A Toast to the Good Times - By Liz Reinhardt Page 0,43
you’ve ever seen me as anything else were when you were so drunk it was just crazy and when your brother showed some interest.”
I shake my head, filled with frustration and the need to come up with the right words, fast, before I blow it for good.
“No, not true. Not true, Mila. This isn’t some stupid competition or some one-night stand kind of thing. I like you. I really like you. Everything about you. All the time.”
She presses her hands to her temples.
“How can this be exactly what I wanted to hear the most and everything I was afraid of at the same time?” When she glances back at me, her eyes are teary. “Don’t hate me for saying this, but I don’t think you know what you want. I think you like me because I’m convenient, and it makes no sense that I’m babbling about this because I’m the one who came to see you. I came to see you. But that’s just it, isn’t it?”
I press close to her, but she wiggles back. “What? What’s just it, Mila?”
“You’re opportunistic with girls, Landry,” she says, her eyes shifting back and forth like she’s confessing on a witness stand. “You like whoever’s in front of you at the moment. If one of your old girlfriends had shown up a minute before me, you probably would have asked her out, right?”
My ears burn and I grit my teeth. Mila’s features goes slack like she knows, like she can decode it all based on the look on my face. I feel guilt about Toni tangled with a need to explain before this gets more out of control.
“I did meet up with someone, but it wasn’t exactly like that—”
“It’s okay!” she yelps, backing away from me. “It’s so okay. This is my fault, Landry, not yours. It’s weird what six hours of back-to-back Hollywood romance can do to a sane person’s brain. I’m so, so sorry for crashing your holiday and making everything a huge mess. I feel like such a crazy, stupid idiot. I really do. I’ll leave tonight.”
“Don’t be insane. You’re not going anywhere.” I put my arms around her, softly, gently, so I don’t spook her, and that’s how Paisley finds us.
“Um, sorry.” My sister half backs up the stairs. “Sorry, guys, to, um, interrupt.” Mila’s already jumped out of my arms and is pressing her hands on the sides of her bright pink cheeks. “Dad called, Landry. The bar is getting slammed. Like, super slammed. He could use your help if it wouldn’t kill you.”
Part of me hates thinking about stepping back in that bar and working under my dad. But a huge part of me knows I owe him, owe myself to bridge this gap and grow the hell up. It’s time to finally face what I’ve spent so many months running from, but I’m not prepared to do it on my own.
Or maybe that’s the wrong way to put it.
I could face it on my own if I had to. But if I had a choice, I’d want Mila by my side.
“Come with me,” I beg Mila, because I’m not above making an ass of myself to try to keep her around. “Please. Come with me? Free drinks all night, on the house.”
“The bar is open on Christmas Eve?” A tiny smile quirks on her lips. “At least I know where you get your crazy holiday hour ideas from.”
“It’s a huge night for college kids, back home and looking for a drink to help them deal with being under their parents’ roofs again,” I tell her. “Will you come?”
For a few seconds I have no idea what her answer will be, but when she nods, relief flashes through me, hot and quick.
“You guys better head out. Dad was a little frantic when he called,” Paisley calls as she runs back up the stairs.
Chapter 11
I keep my mouth shut while Mila drives to my father’s bar for the second time tonight. I direct her to the employee parking lot out back, because the street has filled with cars now that everyone is home from work and school, ready to get a drink and kick back with some friends.
I think about the fact that my dad’s bar, one of the most popular places in town for all the young people to flock to when they want to run away from their family, was, and is the place where I can’t escape mine.