to make myself not look too bad. My jeans were snug and the blue tank top I threw on was perfect for a night out. I put on some light makeup, including waterproof mascara, just in case I had a mental breakdown and started to cry again. It was entirely possible. My hair was wavy and long, in need of a cut. I found some black pumps in my duffel and strapped them on, determined to look like I hadn’t just been given the worst news of my life. After a quick glance in the mirror, I grabbed my purse and headed to the bar.
Even a half hour before the band was supposed to start, the place was packed. I had to park in the parking lot across the street. There were a number of people loitering on the outdoor deck of The Landing. Most of them had a cigarette attached to the end of their fingertips. I steered away from them and toward the bouncer checking IDs.
The muscled guy at the door looked me up and down before asking for my ID. I handed it to him and couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew him. I couldn’t place him, though.
“Mallory Wells?” he said in awe.
I must have known him at some point. His blonde hair was cropped short and his gray eyes were eerily familiar.
“Yes,” I raised my brow at him, hoping he would clue me in.
“I’m Chris Baker!” he exclaimed.
I was shocked. Gone was the lanky twenty-year-old kid and a hot, older, more beefed up version of him stood before me.
“Baker!” I said, not certain if I was happy to see him, given he’d been best friends with Luke three years ago. I wasn’t sure how he would feel about seeing me, either.
When his arms wrapped around me in a bear hug of epic proportions, I figured he was glad to see me. He lifted me off the ground and swung around in a full circle before he set me on my feet again.
“It’s so good to see you, Mal.” He smiled and handed me back my ID and then led me into the bar to a tall table in the back.
Gabby was already seated. She shuffled off her stool when she saw me and gave me a huge hug. “Mallory! I can’t believe you’re back,” she crooned. “You look absolutely fantastic. Boston has been good to you.”
“Thanks, you look good, too,” I said.
It was true. Gabby had been head cheerleader in high school and how she and I ended up being friends, I never really knew. One day she was just there and she didn’t leave. I wasn’t complaining, though. Once upon a time, I’d been a perky, high-spirited girl, too. Reality had changed me.
“Sit down, you have to tell me about Boston,” she declared, shooing Baker away.
He made a face at her and I laughed but he mumbled under his breath and then walked back to his post at the door.
“What do you want to drink?”
“Umm, whatever. I’m not picky,” I said. I wasn’t that comfortable, not in the bar, and not with Gabby. I needed liquid courage to face talking with someone I hadn’t seen, or even thought about in years. “Whatever you’re having.”
“It’s a Bahama Mama. Jimmy! Two more Mama’s,” she shouted to the bartender. “So! How’s life in Boston? Is it glamorous?”
Glamorous? Not a word I would use to describe my crazy world. But I didn’t want to dash her hopes for a life outside of Casper.
“It’s pretty amazing. The nightlife is insane. On my twenty-first birthday, a bunch of the girls at school took me out to bar hop. I don’t think I’ve ever been that hung over,” I laughed.
She raised her brow at me. “Really? More hung over than Sam’s house party junior year?”
I’d forgotten about that night. “Oh, man, if we’re going down memory lane, I need to have a drink first,” I said.
Like magic, Jimmy appeared at our table and handed me my Bahama Mama. I sucked down a bit and murmured my thanks.
“As I recall,” Gabby started, “You were all by your lonesome that night, since Luke was visiting his grandparents up north. You drank an entire bottle of tequila and then threw up all over Sam’s bathroom. Baker had to take you home and when he called Luke, you were pissed.” She laughed and I joined in, remembering that night.
Luke had given me hell and forbade me to ever drink alcohol again. Even though thoughts of