Page 63 of Angels & Whiskey

One thing was certain.

Autumn wasn’t the weak person I thought she was when I’d first met her.

I’d like to think it was because of me—that I was her savior which made her stronger. But for that to happen, she needed to have the strength within her the entire time.

Checking my back office, I didn’t have a date until the following Saturday. I was okay with that. I didn’t need the money—I had enough saved from the past three years.

During the week leading up to my next date, Jackson and I met Autumn at the gym and then went to Starbucks. I wanted to go to the range and teach her how to shoot, but she needed to figure out how to go without her husband finding out.

Everything was platonic between us, but I’m not gonna lie, I watched her ass while she ran every single day. I’d watch her breasts bounce through the reflection of the mirror as we both ran side by side. And I’d watch her stretch. God—watching her stretch put thoughts in my head that I’d dream about. No joke. Each night, I dreamt about us together in bed.

And when I saw her at the bar, a few weeks back, I knew there was no getting her out of my system. After almost five years of drowning myself nightly with at least a half a bottle of whiskey before bed, I stopped needing it. Each night my dreams were vivid. They were of Autumn; they were of AlyssaandAutumn, and they weren’t about the last day of Alyssa’s life that used to haunt me.

The more I thought about it—the more I was convinced Autumn was an angel sent to rescue me.

My past was haunting me.

But now my future looked promising.

“Hey,” Jackson called, coming into the living room where I sat on the couch watching TV. “The guys want to grab a drink. You down?”

I nodded. Guy time would be good. “Yeah. When?”

“Now.”

I looked down at my jeans and blue T-shirt. I was ready. It was the middle of the afternoon and I didn’t have anyone to impress.

We met the guys at Oak & Ivy, a whiskey cocktail bar in Container Park. The bar was narrow with wood lining all the surfaces, and there was only enough space to sit at the bar or outside. The copper lamp shades that hung above the bar gave everything a rustic feel. I’d never heard of the bar, but I fell in love as I walked in, noticing the forty-plus different kinds of whiskey they had to offer.

“You’re a whiskey man?” Brad asked as we all looked over the menu as we sat belly up to the bar.

“The glass can be half empty or half full as long as there’s whiskey in it,” I replied with a smile.

“We’re gonna be great friends.” He laughed.

I settled on trying the Brown Sack Special, which was bartender’s choice. I had no doubt the man dressed in his bow tie and suspenders could make me a drink to my liking.

“How are you two liking Vegas?” Vinny asked, looking from me to Jackson.

“Dude, the women …” Jackson began, shaking his head. “This is my first night off since we got here last week.”

“Same with you, Gabe?” Nick asked.

I shook my head. “Nope. I guess the ladies don’t like the bald head.” I laughed.

“That’s kinda true,” Vinny said, rubbing his bald head. “These fuckers get more dates than me.” He motioned with his thumb to Nick and Brad.

“I’m not complaining. I’ve been helping out a friend.”

“A girlfriend?” Nick asked.

“Nah—”

“He wants her to be,” Jackson interrupted.

“Does she know what you do for a living?” Brad asked.

I chuckled and took a sip of the concoction the bartender placed in front of me. “Nope. Not sure how that’s going to work out.”