Page 42 of Jordan’s Breakthrough (Unexpected Love #3)

JORDAN

F or a Tuesday night, it’s busier than I expect. Nearly every table is packed, every booth is full, and groups have started to form in any available space.

“We gotta get some of these people outside,” I say to Declan as he passes.

“I was just thinking that. Yo, Vince!” Declan shouts to the bald guy by the door. When Vince doesn’t look, I stick two fingers between my teeth to whistle.

He turns.

Declan signals to the crowd then points toward the back door, using both hands as if rolling it up.

Vince understands, giving him a thumbs up.

“Is it just me, or is he a little off lately?” Piper asks, waiting to take a full tray out.

“Declan?”

“No. Vince.”

I glance back at the guy, but he’s already too deep into the crowd. “How so?”

“He seemed like he wasn’t feeling well last night, but when I asked him about it, he just waved it off. He’s been more tired than usual lately. Melody said she saw him leaning against the wall the other day. He’s never like that.”

I frown. That is strange. “I’ll keep an eye on him. Does Dec know?”

“I’ll mention it.”

“See that you do. Vince is not the kind of guy to ask for help.”

She raises her brows at me. “Like someone else we know, huh?”

Cheers erupt as Vince unrolls the back garage door to the large, shaded patio. It was our biggest, and—in my opinion—best part of the renovation, combining inner and outer seating areas when the weather is nice.

Half of the crowd instantly shifts toward the patio, making me breathe a sigh of relief.

When I see Melody, I holler at her. “Hey, Mel, another tray is ready!”

She grins widely as she sidles up in front of me, fixing a clip in her short hair. “Don’t you love it when it’s like this? It’s hopping!”

I arch a brow, and she laughs.

“Right. Know who you’re talking to.”

I have to say though, I hate busy days a little less now. They don’t grate on me as badly or drain me as easily. Besides, it’s exactly the kind of thing Declan, Piper, and I dreamed of when we planned the remodel. It’s what we wanted.

After Oliver plates more appetizers, Mel whisks away to deliver them to another table.

A group of women rush over to the newly-hung “First Timers” poster we keep by the hall.

It was Melody’s idea to make newcomers feel like they’re part of something special and hopefully encourage them to come back.

Customers love signing it now. It’s been filling up fast. Tonight might be its last leg.

I wonder if she’d be up for designing a “second edition.” They could become collector’s pieces around here. Framed and displayed through the years.

“Can I get a Bloody Mary, please?” a woman asks.

“You got it.”

As I turn around to grab the tomato juice, I notice the lights taped to the shelf holding Graham’s prized pint collection are dancing through the full spectrum of colors.

“Son of a—who changed those?”

Oliver glances over his shoulder, then gives me a guilty expression. “Sorry.”

Yanking the drawer by the register open, I snag the tiny remote and change the dancing lights to a solid green.

“It’s fine if you want to change colors, but no dancing ones. Got it?”

He furrows his brows. “Why?”

“My meds,” I explain. One weird side effect of my new medication is I’ve noticed strobe effects give me killer headaches. But it’s a minor price to pay for feeling like I can live.

Besides, I just hate when they dance. It’s distracting as hell.

After finishing the drink, I smile at the customer. “Here you go. One Bloody Mary.”

The woman beams. “Thanks!”

I pull the drink back just as someone crashes into her from behind. They both squeal in delight as they hug. “You made it!”

“I did. Thanks for the invite.” Her friend turns to look around. “This place is amazing.”

“Isn’t it? We love it.”

Declan’s laugh echoes from the other end of the bar, making Oliver, Piper and I all turn in his direction.

He’s talking to Fletcher Rhide, the small business owner who helped renovate our bar.

Fletcher treats his workers to drinks on a regular basis, which is good for the business. Declan likes to keep him happy.

I like Fletcher. He’s the kind of guy who would give the shirt off his back to a stranger if he thought it was necessary.

“Someone’s in a good mood tonight,” Oliver says, smirking at Declan.

“Yeah, he loves this shit now,” I say. “How busy we are.”

“Now? He hasn’t always?”

I shrug. “Nah, not always. He changed once he met Seth.”

Oliver’s eyes light up. “Must be a theme with the hot bartenders here, huh?”

I raise a brow. Hot?

He shrugs. “Just calling it like I see it.”

Over his shoulder, I see Vince wipe his brow as he returns to the door. His bald head glistens with sweat. Is he overheating? Maybe he needs some water.

“Hey, Seth!”

Seth looks at me.

I toss him a bottle of water. “Take it to Vince.”

Seth disappears into the crowd. Vince seems relieved when Seth gives it to him, taking a huge gulp. Poor guy doesn’t get enough credit for what he does.

