and shaking her head as Jay takes his shot, dropping two balls in quick succession.
Damn it!
The rest of the first game is uneventful. I miss all my shots, Mia makes all hers, and we take the first game. Irritated at their loss, Spencer heads to the bar for a round of drinks while Jay racks. I’m forced to break at the same moment Spencer returns with four bottles of beer.
His dumb ass walks behind me as I’m drawing the stick back, and I nail him in the balls. Hard judging by the groan he made as he fell to the ground, beers tumbling down with him, splashing the back of my pants and covering most of him.
“If I knew you were going to make it so I couldn’t have kids, I wouldn’t have invited you this weekend,” he jokes as Jay helps him up.
“Mia and I had a side bet,” I retort, turning my back to him and lining up to break again.
I’m not sure where my air of confidence is coming from, but I slam the stick into the cue ball, sending it sailing down the table, directly into the ball at the top of the triangle. The sound of balls clinking against one another as they scatter around the table brings a smile to my face. I hold that smile as I turn back to face Spencer once again.
“Nice break,” Jay states, his smile matching my own, the dimple on his left cheek appearing deeper.
“You bet against your partner?” Spencer asks, taking the fresh beer Mindi hands him, tipping it back before I can answer.
I look over my left shoulder to Mia for support, but she only shrugs her shoulders.
“No, but it got you to stop bitching for a second while I took my shot, didn’t it?”
Spencer shakes his head, adjusts his groin, and snatches the stick Jay’s extending to him. He has his game face on as he takes his next three shots, sinking two balls in a row before barely missing the last one. Mia comes back and matches his efforts. Jay impresses me by sinking three balls and then clearly missing his final shot on purpose. It doesn’t slip past Spencer either who calls him out, but his empty threats don’t seem to bother Jay as he sips his beer, leaning on a bar stool in the corner.
I make my first shot surprisingly but miss my next one. Movement from across the table catches my eye as I hand off the pool stick. When I look up, I find a young waitress clearly flirting with Jay though he’s not even looking at her. His eyes are locked on mine, dancing with amusement.
Stomping over to where they are, I slide between Jay’s open legs and steal his beer, taking a sip. The hoppy flavor hits my tongue, making me want to cringe, but I hold it in as I slowly swallow, turning my attention to the brunette with her hand on Jay’s shoulder.
“I’d like a Malibu and pineapple juice please,” I say, my voice as sweet as the drink I just ordered.
“Oh,” she says, taking a step back and avoiding eye contact. “Sure.”
I feel the rumble in Jay’s chest beneath where I’m resting my hand as I watch her scurry over to the bar and ask Mindi for my order. Mindi lifts her eyes, and when they meet mine, I can see the amusement dance in hers. I have a full drink sitting on the other side of the pool table.
“Why do I feel like you just peed on me? I didn’t realize you had a jealous bone in your body.”
Ha! If he only knew how jealous of Sam I was every time I saw them together.
It’s not something I’m proud of and I don’t plan on telling him. Ever. I’ve lived with jealousy wrapped around my heart for years. Honestly, my response to seeing someone hit on Jay surprises me as much as it does him. Still, if I only have a few days with him, it’s going to be me touching him. Me flirting with him. Me showing him attention. Not someone else. Certainly not someone who doesn’t know him or what he’s been through.
“Green isn’t a good color on me,” I state flippantly as I attempt to turn around and watch our friends battle it out.
“I bet you’d look beautiful in anything you put on,” Jay whispers in my ear, his right hand gripping my hip. “We should get going soon. We have plans tonight.”
“Do these plans involve clothes?” I ask, my voice taking on a seductive tone I didn’t realize I possessed.
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What is happening to me? Who is this bold person taking control of my personality tonight?
“Clothing can be optional, but I guarantee I won’t be able to focus on anything other than the taste of your skin if you’re naked.”
The thought alone causes a shiver to run up my spine. I’m fairly certain Jay’s tongue possesses magical powers.
“If I have to wear clothes, I’m guessing you want to work on the profile.” It’s more of a statement than a question. We spent the afternoon fooling around, literally, and not working like we should have been.
What we did instead was more fun, though.
“Our time is running out.” It’s a simple statement but I also hear his concern laced in every word.
To build a profile.
To figure out who may have killed Sam.
To fit together the last remaining pieces of the puzzles.
Our time is running out to solve the case before it’s closed.
What I really heard him say is, “We’re running out of time together.”
Mia manages to clear the table on her next turn, and victory goes to the ladies. Jay settles the tab with Mindi while Spencer gives Mia her money back from their side bet, both leaving with the same amount they came with. I call it a win-win. However, I can see the disappointment in both their eyes.
They’ve always challenged each other and gone back and forth. It’s always seemed natural. Right now, as we say good-bye to our friends and part ways, I can feel the tension between them. Either things aren’t as perfect as they appear, or the stress of this weekend is finally getting to them.
I can’t imagine what they went through every day for the last five years. Waiting for answers. Staring out your front window, a perfect view of the park where your friend was murdered. A constant reminder of what happened always in sight.
“Do you think they’re okay?” I ask Jay as we cross the street, heading down State Street toward the Hideaway, my home away from home for a few more days.
“I think Spencer is stressed out, and Mia needs closure more than any of us. I think they’ve been living this nightmare every day for the last five years, and as much as they want to run away from it the way we did, they can’t. They’ve put down roots here. They’re building their life here.”
A Moment Too Late Page 11