Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
HOLLIS
I watch Presley from across the bar, laughing as she hands a drink to a guy in a pirate costume.
He takes it and then leans over to hand her a twenty.
As she takes it, he says something that makes her brow rise.
She shakes her head and then flashes her left hand, that new diamond ring sparkling under the lights.
I knew it was the right one the moment the salesclerk pulled it out. Seeing it on her finger, though? Fucking perfection.
I finish mixing my rum and Coke, smiling as I see the disappointment on the guy’s face. He says something else, and Pres turns, points at me, and waves.
I wave back, and his face turns pale.
By the time I serve my customer, ring her up, and make my way over to my wife, the guy is already long gone.
“What was that all about?” I ask.
“Oh, he hit me with the good old, ‘Are you a witch? ’Cause you just put a spell on me.’”
“You have to hand it to him. It’s a classic.”
Pres and I get hit on at the bar almost every night. It’s an unfortunate part of the job. If I got jealous and broody over every guy who hit on her, we wouldn’t be able to work together. Plus, I know she can handle herself, and if she’s ever in a situation where she can’t, I’m right here.
“Yeah, so I flashed my sparkles and told him I was married, and then he had the audacity to say, ‘It’s Halloween. Want to pretend you’re not for a night?’”
“Bold.”
“That’s when I motioned to my very hot husband and said, ‘No thanks.’”
I grab a pint glass and walk over to the bar tap. “So you’re saying he was intimidated by my hotness?”
She shrugs. “You do look very hot. And intimidating.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Well, I am a vampire.”
“You guys are cute,” a woman at the bar says. She’s dressed as a mermaid with an iridescent shell bra and a bright red wig. Maybe Ariel? I don’t know. I didn’t exactly watch many Disney movies growing up. “How long have you been married?”
“Just a few months,” Presley answers with a shy smile. She eyes her engagement ring, and I practically beam with pride.
When I woke up this morning, I had no intention of proposing today. But after breakfast, while rearranging some of my things in the apartment, I found our marriage license.
It made me think of the day we told her parents we got married. They were so happy, yet a part of them was devastated that they missed the wedding.
They weren’t the only ones. We missed it too.
I want more than blurry tequila memories for my bride. I want photos on the wall that we can show our kids someday. I want to write vows I can recite to her year after year on our anniversary. And I want her to know that I would choose her again and again.
“Hey, Hollis!” Mel hollers over her shoulder as she pours a line of shots. “Can you grab some more triple sec from the back? I’m out over here.”
I give Pres a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be right back.”
I head to the stockroom and enter the code on the new lock Pres installed. While we trust all of our current employees a hell of a lot more than Jace, Pres and I are the only ones allowed in here.
It reduces risk and Presley’s stress level, which is always a win in my book.
It takes me less than a minute to grab a bottle of triple sec and head back to the bar. But as I turn the corner of the hallway, I stop dead in my tracks. Sitting toward the end of the bar with a familiar-looking brunette is my former best friend, Hendrix Creed.
He’s wearing teal blue scrubs that seem almost too small for his large frame. His head is tilted back in laughter as Pres works behind the bar, pouring him a pint while she talks.
He looks so different.
I knew he would. I’ve seen his face everywhere—at Velvet that night, in pictures at Presley’s apartment, and even in the damn grocery store aisle. But seeing him in person is a whole other experience.
As a kid, I thought he was destined for the stage. He just had a quality that made people sit up and notice him.
Now, there’s no questioning it.
Hendrix Creed is a honest-to-god rock star. And he’s about to find out I married his sister.
I stand there, sort of frozen.
What the fuck do I do?
We hadn’t exactly planned this part out. Pres was nervous about telling him, so she was kind of hoping the element of surprise would do most of the work for us.
But now I’m standing back here, and they’re…there.
Pres turns to grab a bottle of wine and catches my gaze. Her eyes grow wide, giving me that look that says, Get your ass over here, then turns back to her brother without even missing a beat.
I take a step back toward the bar, but stop myself.
Hendrix is now my brother-in-law. I shouldn’t greet him for the first time in twelve years like a stranger behind the bar. I should greet him like a friend.
So I step into the crowd instead.
Creeds is packed tonight, which is good for us, but bad when you’re trying to get from one end to the other.
It takes a little while. I have to sidestep a Barbie, give directions to the bathroom to a gruesome-looking chef, and endure a chorus of wolf whistles from a group of women in the corner who probably need to be cut off.
