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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Emory

“Hey, you made it!” Marty saluted me with his beer bottle when I came through the door of the Fieldhouse. “Get over here and save me! I’m shit at darts.”

The dive bar was tiny, with more TVs than tables. On a Monday night in late July, there wasn’t much to see on the screens other than commentators rehashing the latest baseball games. Riverton was more of a football town. Once the regular season started, the bar—a little quiet tonight—would pack in rowdy, obsessive fans.

I joined Marty in front of the dartboard, snagging the beer from his hand to steal a drink. Seeing the brothers together tonight—so loyal and supportive—had gotten to me more than I’d expected.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Adam. What our relationship might be like now if he were still alive.

Would I have told him about my sexuality? About what I really wanted out of life? Maybe he and I would be the ones to grab beers together on a Monday night, play some darts, and shoot the shit about his work at the bank. Maybe his wife and kids.

I’d give anything for that. For him to just be here.

“You okay?” Marty asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

I wasn’t really in the mood to be social, but if I went home, I’d just spiral into depression. Better to distract myself with a few drinks and then crash into bed.

Katie, a sweet brunette who worked as a first-grade teacher, lined up a shot with all the focus of a sharpshooter on a roof.

She squinted one eye, raising the dart, and adjusted her position twice before letting it fly. It hit a millimeter from the bull’s-eye.

“Way to go, baby!”

Dallas came up alongside her, draping an arm over her shoulder. Damn it. Where had he come from?

He cast a smirk toward me. “Think you can beat that? I mean, you were the star pitcher in high school and all. It’d be kind of embarrassing to lose to a girl.”

Katie laughed and swatted Dallas playfully. “Stop being a bully.”

He grinned. “I’m just teasing. No hard feelings, right, Em?”

His eyes met mine, and my stomach clenched. I didn’t like him shortening my name the way my friends did. Didn’t like him even looking at me. But I couldn’t exactly tell him to fuck off without an explanation.

I focused on the dartboard instead. Pitching and throwing darts were hardly the same skill set, but aiming for a target? That I could do. I lined up the shot, assessed the distance, and flicked the dart forward.

It landed right beside Katie’s—farther from the bull’s-eye.

“Now that’s just sad,” Dallas said with a chuckle.

Marty nudged me. “You’ve got more shots. It’s all good.”

Katie threw her next dart, which went wide. Good news for me. My next shot hit the edge of the bull’s-eye.

One more shot would determine who won. But I didn’t care about that. I handed the darts to Marty.

“I’m thirsty. You finish it out while I grab a couple more beers.”

“No way,” Dallas called. “If you leave, you forfeit!”

I ignored him. I needed a breather from his foul presence.

Gail was behind the bar, dressed in the maroon and gold Riverton High Cornjerkers jersey, washed-out blond hair pulled back in a ponytail.

“Hey, Emory.” Gail pulled the tap, a rich stout filling the pint glass in her hand. “What can I get ya?”

“Just a couple of Green Label IPAs in the bottle.”

“You got it.”

She set the pint in front of Simon Prentiss, the gorgeous assistant athletic coordinator at the community college on the north side of town. His boyfriend, Parker Reid, sipped from a water glass.

“You sure you don’t want anything else?” Simon asked.

Parker shook his head. “Early morning in class. Hungover is a really bad look in the second grade.”

I bit down on a smile and watched Gail grab the beers from a cooler behind her.

“We could leave,” Simon said. “Katie looks like she’s going to be here for a while.”

“I don’t feel great about leaving her with Dallas. He gives me bad vibes.”

No shit. Too bad I hadn’t had Parker’s instincts when Dallas asked me to get into that car. And how weird was it that he’d fucked around with Gray back in the day? Left him in quite the mess too, by the sounds of it. Did that mean he’d been screwing around with guys secretly while dating women like Katie in public for a whole decade?

My stomach turned at the thought of doing that. I might not be out, but I’d never fake it like that. I hated that people assumed Allison and I were together, so I couldn’t imagine intentionally misleading them . But that made me wonder…did it bother Gray, knowing I wasn’t telling anyone about us?

You’re just hooking up, remember? It’s not serious enough for him to care.

Still, I could be honest about one thing. I leaned over, interrupting Simon and Parker.

“Dallas is a creep. You should definitely keep an eye on Katie.”

Parker glanced across the room with a frown. “Seriously? Maybe I should go remind her of how early the morning bell will ring.”

I nodded. “Probably a good idea.”

“Thanks.” He hopped off the stool, then paused. “You work at the bank, right? You’re one of the Golds?”

“Yeah, Emory.”

Parker nodded. “Thanks for the heads-up about Dallas. As outsiders, me and Simon don’t always know the full story about people in this town.”

They were hardly outsiders. They had lived in Riverton a few years now—and as former college football stars, they were popular. Riverton was nothing if not a football town.

But it was also a small town full of gossipy history that they probably didn’t know.

That wasn’t the issue with Dallas. He was a shark gliding under the radar of most people. I probably shouldn’t have said anything. I couldn’t possibly explain why he was sketchy if Parker asked.

