pathetic that I have a favorite table in a bar, but I do. Sitting up on the barstool, I bring the cold beer bottle to my lips and take a long pull.
Glancing around the room, I look to see if there’s anyone new, any woman that I maybe don’t recognize. I see the same faces in the crowd, unsurprisingly.
Leaning back in my chair, I dig my phone out of my pocket. Scrolling through, I look to see if there are any new messages, anyone I can call and shoot the shit with, but there isn’t. Louis is home with Tulip. Wyatt is with Exeter and their little girl. Rylan and Channing have two little ones at their place.
I’m the only one in our group of friends who doesn’t have someone. I know that I could call any one of them and they would drop everything if I needed them to, but I’m not that guy.
Just because I’m living a life of misery, there’s no reason to drag them into that shit, plus there’s nothing they can do to help me out with that either.
Finishing my first beer, I don’t bother drinking the second. Making my way back to the bar, I pay Lucy-Dawn my tab and leave Pardners altogether. I could go down to Headlights and watch girls dance, but after Tulip worked there, it’s just not as fun as it used to be.
Feeling defeated as fuck, and more depressed than I should, I head back home. The roads are quiet and empty as they always are past dark around here. Gallup isn’t really known for its thriving nightlife.
Unable to stop myself, I do something that I always end up regretting, but I do it just the same, far more often than I’ll ever admit. I turn my truck toward a house that has been empty for years.
It doesn’t take me long to get there. Stopping across the street, I shift my truck into park and squeeze the steering wheel with my fingers, pinching my eyes closed before I turn my head.
Opening my eyes, I focus my gaze on the little house. It needed new paint about twenty years ago among a million other little things to the outside and a full overhaul inside. It never happened though, and now it sits empty.
Stevie LaRue’s parents’ place. I spent more time here growing up than I did my own house. The old porch swing is still intact and my eyes drift over to it. I can still see Stevie sitting in the corner, her feet pulled up and her cheek resting against her knees.
I had my first kiss on that porch swing. Confessed my love there the first time too. It’s where I proposed. Where every good moment in my life happened. It’s also where I stood the day after the wedding that never took place, and I begged Stevie’s parents to tell me where she was.
It’s where I lost my dignity and didn’t give a flying fuck where I cried and begged to see her. It’s also where they denied my every request, even months later. I didn’t just lose Stevie the day she walked away from me, I lost her entire family, too.
Anger boils beneath my skin’s surface. I shouldn’t be angry, not anymore, but I am. Starting the engine, I try to shake off the feelings of anger and betrayal as I head home, but it doesn’t work—it never does.
Stephanie, Stevie, Sterling, whatever the fuck she wants to call herself, she will always be there in my mind. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get rid of her, and that shit pisses me off more than anything. I wish she would just fucking disappear, but she’s goddamn everywhere.
Chapter Two
STEPHANIE
Opening my eyes, I reach for my phone as I roll over to my side. I’m not surprised to see that there are dozens of new notifications.
I have text messages from my assistant, publicist, agent, and even a couple from the casting director of this trilogy film I’ve been in. We have already filmed the first two movies and I’m waiting on news for the third to begin.
Opening my assistant’s text first, I frown at the message that he’s sent me.
It simply states.
CALL ME.
He never asks me to call him. He’s definitely someone who prefers texting over actual interaction, which works for me because I get enough phone calls on a daily basis that it’s kind of refreshing.
“What’s wrong?” I ask before he can even say hello.