Page 16 of The Lilac River (Silver Peaks #1)

Jar of Hearts – Christina Perri

Lily

I t had been a long, hard week.

With a new class came inevitable chaos and mine came with Amber and Macey.

They spent the entire week trying to form their own mini-empire, declaring war on anyone who didn't swear loyalty to their little gang. I'd even caught them about to snip a chunk out of Elodie's hair. Sweet, shy Elodie who was Bertie’s best friend. No way was she joining their gang under my watch. Then there was the Santa Claus disaster. Amber, with all the tact of a wrecking ball, decided to educate Turner, the quietest boy in class, that Santa wasn’t real. The next morning, Turner’s father showed up demanding blood and expulsions, saying his son had cried himself sick all night.

Some days, it felt like teaching third graders was like herding caffeinated kittens through a glitter factory.

On Tuesday, right before recess, Jonah Harrison decided it would be a great idea to stuff crayons up his nose and challenge Hunter Biggs to a “who can sneeze them the farthest” contest. Meanwhile, Paisley Wells was gluing googly eyes onto the class hamster’s cage, claiming he “looked lonely," and Toby Daniels somehow managed to knock over the entire bookshelf while reaching for the dictionary to look up a word he couldn’t spell.

And through it all, I just smiled, tied back my hair, and quietly thanked the gods of elementary education that I kept a travel-sized bottle of Tylenol in my desk drawer.

It was loud, messy, chaotic and somehow, I loved every second of it.

By Friday night, however, I was a caffeine-fueled, nerve-frayed shell of a teacher. I needed a drink. Or five.

"God, I need this drink," Cassidy groaned dramatically as we shoved through the doors of Downtown Bar & Grill. She didn’t hesitate to muscle her way through the Friday night crowd. Images of bygone nights spent here flashed through my mind. The kid’s nights that Brad the owner held for us high school kids.

The smell of burgers and fries in the air as Nash and I gazed at each other over the table.

Not much had changed. The same smell lingered, the tables looked the same and in the corner was still a pool table. The bar looked like it had a new top but otherwise I could have been eighteen again, sneaking in vodka to drink with our coke.

"Right, what are you drinking?" Leaning on the bar, Cassidy nudged me and jerked her chin toward the bartender. "Delaney’s ass. It’s a work of art," she whispered.

I laughed despite myself. "Pretty sure I'm not allowed to notice. I babysat him when he was still eating Play-Doh."

"God, I forgot you're local," Cassidy said, scandalized. "You’re like Silver Peaks royalty."

"Hardly," I chuckled.

Delaney made his way over, his grin wide when he caught sight of me.

"Lily? Damn, it’s been forever!" he said, reaching across to fist bump me.

"Hey, Delaney. You look good," I said genuinely. "How are your folks?"

"Still checking in from their Florida vacation every day," he said, laughing. "And they’re gonna lose their minds when I tell them you're back."

Cassidy ordered without hesitation, a bottle of white wine, and four shots of tequila. I raised my eyebrows at the "four."

"Survival drinks," she said. "It’s tradition after the first week."

Delaney leaned in and grinned. "First round’s on me. Welcome home."

I tried to protest but he waved me off. "Soon to be owner privileges."

"Buying this place?" I said, impressed.

"In a couple of weeks, it’s mine. Brad is retiring to go fishing."

Cassidy nudged me again, hard. "See? He's successful and he has a great butt. What’s not to love?"

I laughed and shook my head. "No way. I built Lego castles with that kid. I’d feel like a criminal."

She pouted dramatically. "Fine. We’ll find you someone else."

I was about to argue when Cassidy’s gaze sharpened over my shoulder.

"Oh, sweet mercy," she whispered. "Hold on to your panties, Lily. One of the single dads just walked in. Unfortunately, with his idiot brother but…" she shrugged in that ‘when life gives you lemons’ kind of way.

I turned and the world tilted.

Nash.

He strode through the door like he owned every molecule of air, jeans hugging strong legs, dark t-shirt stretched over broad shoulders, his hair just the wrong side of neat.

Gunner and Wilder flanked him, laughing at something. Three brothers, older than I remembered, but still unmistakably them.

“Oh shit,” I muttered.

"You know him?" Cassidy asked.

"Yeah," I said softly. “I know all three of them.”

Too well. I knew them too well.

“I need all the gossip on the eldest one because,” Cassidy nodded her head in Nash’s direction, "all I know is that he’s single and looks dangerous in all the best ways."

I couldn’t tear my gaze away. She was right. He looked so good, devastatingly good, but there was a shadow in his eyes now. A shadow I was partly responsible for.

I turned quickly, feeling raw and exposed.

As Cassidy led us toward a booth, arms full of drinks, a familiar voice stopped me cold.

"Lily."

I turned.

Gunner and Wilder stood there, both looking at me like I was a ghost. Both broader, tougher. And neither smiling.

"Gunner," I whispered, throat tightening. "Wilder."

For a heartbeat, Wilder’s mouth twitched like he might smile, but then it was gone.

"Heard you were back," he said flatly.

"It’s been a while," Gunner added.

Cassidy threw him a look I couldn’t decipher, muttered something about grabbing the booth and made herself scarce.

"I’m sorry," I said, because there was nothing else.

Gunner’s mouth pulled tight. Wilder’s eyes were colder than I'd ever seen.

And then?—

Nash.

He stepped between them, and suddenly he was the only thing I could see. Close enough that I could see the tiny scar above his eyebrow, the one he'd gotten climbing the water tower when we were sixteen. His chest rose and fell sharply, like he was holding himself back with sheer willpower.

"You’re still saying that," Nash said, voice low and rough. "Still can’t give a real answer."

I tucked my hair behind my ears, my heart rattling against my ribs.

"I don’t know what else to say."

His jaw flexed, the muscle ticking. But it wasn’t hatred on his face, it was hurt. Bruised, angry, hurt.

"Tell me something I don’t know," he said. "Like why you left."

I dropped my gaze to my toes, too ashamed to meet his eyes.

When I didn’t answer, he exhaled harshly and then added, quietly, his voice almost breaking, "I would've waited forever, Lil. You didn’t even give me the chance."

The breath caught in my chest, raw and painful.

Before I could say anything, he shook his head and stepped back, hiding the wreckage in his eyes behind a mask of indifference.

"Forget it," he muttered. Then, turning to his brothers, he said, "Come on. Let’s get a drink. Try to rescue something out of tonight."

As he walked away, Gunner hesitated, shooting me a look I couldn’t quite decipher. Then Wilder gave him a shove, and they followed Nash.

When I finally slid into the booth across from Cassidy, she was waiting with two full glasses and a sympathetic smile.

"Spill the tea, honey," she said.

I swallowed down the knot in my throat and half a glass of wine.

Then, for the first time in years, I let someone else into the story I’d locked away inside me.