7. I’m sorry
7
I’M SORRY
HALLE
I pull at the tight black Whiskey Cove shirt, trying to feel comfortable in it, but have no luck. It’s a size too small around my chest and rides up a little, exposing a sliver of pale skin above my denim shorts. I didn’t have the heart to tell Hunter, not wanting him to feel like he has to go out of his way for me more than he already has and find me another shirt.
Standing in the bar down the far end with the pool tables in front of me, I start cutting the fresh lemons and limes Hunter instructed me to do earlier. He told me we prep the bar every night an hour before we open, so that’s what I’ve been doing, helping him prep. If I turn to look down the other side of the bar, I would see the booths that line that far wall, dark wooden tables with worn leather seating. This place is really cool, and I have to give it to Hunter because what he’s done here is incredible.
Popping down, I open the fridge and start stacking the containers of lemon and lime, ready for the night ahead. The cool air from the fridge is welcoming with how stuffy the summer air is tonight, and my nerves about being here are likely not helping either. I’ve never worked in a bar or anything like it before. I have no idea what to expect or what to do, and I worry that I’m going to just be in the way. You can never do anything right, Halle . Words shouted at me in the past whisper in the back of my mind. Always there, reminding me of how useless I am.
When Hunter showed me around and pointed out where to find everything earlier, I told him that I had no clue what I was doing. The only job I’ve ever had was at the craft store. He stared at me for a beat and then asked, “Why the craft store?” It was in that moment that we both realized we’d missed too much. Sadness crept its way through me. Hunter had no idea how much art had become my escape, a lifeline I clung to when everything else was just too much, too hard. The gap between us felt strained, and I wanted to talk to him about Mom, ask him why he left and never came back for me, but my throat closed up, and I froze. I couldn’t get the words out. Maybe we could just get by without talking about anything. It’s not like my feelings matter.
I start cutting the strawberries when I hear the clink of glasses being moved behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Asher stacking trays of them together next to the ice. A wave of self-consciousness washes over me, and I tug at my shirt again, lowering my head and hoping he won’t approach me.
Hunter and I drove here tonight, but I insisted on being the one to drive. I haven’t driven my car all week, and I know if I don’t at least once a week, she’ll stop working on me, and that’s something that can’t happen. A risk I can’t afford. I’ll need my car if this fails. If Hunter ends up kicking me out, I’ll be back to square one. I’ll have to start all over again.
When we pulled into the staff parking lot behind the bar, I noticed Asher’s truck already there, and I inwardly sighed. I was hoping to avoid him at all costs for as long as I could after this morning’s encounter. I still can’t believe I lost my cool and practically drooled over him in front of everyone. What is wrong with me?
After finishing with the fruit stock, I move on to restocking the bar’s holders with straws and coasters. I round the corner to start working on the tables scattered on the floor when I hear someone come through the front entrance.
Madison walks in, and I notice she has a Whiskey Cove work shirt on just like mine. Relief floods through me, and the tension in my shoulders eases. Having Madison here tonight will help. Her presence is comforting, and I can’t help but feel like we’ve been friends forever.
“Hey, Halle.” She smiles at me and hands me something rolled up.
Confused, I unroll it to see that it’s a work shirt a size bigger.
“Ah, thanks.” I hold the shirt up in front of us.
How did she know I needed a bigger shirt? Hunter must have told her, or maybe she knows that he’s useless and just came prepared.
“Don’t thank me, Hals, thank Asher. He texted me asking to bring another shirt for you.”
Wait, what? Asher texted her. How did he know? I didn’t say anything. My eyebrows pinch together as I stare at the shirt in my hand, even more confused now.
“How did he know I needed a bigger shirt? I haven’t even spoken to him,” I ask in disbelief. There’s no way he could have known.
“Asher’s very observant, Halle. He’s not loud like Con or in your business like Hunter, but he’s always there and just knows,” she explains and starts toward the back door .
“He said in his text that you seemed uncomfortable in the shirt Hunter gave you. He didn’t make a big deal of it, Halle, but that’s just him. He sees the things the rest of us miss.” She glances back at me with a knowing smile before disappearing through the door.
