Chapter 9 One Drink
ONE DRINK
MADISON
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I high-tail it out of Hunter’s office. My nerves are shot, my heart pounding in my throat, my hands damp with sweat.
I walked in there with my stomach in knots, not knowing what to say.
My broken heart crumpled in my hands with one look at those pale blue eyes, how they swam with guilt and loneliness.
The pull was forceful. Magnetic. There was no stopping the fire burning between us.
The slow strokes of his thumb against my skin sent a current of electricity racing through me.
His scent—cedar and clean soap—engulfed me, wrapped around me, begging me to taste him.
Heat circled low in my stomach, burning me from the inside out.
I wanted to push him back, straddle him, and take what I needed. Take what he took from me.
For months, I’ve been this sad, empty shell of myself, and within twenty minutes of his presence, I feel more alive.
More me than ever before. And I hate that.
I hate how he has that kind of power over me.
I shouldn’t let a man make me feel so small.
So empty. But he did. Hunter made me feel like that, and that’s why this is so damn hard.
Because he’s the one person in this world who shouldn’t have.
He wants my forgiveness, but he’s going to have to wait for me.
Not to forgive him, but to find myself without him.
I need to be me without him before I can be me with him.
I push open the door that leads to the bar.
It’s Tuesday night—our quietest night—but that doesn’t make it any less alive.
The low hum of conversation mixes with the clink of glasses and the faint nineties music drifting from the jukebox.
A few locals play a game of pool at one of the three tables, their laughter echoing off the timber walls.
Most of our regulars are here—guys still in dusty boots, shirts rolled up, shoulders heavy from the day.
I spot Halle perched at the bar, elbow propped, eyes locked on Asher as he pours a round. Her lips move like she’s saying something to him, but when she catches sight of me, she spins her stool toward me, offering a weary smile. Asher no doubt told her who I’ve been with.
Before she can speak, I grab her hand. My grip tightens, desperate, as I tug her without a word. She stumbles after me, muttering my name, but I don’t stop. My pulse is so loud in my ears, echoing the slam of the bathroom door as I pull her inside.
“I know he’s your brother, and this is probably… weird, but I need my best friend right now,” I blurt, pacing back and forth. My fingers twist at the ends of my hair before I throw it over my shoulder. “I don’t know what to do. What to think. He… he just—”
Halle throws her hands out, grabbing my shoulders with a sly grin on her face.
“He just what?”
I groan, dropping my head for a second before throwing it back. “He just stood there, all tall and impossibly sexy, towering over me, burning me with those stupid blue eyes.”
“Burning you with his eyes?” Her brow lifts.
“You know exactly what I mean!” I spin on my heel, pacing again.
“Nope. Nope, I don’t.” She leans back on the bathroom counter, arms crossed.
“Oh, come on. Like Asher hasn’t done that smoldering, burning-eye thing on you before?
” I jab a finger into her chest. “You know the one I’m talking about.
The one where he usually carts you off somewhere to do God knows what with you, and he thinks he’s subtle, but he’s not.
Those damn burning eyes give him away every time. ” I exhale sharply.
Halle chuckles, her eyes lighting up. “Okay… so Hunter gave you the burning eyes. Please tell me he said sorry and explained himself, too.”
“Well, yeah, he said sorry, and I already know he’s sorry.
But we didn’t have time for him to explain himself, and now I have to go out there”—I gesture dramatically to the door—“and work a shift with him, with those eyes. Oh my god. How am I going to get through a whole shift with those eyes staring at me?”
“Take a deep breath, girl.” Halle waits, chest rising and falling, and I follow her lead, allowing the tight coil in me to loosen.
“Good. Now… what is it you want?”
I chew the inside of my cheek, my hands twisting together.
“I want… I want to know I can be Madison without him.” My voice trembles.
“I know he’s sorry. I’m okay being around him now.
The shock of him being back has worn off.
