3. Addie
Chapter 3
Addie
W e step into Lumberjax, and the sounds of laughter and axes thwacking into wood greet us.
I’ve never been a big fan of drinking until I can’t remember what the fuck I’ve done, but tonight, I’m going to forget about the fact that my two best friends are happily in love and that they have their lives figured out, while I feel like I’m perpetually spinning out of control.
Thrash waves at a group of people near the back. He grabs my hand, and I nearly stop in my tracks at the contact. His hand is so much bigger than mine, and so, so warm. I don’t want to make things weird by pulling my hand away though, especially after I already made things awkward at the shop earlier. So, I let him lead me through the crowd.
He greets his friend Dean and Aria from the bakery next to the shop, and some of his clients, who all seem really nice.
“I’m gonna grab a shot,” I say, dropping his hand.
I head over to the bar where Silas is mixing up drinks.
“Addie,” he says with a grin. “Didn’t know you’d be here tonight. Mari didn’t mention it.”
“It was a last-minute decision,” I say, even though it really wasn’t.
“What can I get you?”
“Tequila.”
“Coming right up,” he says, turning his back to me and pulling out a bottle. He pours it into a shot glass before sliding it over the counter along with a shaker of salt and a lemon wedge.
I’m aware of Thrash’s presence before I see him. He reaches around me to throw down some money on the bar.
“It’s on the house,” Silas says pushing the money back. “Addie’s family.”
Those words hit me like a punch to the gut. Family . It’s a concept I’ve never truly known or understood, bounced from one foster home to another until I landed in the last one here in Honey Valley. Hearing Silas say it so casually, as if it’s a given, tugs at something deep within me.
Damn. A family is all I think I’ve ever really wanted.
Noah nudges me gently, concern etched on his face. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low.
“Yep, let’s go throw some axes,” I say and down the shot without the salt or lemon. It burns my throat, but I motion for another one before we make our way to the axe-throwing area, where targets line the far wall. I down this other shot, the burn of the alcohol a welcome distraction from my thoughts. As I watch Thrash take his first throw, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt, a wild idea takes root in my mind.
Unfortunately, I’m not drunk enough yet to make the proposal. Would he even go for something so insane?
“You know,” I say, turning to him with a smirk as I pick up an axe. “I hope you know I’m going to kick your ass.”
Noah raises an eyebrow, a challenge in his eyes. “Oh, you think so?”
“I don’t think. I know,” I say, stepping up to the line, squaring my shoulders. “I’m a fucking natural at this shit. Gotta keep up on my skills for when the zombies rise up.”
Noah chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright. Let loose then. Show me what you got.”
I take aim, focusing on the target. With a deep breath, I hurl the axe, watching as it spins through the air and embeds itself in the outer ring. Not bad for a first try, especially when I’m already starting to feel the shots I’ve taken.
“Nice throw,” Noah says, nodding approvingly. “But you’d still be the first to die in a zombie apocalypse, just so you know.”
I gasp in mock outrage. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know I’d make it to the end. I’m a survivor.”
Noah grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Please, everyone knows the hot one dies first.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks at his words. “Quit lying,” I mumble, ducking my head to hide my blush.
“I’m not,” Noah says, his voice sincere. He steps up to the line, axe in hand. With a fluid motion, he tosses it, the blade sinking dead center into the bullseye.
I stare at him, my mouth agape. “How did you...”
Noah shrugs, a cocky smile playing on his lips. “Every boy growing up out in the woods has thrown more axes at shit than he can count... But also, I’m not trying to die in the first act.”
He squeezes past me, his scent wrapping around me. My heart races as his arm brushes against mine, reaching for another axe. The tequila buzzes through my system, making everything feel softer, warmer.
I want him so badly right now, and I’m afraid if I stay near him, I’ll do something stupid like confess my feelings. Tequila has a way of loosening my tongue.
“Your turn.”
“I think I need another drink first.”
I turn toward the bar, but his hand catches my wrist. “Wait.”
He tugs gently on my wrist until I face him, his concern evident in the crease between his brows. “I’m fine,” I say, waving him off.
“You need to slow down.” He blocks my path to the bar. “Getting hammered is one thing,” he says as I try to sidestep him, but he mirrors my movement. “Dead from alcohol poisoning is another thing entirely.” His voice drops lower, serious.
“I seem to recall being up front with my plans tonight,” I say, patting his chest. “In fact, I think you should have a shot with me.”
“And then how will I get you home safely, hm? If I’m too drunk to drive, then what?”
“You’re relieved of your designated driver duties. I’ll either grab a room at the hotel down the street or get one of the girls to take me home.” The room spins a little as I gesture toward Janie and Mari who are sitting at a table across the way, chatting and looking lovely. “Now, let me get you a shot. You’re way too sober.”
Noah runs a hand through his hair, conflict clear on his face. “And how will I get home?” he asks with a chuckle.
“Uber?”
“Yeah, right. How many Uber drivers do you think are willing to drive me clear out the holler I live in?” The Appalachian twang in that word makes me smile. He so rarely has it, but somehow he can never say the word hollow.
“You could also get a room at the hotel… Please?” I give him my best puppy-dog eyes. “Just have one shot with me.”
He sighs, shoulders dropping in defeat. “Fine. One shot. But promise me you’ll drink some water too.”
“Cross my heart.” I make an X over my chest, stumbling slightly.
“Fuck just water. You need food, too. Got it?”
As Noah steadies me with a hand on my elbow, reality hits me like a bucket of cold water. If I survive this night without making a complete fool of myself or saying something I can’t take back, I need to get my shit together.
These feelings, the jealousy, the loneliness… This whole mess inside my head… I need to deal with it like an adult instead of drowning it in tequila.
Tomorrow, it’s time to pull up my big girl panties and get over this bullshit.
Tonight, though?
Well, that remains to be seen.