But now I’m worried. Vince has rarely ever looked so tired. Maybe Piper’s on to something.

“Hey, Jordan,” a voice says.

I smile when I see Holden. “Oh, hey. What can I get you?”

“Two berry sangrias and one vodka sour, please.”

“You got it. Here with friends?”

Holden points over his shoulder, where his blue-haired friend from the movie is sitting next to a blonde woman. “Korie and Hattie.”

Korie. That’s it. I couldn’t remember the name. Korie is wearing a stunning blue dress that glitters under the lights.

“She’s decked out, isn’t she?”

“ They, and yeah. They enjoy dressing up sometimes. Some friends are coming in soon too.”

“Oh yeah? How about I upgrade the sangrias to a pitcher then?”

He grins. “Sure, thanks.”

“How do you know them?” I ask, nodding at his friends.

“Korie and I have been friends since we were little. Our parents are close, which made us close. That kind of thing. And Hattie is my twin.”

“No shit?”

He shrugs.

“What’s that like?”

“Eh, you know. Annoying seventy percent of the time, but great the other thirty.”

I chuckle. “Sounds about right. You guys close?”

“Very.”

“Good. I’ve heard that’s common with twins.”

“Can be, yeah. Anyway, I wanted to ask. Are you still seeing someone? Because if not, I really am interested.” A small dimple appears in his left cheek when he smiles.

I shake my head, amused. I thought Piper was the one to push him toward me, but maybe not. His confidence is astounding. “I am, yeah.”

“Damn. Must be serious then?”

“It is.” I’m only seeing Miles through a screen right now, but I’m still fully committed to him.

Holden seems truly disappointed. “Got it. Well, if that ever changes, Declan can tell you where to find me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’ll take that date,” Oliver says.

Holden darts his attention over to Oliver, eyes widening. “Oh?”

Oliver shrugs, gaze darting up and down Holden’s lean frame. Holden returns his stare without shame.

“All right. Sure.” He quickly snags a napkin from the counter to write his phone number on. “Call me?”

Oliver pockets it. “Will do, boo.”

I finish the drinks and place them on a tray before swiping Holden’s debit card.

“Piper, can you follow Holden with these?”

She takes it. “You bet.”

About an hour later, the crowd finally slows, so I disappear into the storage room to grab a few more liquor bottles. With the door closed, I take a second to check my phone. There are two new messages from Miles, and I quickly swipe to read them.

Miles: Fuck, today was the worst! Sometimes I regret becoming a nurse. I care too much.

Forty minutes later, another message.

Miles: I really need a hug, Jord. Sorry to complain so much, but today was just really, really hard.

We lost a patient a little bit ago, and Ruth is back too.

She had surgery. It went okay, and she’s okay.

But I just hate seeing her like that. It was hard.

I’m super sad tonight. IDK. Maybe I’m just tired.

My heart sinks. Oh, Miles.

Me: I’m so sorry, babe. That’s rough. Really rough. Believe me, I wish I could give you that hug.

I send it, then type out another.

Me: It’s busy tonight, but I’m here. I’ll try to check my phone more often. I’ll message you when I’m off. XO.

I shove my phone away, then grip the shelves as unexpected sadness fills me. Is this what Miles and my relationship is going to be like for the next three months? Sneaking messages and clinging to spare moments?

I’m not going to lie. I hate it.

I had a hard time sleeping last night after not being able to talk to Miles again.

His voice calms me like nothing else can.

But he’d fallen asleep so fast after I’d hung up, and I can’t even blame him.

The new shift is hard on him. But now to hear Miles talk like that and not be able to be there for him? It’s ripping me apart.

He’s the sunshine between us, and his light is dimming. I’ve seen the signs. What’s worse is I don’t think Miles has. Or if he has, he hasn’t acknowledged it.

He’s slipping into depression.

Every time he’s been depressed has been because someone left him.

First when his grandpa died, then after his breakup with his ex.

Miles told me he was depressed when he first started this job too, before he met Sophie, because he missed his family.

He’s not someone who can be alone. He needs people. And right now, he doesn’t have that.

My phone buzzes, so I yank it out.

Miles: I’m okay now, I think. Just miss you, though.

It’s a lie. I know in my gut it’s a lie. Miles downplays his pain even though I’ve told him not to.

I grit my teeth. Miles needs me.

The truth washes over me in a rush, but my heart races with the thought of leaving San Diego. If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t even consider it, but this is Miles. My Miles. The man I love.

He’s worth leaving San Diego for, no matter how it makes me feel.

Decision made, I carry the bottles out and walk over to Declan.

“Hey, Dec?”

He turns.

“Can we talk later?”