But I need to know why. I need to know that if—and when—we work our shit out, it’s on my terms, not his. ”
I glance at the floor. “All these years of waiting for him, sneaking late nights, it’s been on his terms, and I want—no, I need it to be on mine.”
Before I can get a chance to continue down my spiral, Halle hauls me into a hug that squeezes the breath right out of me, and for a second, I let myself melt into the comfort. When she finally pulls back, she tilts her head, eyes glinting.
“You know, I’m here for you, right? Whenever you need me. I’m in your corner, and I say hell yeah to making him wait. Give him hell, babe.”
A laugh slips out before I can stop it. “You’re going to enjoy this entirely too much, aren’t you?”
“Yup.” She pops the p at the end. “He deserves it, though.”
Her smirk fades as she looks at me. “But on a more serious note. You know he’s going to do everything in his power to win you back.” Her voice softens. “Are you ready for that?”
“No. Yes. No.” I twist the ends of my hair. “I guess we’ll find out. Come on.” I loop my arm through hers. “I can’t hide out here all night. I have a job to do, and you have a broody bartender to watch.”
“Actually, I think I’m going to head home. Hang out with Sarah and Remi for the night, keep them company, and catch up on everything. Asher can survive one night without me.”
I snort. “Yeah, right. You know he’s gonna be crawling into your bed when he finishes here.”
Her lips curve into a grin. “Well… I do love it when he crawls.”
“Halle!” I gasp, my jaw hitting the floor. “Where on earth has our timid girl gone?”
“Eh, what can I say? You and Asher are bad influences on me.”
Shaking my head, I push open the door. The warm amber light spills across the wooden floors, catching the reflection on the whiskey bottles lined up behind the bar.
The neon bar sign flickers above the booths, and the air carries the scent of fried food and beer.
A couple of locals sit at their usual booth near the jukebox, drumming their fingers to the old rock tune playing.
“You know,” I say, glancing around, “I kind of miss having you on shift with me around here.”
Halle scoffs. “No, you don’t. The number of times I forgot to get someone’s drink or couldn’t remember which booth I was taking the chicken wings to was infuriating for both of us.”
I bump my hip against hers, a smile tugging at my lips. “Maybe. But we also had some fun here. Even if it was for a short time.”
“Yeah, like that time we mixed the random leftovers from the pineapple juice carton with half a bottle of peach schnapps and whatever else we could find.”
“Yes! Oh my god, we thought it was going to taste disgusting, but Hank said he’d take one for the team and then shocked everyone by downing the whole thing.”
Halle snickers. “Still can’t believe we named it The Cove Disaster and put it on the menu permanently.”
“The locals love it. It’s summer in Sunlit Cove, disasters and all.”
“Ladies.”
Connor slides up beside us, twirling his bottle opener around his finger.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise, a shiver crawling down my spine.
I glance over my shoulder to find Hunter there, crouched by the fridge, restocking bottles.
His eyes are on me. Heat rises up my neck, and I quickly look away, but not before Connor catches where my attention went. His lips curl into a knowing smirk.
“You guys sort things out?” he asks.
“Nope. Not yet.”
“You gonna be okay, Madi girl?” he asks, genuine concern shining in his eyes.
“There’s progress,” I say with a small smile. “I no longer want to run away.”
“That’s our queen.”
“Queen?” My eyes widen. “Who the hell are you calling a queen?”
“Aw, come on. You know you’re our queen,” Connor laughs, slinging an arm over my shoulders and giving me a light squeeze.
“I’m gonna go say bye to Asher and head out,” Halle says, already backing away. “See you guys later.”
“Come on, let’s get this night over with,” I mutter to Connor as I wave to Halle.
The hours crawl by at a turtle’s pace—slow, relentless, drawn out.
Every time I pause for even a breath or a sip of water, I feel him.
Hunter’s gaze. He traces my every move from across the bar.
