like to be alone. I crave the presence of others. Maybe not their words, but I want someone with me. Which is why I still live with my brother.
Maybe because she feels bad about sleeping with my brother when I asked her not to, Presley follows me outside. The cool wind off the Pacific Ocean kicks up the smells of fried food, grease, and warm salty air. Presley complains the entire time, attempts to tell me about her night with Avie, but I hear none of that.
For two reasons. First and the most important, no girl wants to think of their brother having sex. Hearing about it is even worse—which unfortunately happened because they fucked in his office, and I was in the supply room. It was awful and I’m still irritated with both of them. And second, I spot the Amphitrite docking at the pier and the rush of activity surrounding it.
I love the name of the boat. I looked it up once, and it’s said she’s the goddess of the sea. How fitting for a fishing boat, huh? Most of my childhood I obsessed over Greek mythology, so the fact that there’s a boat named after the goddess of the sea makes me want to know more about the owners.
Presley interrupts my thoughts with “Look, I’m sorry I did it, and I said I wouldn’t.”
I look over my shoulder at Presley. She’s leaning against the side of the building, not helping and staring at her phone in her hand. “No you’re not. Now, help me.”
I’m not as mad as I’m leading on. Truth is, I’m not mad at all that Presley finally gathered up the nerve to tell my brother how she felt. She’s had a crush on him since she was seven. She’s twenty-three and finally told him. I don’t fault her for that, but I know my brother and his tendencies with women. Reacts and then regrets. Wouldn’t be the first time, and by the way he’s ignoring her today, that’s more than likely what’s happening again. Which sucks, because Presley’s my girl, and if my brother breaks her heart, I’m going to have to kill him.
Kidding. But I might find a way to rough him up a bit.
Peeking his head out the half-open door, Everett smiles at us. “Why is the bar unattended? If Fletcher wasn’t such an honest old man, he’d be lit by now.”
I smile, sweeping my hair from my face. “Presley was supposed to be tending bar.” Paybacks.
Tucking her phone in her back pocket, Presley rolls her eyes. “I’m on it.”
“Need some help?” Everett steps toward me, reaching for one of the cases of beer in the back of Avie’s truck. “You shouldn’t be lifting these by yourself.”
Here’s a fun fact. I lost my virginity to Everett when I was sixteen. I thought I was going to die, and I did not want to die a virgin. If you tell my brother, I’ll deny it because Everett is his best friend and that would make me, you know, a hypocrite. So let’s just keep this treasure nugget to ourselves and move on. We’re fine. It was sex. Nothing special. And we’ve rarely mentioned it since.
I rip the box away. “I’ve got it, E.”
He holds up his hands and backs up a step. “I know you do.” Tilting his head, he watches me curiously. “I’m just offering some help so you don’t overdo it.”
It doesn’t matter how many years pass, people see the scar on my chest and they know I’ve had heart surgery. Suddenly, I’m not capable of doing anything. “It’s been six years, Everett. I can certainly handle lifting cases of beer.”
Aggravated with me, he sighs. “Whatever you say.”
His feet drag against the gravel, and then I hear the thick metal of the door screeching as it slams behind him. I glare at the building. I’m locked out. Damn it. “Everett,” I groan, regretting telling him to leave.
Hauling up the two cases of beer left in the back of the truck, I attempt to carry them around the front of the building. It’s heavy and more than I can take. I make it around the side before I drop one of the cases.
Tears surface and my anger builds inside me. I look down at the beer spilled on the sidewalk, and then familiar expensive shoes in front of me.
Fucking Devereux. I should have known he’d come looking for me today.
I slide my gaze to his. “Need some help?”
Don’t be fooled by