Chapter 6
Hunter
Weekly dinners at the Twilight Tavern were a ritual for me and my brothers. Comfort food, cold beer, and the exact same argument every week over who owed for the wings. But none of that was why I showed up tonight. This time, I was here for her.
I knew the signs with Paige. When she started deflecting, joking too much, brushing things off— it usually meant she was hurting. Quietly. She wouldn’t come to me. So I went to her.
The place buzzed with energy, a warm pulse that seemed to shimmer just beneath the laughter.
Twinkling strings of lights traced the beams overhead, casting a soft glow over everything.
The mismatched wooden tables, covered in ring marks from hundreds of glasses dripping with condensation from ice-cold beers, edges worn smooth by years of elbows, knowing glances, and secrets whispered between sips, everywhere, there was the hum of voices, the clatter of glasses, and the spark of a place everyone loved.
Tonight, it was packed. Local crowd, mostly. Paige’s regulars. Plus, a few tourists who’d wandered down from The Honeybrook. The kitchen was slammed. Two of the servers wove through the crowd with trays full of sliders and nachos, laughing and keeping pace with the rhythm of the bar.
Paige was behind the counter, pouring drinks and tossing sass like it was currency.
The words It’s five o’clock somewhere stretched across the chest of her snug long-sleeved T-shirt, and her hair was up in a high ponytail.
There was a smudge of something on her cheek that only made her look more gorgeous.
I couldn’t get her out of my head, but I was currently refusing to think about why.
She had gone from my best friend, Paige, to the most beautiful blonde bombshell I’d ever seen.
Objectively speaking, I’d always recognized she was pretty; it was evident to anyone with eyes.
But now she was hot. Big brown eyes, tall, curvy body…
Damn it. Stop.
I slid into the seat at my usual table with my brothers and scanned the room. The light flickered above us, and I scowled. It needed to be replaced, not repeatedly tinkered with. I wish she’d just let me buy her a new one.
Paige moved behind the bar, ponytail bouncing, sleeves shoved to her elbows, eyes sharper than any knife in the kitchen.
Every so often, she’d send a nod or a word toward her crew—quick, efficient, never lingering.
I liked watching her like this, running her kingdom, making the chaos look choreographed.
She hadn’t seen me yet, and I hadn’t gone to the bar to say hi since she was busy. Or maybe she had—because the second the waitress dropped off our beers, a couple of my former classmates made a beeline for our table, and she shot them a glare.
“Hunter Cassidy,” the blonde one—Ashley?—drawled, leaning a little too far into my space. “Haven’t seen you in ages. How’s life treating you?”
I smiled politely, leaning back enough to put an inch of space between us. “Busy. Working a lot.”
“That shop still keeping you tied down?” she asked, fingers brushing my arm. “Bet you don’t get much time for fun. You were always there back in school, right? Working for your dad?”
Deacon smirked behind his pint, enjoying the show way too much.
I answered with a noncommittal “something like that” and reached for a wing. She laughed and touched my shoulder this time.
Out of habit, my eyes drifted toward the bar—and found Paige watching. Or rather, glowering.
She was sliding a beer down the counter to a regular, but her eyes flicked back to me in between motions. Her mouth was set in a tight, annoyed line, and she quickly turned to refill a pitcher, like I hadn’t caught her looking.
“Not tonight, yeah?” I said gently. “Brother night.”
“Gotcha,” she said, excusing herself with a grin. “Maybe another time?”
I nodded. “Sure. See you around.”
Brody leaned in, low enough that only I could hear. “You seeing this? Pretty sure your bartender’s about to follow her and break her hand off for touching you.”
“She’s not my bartender,” I said, but the corner of my mouth betrayed me as it twitched up in a satisfied grin.
Deacon chuckled. “Not yet.”
I ignored them both and caught Paige’s gaze again, just for a second, before she looked down, busying herself with wiping down the bar that, from my vantage point, looked already clean.
Yeah. She’d noticed, and she didn’t like it.
Clearly, she was jealous—and I loved it.
But at the same time, I wanted to reassure her that she was all I was thinking about, that I only had eyes for her.
But I couldn’t do that yet. I didn’t want to risk scaring her off or putting pressure on whatever was happening between us.
There was something else going on, though.
Underneath the sound of laughter and clinking glasses, there was tension brewing—a charge that made the hair on my arms stand up.
Paige was moving a little too fast, her smile a little too thin.