My skin prickles under it. His eyes narrow when I laugh at something someone says, when I lean too close to grab an order.
The tension in me is coiled so tight, I feel like I might combust.
“Another beer, Hank?” I ask, grabbing the empty glass from in front of him.
At this point, Hank’s practically part of the furniture.
He’s been coming in every night for the past three years, sits in the same spot, with the same quiet nod, and drinks the same four beers before heading home to an empty house.
His wife passed from cancer, and he’s never really come back from it.
My mom was her favorite nurse, and by the fourth beer, he likes to remind me of this.
I tilt the glass, letting the beer rise to the rim before sliding it over to him.
His calloused hand meets mine for just a second as he hands me the cash.
“Does he know he’s not very good at hiding it?” Hank asks, his gaze flicking toward Hunter before finding mine again.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” His mouth quirks.
He lifts his beer, tipping the glass toward me, taking a long sip. “You know your momma and my Katy got to be real good friends.”
My chest tightens. I always know it’s coming, but the ache never softens. The mention of Katy still pulls on my heart, but he likes to keep her memory alive, and I’ll never stop him. It feels like the least I can do.
“She once told Katy how much she wished you two would stop fighting it,” he says, eyes cutting briefly toward Hunter. “From where I’m sitting, it looks like he’s losing that fight finally.”
A nervous laugh escapes me as I wipe down the counter. “You know, one of these days, you and my mom should catch up. She would love that, you know. She misses Katy, too.”
He pauses, the faintest frown tugging at his lips. “Maybe one day. But not today.”
He taps the glass on the counter, sliding it back to me. “That’s me for tonight. You have a good night, Madison.”
He looks around the bar—his usual quiet scan of the place—then pulls his cap back on and heads for the door.
Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if I set it up—Mom and Hank meeting again.
Not in the hospital halls, or under the shadow of treatments, but somewhere normal.
I know Katy was his everything, but life can be lonely and way too short.
Maybe Katy loved my mom because she saw something in her.
Something that maybe Hank would one day need.
“You okay over here?”
His voice startles me from behind, and I nearly drop the glass I’m drying.
“Fine,” I manage, reaching for another glass just to have something to do, anything to keep my hands busy.
The air shifts when Hunter steps closer, warmth radiating off him.
It’s familiar—I can feel it against my back, crawling under my skin like old times.
I force myself to keep moving because I can’t get lost in what used to be our normal.
How I’d let him slide up behind me, his fingers grazing my waist, the soft brush of his breath at my ear.
The smallest of touches that would set my skin on fire.
Again and again until we flipped the sign to closed, until the music faded, and it was just us, standing there, with nothing but the built-up tension we always gave in to.
“Will you have a drink with me tonight?” he asks, his tone laced with desperation.
It’s something we used to do after every shift.
One drink to unwind, to let the night settle.
Sometimes Connor and Asher would hang around too, but when Hunter left, we couldn’t bring ourselves to keep it going.
It didn’t feel right to have that drink without him.
We kept the bar running, but something between the team fractured, and it was his disappearance.
The uncertainty of whether he’d ever walk back through those doors again.
I circle to the other side of the bar, collecting the empties and damp coasters as I go, tossing them into the trash.
His gaze trails me, warm and heavy on my skin, and a small smirk tugs at my lips.
I know I’m driving him insane right now.
Keeping quiet, saying no to the late-night drive, making him wait.
He’s doing all the right things, letting me steer the ship for once, giving me the space I asked for.
But I can’t help wondering how long it’ll last before he snaps.
How far will he go to prove himself? It’s kind of empowering after so many months of feeling small, invisible.
I feel it humming through me, the control.
I glance up. He’s standing there, towel in hand, polishing the beer taps, his jaw tight.
The light catches the edge of his sharp cheekbone, the curve of his mouth, and damn, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.
“One drink,” I say before I can chicken out.
His answering smile is slow and full of promise.
Yeah… this one drink is going to ruin me.