Finally, I make it to the other side. I step up to Zara and Hendrix just as I hear him say to her, “What the fuck is that?”
Presley nervously licks her lips. “Oh! That’s the surprise I wanted to tell you about. I got married!”
Zara and Hendrix look at each other. Hendrix turns back to his sister. “To who? If you say Jace, I swear to God…”
My wife looks up, eyes pleading. Time to intervene.
“Hey, Hendrix.”
He whips around in his seat and looks me up and down as if he doesn’t quite believe what he’s seeing—or who.
“You remember Hollis, right?” Pres says, behind him.
His eyes narrow on my left hand before turning back to his sister. “What do you mean, do I remember Hollis? Are you asking if I remember my best friend? Of course, I do. What I don’t remember is being invited to your goddamn wedding. What the fuck, Pres?”
“Hen…” Zara places a hand on his thigh.
“I wanted to tell you in person.” Pres’s eyes start to water.
“I’ve been home for a month!” He fumes.
“That’s enough.” I step forward, my voice calm. “You got something to say, Hen? You say it to me. But you will not raise your voice to my wife.”
Hen looks momentarily stunned, but says, “Fine. Let’s go talk.”
Zara and Pres exchange worried glances, concern etched on both their faces.
“You okay if I step away for a bit?” I ask her. She quickly nods. “I’ll be in the stockroom if you need anything.”
“Okay.”
Hendrix hops off his stool as I step up to the bar, leaning over so only Pres can hear me. “It’s gonna be okay, remember?”
She nods again. “Don’t beat up my brother. He looks scary, but he’s really just a softie.”
I choke out a laugh. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“I love you.”
Her expression softens. “I love you too.”
I turn to see Hendrix watching us. When his gaze meets mine, he turns and slips into the crowd without saying a word.
That’s fine. He can find the stockroom himself. It’s not like he doesn’t know where it is.
Once again, it takes a while to reach the other side of the bar. Luckily, there’s no catcalling this time, but I still need to point out the bathroom again. I also see more than my fair share of weird costumes.
I don’t know how Hendrix manages to avoid being recognized.
Or how he beats me.
“It’s the costume,” he says with a shrug when I give him a quizzical look, stopping in front of the stockroom door.
He’s leaning against it as if he’s been standing there for ages.
His sandy-brown hair is buzzed short on the sides and longer on top.
The scrubs do little to conceal all his ink, including the signature Creed tattoo on his inner forearm.
“No one expects to see me in scrubs. I’m honestly thinking about buying them in bulk and just wearing them to the grocery store. Maybe on our next date.”
“Sure. ’Cause plenty of doctors go to the movies straight from the OR.”
“I would. These things are hella comfortable.”
I step up to the stockroom door and punch in the keypad. He watches in silence. “This is new.”
I slowly swallow. “A lot of things around here are new.”
“I can see that.”
I guess joke time is over. “Come on.” I push the door open. “It’s quiet in here. We can talk.”
He follows me inside and looks around. Pres has done a decent job replenishing the supply since Jace emptied her out, but it still looks sparse compared to what it used to be.
But I doubt Hendrix ever came in here enough to notice.
Besides, he’s got other things on his mind.
“So how long have you two been lying to me?”
“Hendrix, it’s not—”
He holds up a hand. “Hollis, I just found out my sister got married. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m really glad it’s you and not that other guy. But I’m just trying to figure out why she didn’t tell me. So maybe you start from the beginning, yeah?”
At one point in my life, I would have placed my loyalty to Hendrix above everything else. After all, he saved me.
From those assholes in that school hallway. From my mom.
He gave me a family, and for that, I would have done anything for him.
But the moment I woke up with that wedding ring on my finger, my priorities shifted.
My world shifted.
And now, Presley is my world.
I won’t jeopardize that.
“I don’t know what to tell you.” I shrug, shoving my hands in my pockets, and sticking with the story we tell everyone. That’s all he’ll get from me. I won’t betray my wife’s trust. “We started talking after I called her that night she was at your parents’, and we just fell for each other.”
Leaning against one of the shelves, he asks, “And Jace?” He doesn’t know about Jace? Man, he really is out of the loop.
“Dumped him a while ago.”
“Thank fuck. That guy is…” He shakes his head.
“In jail,” I finish, figuring I can at least share that bit of information for his peace of mind.
“Seriously?”