bar to a table near the dart board.
Three men sit there, all with varying looks of Nash genes. Of course I saw them all at the Summer Kickoff Carnival, but not up close and not for very long.
One gets up from the table, his swagger echoing across the room.
This is the brother Keaton left to go help the other night, I’d put money on it. He’s younger than Keaton, and me by about three or four years from the look of him. Charm oozes from every pore, and he’s more of a pretty boy than his brother; more muscular, almost as tall, but his hair is darker and his eyes are a sea glass blue that makes me think of the trip when my parents brought us to the ocean in Florida.
I can see how this young hotshot is the life of the party. The megawatt smile, the way he leans into women all over this bar. But you can see the gait in his walk, like he’s on his sixth beer when everyone else is on their first. I can see the bags under his eyes and how he keeps taking shot after shot, as if the alcohol won’t puncture his veins until he’s at the bottom of the bottle.
And all at once, worry swamps me. I may not have directly dealt with an addict, but I’ve had friends and colleagues who have. I know how hard it can be to love someone with the disease, and how difficult it is to support but scold them all at the same time.
Keaton is the head of his family, and the anger that washed over his face at the water tower the other day makes sense. This has been going on for a long time, if I’m correct in observing his brother.
“Presley! Hey, you’re the one banging my brother.” His brother spots me and starts to make his way over.
Instantly, my face heats at his assessment of me.
Lily rolls her eyes and Penelope holds up a hand to stop him from getting too close. “Fletcher, go sleep it off. You’re drunk, just like you are every time I see you. If Keaton heard you shooting your mouth off like that, he’d shut it for you.”
Fletcher, now I remember his name, has the decency to look guilty. “Sorry, Presley. I just get excited that Keat is finally dating someone. He’s just the best, my brother, you know?”
He’s like one of those drunk college girls praising everyone when they’re hammered. I should know, I was one.
But I’ll take it. “He is. Nice to see you again.”
“But tonight, he’s lame. Didn’t want to come out with us … said he didn’t want to intrude on your girl’s night. You should call him up, tell him to get his ass down here.”
As soon as he suggests it, the other two Nash brothers make their way over. I recognize Bowen, Lily’s ex, the brooding one with ghosts always in his eyes. He takes one look at her and falters. Then there is Forrest, Fletcher’s twin, who came to my yoga class and talked the whole way through it.
“Good to see you both again.” I smile at them, feeling weird because I’m technically dating their brother but we’ve never spent time together.
Especially without said brother.
“Hey, good to see you, Presley.” Forrest nods. “I’m sore as hell, by the way. I have a feeling yoga isn’t my thing.”
“Yeah, considering you talked the entire time.” Penelope smirks.
Laughter bubbles in my throat. “Yeah, maybe it isn’t exactly your thing, but I appreciate you attending with Keaton.”
“Got him wrapped around your finger already, huh?” Fletcher grins.
“He is pretty smitten.” Forrest chuckles.
“Way to make me blush, guys.” I take a sip of my wine to disguise my awkwardness.
It’s the last in my glass, I’m surprised to find, and I flag down the bartender for another.
“They’re just letting you know that he’s happy, and we’re happy for him.” Bowen’s gruff voice holds no happiness, but I know he means it.
His eyes keep straying to Lily, who looks like she is trying to melt into her barstool. You can cut the tension between these two with a spoon, and I feel so bad for them that my heart actually aches.
“I’m going to uh … I’ll be right back.” Lily bolts, her strappy, summer sandals clacking as she hightails it across the bar and away from the man who broke her heart.
A stream of anxious breath whooshes out of Bowen, and Forrest claps him on