Luckily, he didn’t. He took off across the bar, and Simon threw down some cash and followed.

I picked up one of the beers Gail had left in front of me and took a swig. Marty jostled me as he took Simon’s vacated seat. “Ditching me to hang out with the popular kids? Not cool.”

“Nah.” I slid a beer over to him. “Just not in the mood to play games.”

“I lost horribly as soon as you left, then Dallas beat the pants off me too.”

I cringed at that imagery, thinking Marty was lucky he didn’t know how close to the truth that could be with Dallas. “Sorry for bailing. I was a bad wingman.”

“It’s okay.” He picked up the IPA, then grimaced and eyed the stout that Simon had left behind. “It would be weird if I drank this abandoned beer, right?”

“Yes.” I chuckled. “But I happen to know he didn’t touch it. So go ahead and be weird.”

Marty snagged it and took a long drink. I cast a glance across the bar. Parker and Simon were nudging a reluctant Katie toward the door. Dallas was off in the corner, chatting up some other woman because of course he was.

“So, what’s up with you tonight?” Marty asked. “You’ve got storm clouds hovering over your head.”

“I don’t know. Long day at work, I guess. I’m just tired.”

Marty eyed me over the rim of his glass. He knew me too well because he shook his head. “Not buying it.”

I groaned. “Just leave it.”

“Dude, it’s not healthy to bottle that shit up.”

I lifted my beer. “Maybe I liked bottled shit.”

He snorted. “Okay, man. I’m just trying to be a friend.”

I sighed, a twinge of guilt hitting me. “I know. I’m just in a weird mood because I’ve been working with these brothers.”

“Ah.” There was knowing tone to his voice. “Missing Adam?”

“I mean, it’s been so long. How can I miss him? I don’t even know what he’d be like now. How can I miss what doesn’t even exist?”

“Because you loved him, and he’s gone. That doesn’t go away just because it’s been…”

“Seventeen years,” I filled in, knowing it by heart. “He’s been dead longer than he was alive.”

I took another swallow of beer to force down the lump in my throat.

“It’s shitty, but he’s not gone.” He tapped my chest. “You carry him. Don’t forget that.”

“Yeah.”

Sometimes I wished I didn’t carry him, though, and wasn’t that just the most selfish thought ever? The least I could do was remember my brother. Remember that he’d lived once.

Remember the way he’d smiled when he’d been about to pull a prank on the neighbors. Remember his laugh when Dad snuck up and tickled him. Remember the intensity in his brown eyes when he decided to take on a dare.

A dare that got him killed. My fault…

I threw a twenty-dollar bill on the bar. “I should get home. Early meeting tomorrow.”

Marty clinked his bottle against mine. “I’m glad you came out, but next time, just tell me how you’re feeling. We can just hang out and talk instead.”

I patted his shoulder. “Thanks, man. But then how would you go chat up Sasha?”

He whipped around so fast he nearly fell off the barstool. “Where?”

“Over at the jukebox,” I said.

“Shit.” He ran his hands through his messy brown hair, smoothing it down, and then tugged at the hem of his T-shirt. Considering it was covered in an image of Hulk busting into monster form, I doubted he could make it look much more impressive, but it was cute how much he liked this woman.

“She’s probably here with Todd, anyway,” he said.

“No sign of him,” I countered. “I think she’s here with a friend. See Wendy? She’s flirting with that new dentist in town. What’s his name? Everett?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“You’d probably be saving her from being a third wheel.”

“You think?”

“Yes.” I gave him a little push. “Go.”

He resisted. “You probably need to talk more, though. We could go grab a coffee?—”

“No way. Don’t use me as your excuse for bailing.”

“I don’t know what to say!”

“Okay, calm down.” I thought for a minute. “Just ask her for a reunion update. Say I sent you over. It’ll break the ice.”

“Yeah, that could work.” He flashed me a nervous smile. “Wish me luck.”

“You won’t need it,” I said encouragingly.

Marty was a good-looking guy. If he could find a little more confidence with women, he’d have no trouble meeting someone. He tended to crush from afar and never make a move, though.

He stopped twice on his way across the bar, pausing to look over his shoulder at me. I motioned him forward each time, not about to let him back out.

He joined Sasha by the jukebox, saying something that made her turn her head. She glanced toward me. Time to go before she decided to come give me an update in person.

I slipped off the barstool, gave Marty one last encouraging nod, and headed home.

Marty’s bright smile as I went out the door was a good distraction from the darker thoughts tugging at me. The guilt and grief and remorse that clung to me no matter how many years went by.

As soon I got to my bedroom, I stripped down to my underwear, leaving my clothes piled on the chair, and climbed into bed. When sleep eluded me, I determinedly thought about Gray and the way he’d kissed me tonight and said, You’re too hard on yourself.

The way he’d called me sweetheart.

It had just slipped out. He hadn’t really meant it.

He also didn’t know the full story. I deserved to be hard on myself. Every day, I deserved to hurt for Adam. It was only fair since I got to live a life that had been stolen from him.

But I still replayed that moment with Gray again and again, drowning out everything else with Gray’s warm lips and sweet words, until I fell asleep.