Staring at the shirt in my hands, I shake my head in confusion. I thought I had Asher figured out. Sure, we haven’t talked all that much, and the times we have, it’s been demands and harsh words full of assumptions. He’s been a total jerk to me. Mr. Angry at all times, who wants nothing more than to see me leave town… until last night. Something shifted in that park. Like the summer wind blew our hostility away. I’m beginning to wonder if Asher being angry toward me all the time is just a front for whatever lies underneath. Balling up the shirt, I disappear to the bathroom to change.
The bar is packed, and there are people everywhere. Loud laughter and hollars carry over from the pool tables. The booths are full, with everyone taking shots, and the music is booming. The glow of the neon bar sign flickers. It’s hot in here. I grab the basket of chicken wings and take them to the booth in the section Hunter left me to look after tonight. I stressed once again to him before we opened that I had zero experience behind a bar, so he gave me a section. Look after this part of the bar, clear the dirty glasses, run the food, and make sure everyone stays happy. I nodded at him like I could do exactly that. How hard could it really be?
“Halle, oh my god! You’re here. Halle, hi.” I drop the basket on the table to see Tessa leaning over some guy, smiling widely at me.
There are empty shot glasses in front of her, and her beer is half-empty. Oh boy, she must be pretty gone. She’s wearing a purple sundress, and her hair’s tied up in a high ponytail. She looks stunning.
“Tessa, hey.” I give her a small wave and tuck my hair behind my ear.
Before I can escape and get back, she grabs everyone’s attention in the booth, throwing her arms out wide as she announces, “Hey everyone, meet Halle. She’s Hunter’s little sister, so be nice, okay?”
There are five other people in the booth with her, two girls and three guys, and she points at each person, adding, “She’s my friend, not yours,” and pokes her tongue out at them.
Ok, wow, she must be pretty drunk. I chuckle softly along with everyone else. They all smile at me and go straight back to their conversations.
The guy Tessa was leaning over pulls the beer away from her and hands it to me. “I think you’ve had enough to drink for tonight, Tess. Let’s switch it back to water.”
He leans back into his seat and watches her like he’s memorizing everything she does.
“I’ll go get her some water,” I tell him and grab the empty shot glasses from the table.
“Hey, Halle, right?” he asks me, his voice deep, and I nod.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jace, a friend of your brother’s.” He extends his hand, and I shake it, taken aback by how firm his grip is, his calloused palm rough against my soft skin. Jace is handsome in a way, with his deep brown eyes and stubble lining his square jaw, which gives him a rugged look.
“I’ll be back.” I smile and walk off.
In the short time I’ve been at Tessa’s booth, the bar has become busier. Scanning the crowd, I can’t help but take in the lively energy of this place. Everyone is having fun. There’s so much laughter in the air, it reminds me of the arcade we always went to as kids. Everyone was always so happy there, too. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt that sort of happiness or laughed as hard as some of these people are right now. What it would feel like to be so carefree, to feel so included in a group of friends that feel like family. My chest tightens at the thought, and my eyes start to sting with the weight of knowing I’ll never feel that. I’ll forever be on the outside looking in.
Weaving my way through the crowds of people, I tighten my hold on the tray of shot glasses I’m carrying, afraid I’ll drop them and they’ll smash everywhere. My skin pricks, the hairs on my arms rise, and something pulls at my awareness. I look up to see Asher watching me, his gaze so piercing it sends a shiver down my spine.
Behind the bar, Madison is pouring a line of shots. Her long blonde hair is tied up in a messy bun, the strands at the nape of her neck sticking with how muggy it is in here. Connor is down the far end, stocking the fridges with more spirits, but it’s Asher who grabs my attention and pulls me in. My eyes roam over him as he lifts the white bucket full of ice, his simple black Whiskey Cove shirt strains against his biceps as he fills the ice bins in front of him. His forearms, corded with veins, stand out against his tanned skin. His dark curls fall across his forehead, and the black jeans he’s wearing mold to his muscled thighs. There’s a focus to his movements that makes it hard to look away.
Madison spins after serving the group of guys in front of her shots and looks at me, her eyes lighting up with amusement when she follows my line of sight and catches me staring at Asher.
