we keep for St. Patrick’s Day?”
“Perfect.” Presley claps her hands together. “George said he’d bring over pizza for us.”
Everett snorts. “What the fuck’s wrong with my food?”
“We’re tired of eating it,” Dylan adds, refusing to touch the pancakes, but she takes two sausage links and shoves both into her mouth at once.
Everett shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You weren’t complaining much when you—”
“Okay.” Mal slaps her hands on the bar. “That’s enough.”
Kylo makes his way back down the hall and heads quickly into the kitchen. Sighing, I follow him. I catch him in the supply room where he is digging through the towels we keep stored in there.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you sooner,” I tell him, keeping my voice down. “I never wanted to make you feel bad.”
He doesn’t turn around. “Okay.”
I fidget, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “Are you mad at me?”
His body tenses, a quick breath, and then he turns around to face me. “No, I’m not.” At first, I don’t see it, and then he moves from the shadows of the supply room, and his face comes into view. That’s when I see the purple under his right eye and the swelling.
“Oh my God.” I cup his cheeks, angling his head. “What happened?”
He jerks his head away from me. “Nothing happened.”
Let’s face it, this is Kylo. It’s not the first time I’ve seen a black eye on the kid, but could it be something more? Is he in trouble? Did Lincoln hit him? Believe me, I don’t want to believe that one, but you never know.
Kylo moves around me and back to the kitchen. I stand there for a moment, wondering what I did wrong that made him suddenly not want to talk to me.
Right. He kissed me, and I told him I didn’t feel the same way about him.
AROUND TWO IN the afternoon, I’m still at the bar, but hardly working. I spent most of the morning filing for Avie, and then a couple of hours making sure the windows on the street are clean.
Standing on the sidewalk, I admire the streak-free glass when I hear, “Journey!” and then there are small arms wrapping around my legs.
I smile at the one holding his body to mine. “Hey, buddy. How was school?”
Shrugging, he lets go of me. “Boring. This girl named Mabel keeps trying to kiss me.”
I laugh. “I know little Mabel. She’s pretty, huh?”
Another shrug, his attention is now on the boats lined up at the docks behind us. He makes a quick sweep, as if he’s looking for one in particular. Believe me, kid, I’ve been waiting all day too.
Fletcher approaches, limping his way toward us. “He’s too fast for me.”
“Papa, you’re not that old. Dirt is old.”
He laughs. “Too old to be chasing a kid.” Fletcher side-glances me. “He asked to come see you.”
I wink down at him. “Wanna take a walk on the jetty with me while your papa has a drink?”
Fletcher chuckles. “You don’t have to do that, darlin’.”
I watch Atlas’s eyes light up. “I want to.”
I grab my jacket from the bar while Atlas tells Mal he met her daughter, and I can tell she secretly contemplates their future wedding. I can see it in her eyes. I take Atlas out to the same spot on the jetty I like to go when a storm’s coming in.
He sits on a rock, his furrowed expression on the water. “I bet my dad is that way.”
I follow the direction he’s pointing. North. “You think so?”
“Yep.” His voice never wavers. “Fishing is good out there.”
I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s right. I watch him, fascinated by his every mannerism from his lack of words, to the way he looks completely captivated by the waves hitting the rocks. He doesn’t turn toward the calmer side of the jetty; instead, he’s intent on walking on the wild side of it.
I sit next to him on the rock. “If you’re quiet, you can hear the whispers of the sea.”
“What’s she saying?” he whispers, his eyes on mine. They’re beautiful this close.
“Listen.”
With a furrowed brow of curiosity, he stares at the water, his hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie. He smiles, his cherry lips parting. “I think she’s saying drink some hot chocolate.”
“You know, that’s exactly what I was thinking.”
I think my life collided with not only Lincoln’s, but this little boy’s for a reason.
Carefully, trying to avoid the sharp edges of the rocks and the holes in