When she caught my gaze again, she held it for a second longer than usual, just long enough that my chest tightened.
It was more than her potential jealousy. She was stressed out; something was going on that I didn’t know about—yet.
That was when I noticed her sisters at the bar.
Piper raised her glass to me in a silent toast, Lucy gave a tiny wave, then blew a kiss to Spencer, and Eliza pretended not to notice me at all, probably feeling guilty for spreading the muffin gossip.
Cara, who usually kept to herself, was talking to Jasper, the new bartender, and the way she tucked her hair behind her ear made me wonder if something was going on between the two of them.
The air felt heavy with anticipation, as if everyone was waiting for something to tip the balance.
“She’s about to snap,” Spencer said from beside me, sipping his beer. “It’s gonna be epic and most likely horrifying. Lucy is worried, but she won’t say why. It’s personal business. Probably about her shithead ex.”
“She’ll be fine,” I said, but I didn’t take my eyes off her. No matter what happened, I would make sure she came out of it as unscathed as possible. I would throw myself in front of a train for her if it would spare her any pain.
“She’s got the same look my ex used to get before she cussed out the vacuum cleaner,” Tucker observed. “Stressed the hell out.”
He had a point. She was on edge tonight.
At the bar, her sisters were pretending it was “Sister Night.” But anyone could see they were watching her like hawks. Protective. Waiting. Ready to pounce if needed.
Paige waved to one of the servers at the tap and hollered, “Table six needs another round and a reminder that flirting doesn’t get them a discount.”
She snorted. “Already handled it.”
Then the door opened, Eli walked in, and Paige froze in her tracks.
He had that same too-clean, too-confident vibe he always did. Button-down crisp, hair freshly trimmed, and wearing a smile like he’d practiced it on the way over.
Eli swaggered to the bar like he owned the place—like he still had any right to be near her. I felt a hot spike of disgust before I even heard him speak. “Paige,” he said. “Hey. Got a minute?”
Her indifference hit him harder than any insult. “No”. Not a “maybe later,” not a “go away”—just a flat, cold no.
I saw her hands clench tight around that bar rag, like she was trying not to shatter right there in front of everyone. I wanted to reach out and tear Eli’s smug grin off his face.
The room held its breath. Piper’s sharp look at Paige was almost like a warning. Or maybe a shield. I wasn’t sure what Eli thought. Maybe he still thought he had some claim to her. God, how wrong he was.
Paige’s voice barely broke the silence: “What do you want, Eli?”
I felt my jaw tighten. That name on her lips was bitter and broken. Eli shifted uncomfortably, looking at the floor like the arrogance was slipping away. Good. He deserved to feel small.
“Can we talk? Just for a second.”
Her jaw clenched harder. She was steel, but I could see the wear beneath the surface, the way she was holding herself together just enough not to fall apart.
“Make it fast,” she said, voice brittle as cracked glass.
Eli hesitated. And that hesitation was all Piper needed to stand.
The atmosphere thickened, and I knew every sister there was ready to defend Paige, while I was ready to end him.
Fury radiated through me like a god damn furnace.
I ground my teeth together, trying to cool off.
I knew she could handle herself, and I had to let her do it.
Paige didn’t flinch, but I could see the storm in her eyes, that wild flash of fear and fury barely contained. Piper shifted closer, shoulders squared, letting Eli know—without words—that his time was running out. The whole bar felt it, the way loyalty can turn sharp and dangerous in an instant.
Eli opened his mouth to say something, but Paige didn’t give him the chance. She tossed her towel on the bar and turned sharply.
“Not here.”
Every step she took toward the kitchen was deliberate. I could feel the tension rippling off her, daring him to follow, daring him to try.
He lingered a moment, maybe weighing his chances, but then hurried after her. I wanted to yell at him to stay away, that he didn’t deserve her, never had, never would.
As they disappeared through the kitchen door, the room exhaled, and Piper gave the nod. Sisters rising, ready for whatever storm Eli thought he could bring.
I stayed rooted to the spot, fury simmering under my skin. Because he’d broken her heart once, and if he thought he could do it again without consequence, he was dead wrong.
“It’ll only take a second.” Eli tossed over his shoulder. But they didn’t care what he had to say; they followed anyway.
“Dude is definitely not scared enough.” Deacon shook his head. “I never liked that prick.”
Spencer stood. “Back door?”