“No way,” she squeals and claps her hands together .
My eyes widen, and heat creeps up my neck. I glance away quickly, but Madison’s knowing smirk grows wider. She’s full-on smiling at me now, and my heart skips a beat as I fumble for something to say.
“Please don’t,” I stammer as I try to find something else to talk about so she doesn’t ask questions.
“Oh my god, that explains the text earlier and the shirt,” she says.
“No… No, it doesn’t,” I whisper-yell back.
I grab her by the arm and pull her further away from everyone else. “Seriously, it’s nothing. He’s always angry and mean to me, anyway. He’s made it very clear that he doesn’t even want me here. God, he’d probably throw a party if I were to leave town.”
“You’re kidding right, Halle?” She’s staring at me like I’ve lost my mind, and I’m beginning to wonder if I have. Twice in one day, I’ve been caught checking Asher out.
“Asher doesn’t want you to leave town. He’s just really protective of your brother. They have this weird, inseparable bromance thing going on, and you being here is probably making him feel like Hunter’s going to pick you over him from now on.”
A bromance… What the hell? So, poor Asher is being territorial. Why does that give him the right to be an asshole to me? There’s no way that’s it. I raise an eyebrow at her in disbelief.
All of a sudden, music starts blasting from the jukebox in the corner of the bar, and excited screams erupt in the air as my heart rate kicks up. The noise starts to go through me; the clanging of glasses and chaotic conversations I can hear over the top of one another makes it hard to focus.
“I have to go serve these guys, but we’re not done here, Hals. I think we’re long overdue for a girls’ day.” Madison breaks through my thoughts, her voice pulling me back to the present before I can spiral too far.
Hunter comes up beside me just as Madison leaves, handing me a glass of water, and I look at it questionably. Do I look thirsty?
“For Tessa. I just walked by Jace, and he said you were getting her water.”
Shit, that’s right—I completely forgot about Tessa’s water. I take the glass from Hunter, feeling guilty.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry Hunter,” I rush out and scan the booths to make sure Tessa is still there.
“Alright, Halle. Don’t stress over it,” Hunter reassures me, but my cheeks start to burn with the feeling of failure. All because of getting so caught up with Madison… and Asher.
My heart starts to race with the beginnings of my anxiety, and I take a few steadying breaths.
I drop the water off to Tessa and continue clearing the tables in my section. Things are starting to get rowdy in here, and my arms are beginning to ache from carrying all the glasses. The floors are becoming sticky with spilled drinks, and my feet throb as I try to keep up with the night. Just as I reach the side of the bar to unload the glasses, someone knocks into me from behind, and I lurch forward, scrambling to keep the tray steady, but I fail. Time seems to slow as I watch everything fall to the ground with a deafening crash. I stare down at the shattered glass, and my heart sinks. My palms become clammy, and without thinking, I bend down to start picking up the big pieces of glass.
“Halle, Jesus, are you okay?” Hunter comes rushing to my side.
“I’m fine, Hunter. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I look at him with pleading eyes .
“Halle, you’re fucking useless.”
“What the fuck have you done?”
“Go away, you’re just in the way.”
I wait for Hunter to yell at me, to scold me, and tell me to fuck off, but he doesn’t do any of that. His brows furrow, and he looks at me a little concerned.
“Why do you keep saying sorry, Hals?”
“What do you mean why do I keep saying sorry? Look at what I did, Hunter. I fucked up. Twice now I’ve fucked up. I told you I couldn’t do this. I told you…” My breathing starts to come in quick and shallow.
The noise, the mess, the chatter, and everyone staring at me makes it hard to think. My vision starts to blur at the edges, and the room starts caving in on me. I can’t get enough air in, and I look to Hunter for help. My throat starts closing in, and I can’t seem to get any words out.
I try to stand, but my legs feel weak underneath me, and a numbness starts to creep its way down my arms to my fingertips. Just as I’m about to collapse, firm hands grab my shoulders and squeeze, steadying me. Looking up, I stare into those vividly green eyes, his earthy scent grounding me and pulling me back in. Asher.
“Outside, let’s go.”