Page 5 of True Honey (The Hornets Nest #4)

COURTNEY

“ Y ou weren’t kidding,” I said, throwing down a tray of dirty glasses to scoop up the next full one from the bar.

Kayla gave me a panicked smile and flipped her dark hair over her shoulders before starting the next round of drinks. The baseball team had won their game, and it was like every single person in the stadium had flooded down the hill and through the front doors of Hilly’s.

“Told you! It gets crazy in here after a win,” she hollered and handed off a tray to one of the other girls. “Stay here,” she said and pointed to the stairs as she took the tray from my arms. The loft was full of players and their friends celebrating the win.

I was just grateful that there wasn’t a sports quiz to get the job because I knew as much about baseball as I did rocket science.

My eyes scanned around to one of the spare tables that were pressed against the wall leading into the kitchen.

August sat with his headphones in and his nose in a book.

His sweater was too big for him, and he wore that stupid gold chain he got from his grandmother on Christmas.

His dark hair, usually cut close to his scalp, is growing out and for a moment he looked just like his dad the day I met him.

I had to beg Kayla to let him sit inside because with all the drunks around I didn’t want him in the parking lot.

It was temporary. Just until that first paycheck hit and I could get us a hotel.

So we found him a place out of the way and safe from the bar patrons where he could read his astronomy book and listen to music.

“Hey, Cherry!” someone called out and I made the stupid mistake of looking. Two drunk guys at the end of the bar were waving me down. “Can we get some beer or is there some secret handshake we have to do with you to get some one-on-one attention?”

I forced a sweet smile to my face for the tip that they probably wouldn’t give and hummed as I leaned over the bar. “What do you want?”

“From the fridge or from you?” one of them chuckled and I could see that this was going to get me nowhere. I grabbed two beers and put them on the counter for them with that same smile on my face.

“Oh come on,” he pressed, wrapping his hand around mine instead of just taking the beer by the neck of the bottle.

“Sorry boys, all you’re getting out of me is beer,” I said and turned away to grab a tray of drinks that one of the bartenders finished with.

I scooted past them and into the crowd, narrowly missing bodies and managing to keep the tray level as I navigated to the table.

I had made it less than five feet when a hand slapped across my ass hard.

It stung up my back with shame and anger. I tensed but I wasn’t fast enough to stop my quick steps and in my distraction, I slammed into the body in front of me with a loud crash of drinks hitting the floor and a string of curse words.

“I am so sorry!” I gasped, sliding the tray mindlessly onto the table next to me as people turned to take in the commotion and I pulled out the towel from my apron.

The guy next to me started flipping out and stepping around in the glass as I raised my hands and tried to tell him to stand still.

“Please!” I yelled, but it was swallowed by the sounds of the music and crowd.

Someone from behind me rammed into my shoulder and caused me to bump into the table covered in broken glass and sticky half drank booze.

“Fuck,” I swore as a shard bit into the palm of my hand.

I shoved it into my apron pocket to contain the blood and turned back to the customer who had gotten the worst of the accident.

I started to pat dry the soaking wet dress shirt frantically, the panic building up so fast I almost forgot that I had been assaulted and was bleeding in my pocket.

“It’s alright. It’s not as bad as it looks.” I recognized the voice instantly and looked up from the massive stain to meet his gray eyes. “Fancy meeting you here. ”

“I—” I stepped back from Silas and swallowed roughly as my cheeks turned a new shade of pink.

I had just ruined his shirt and made a fool of myself all in one go.

Panic surged up through my nerves and every negative thought I could ever have come up with bubbled up in my throat.

My hand stung and my heart was racing as everyone started to yell and push.

“I’ll get another towel!” I yelled, backing up as the crowd became rowdy.

I was swallowed by shoving bodies, tucking back through the chaos to the bar where the two men stood sipping on their beers with smug looks on their faces.

Tears pricked at my eyes as one winked and the other raised his bottle, unbothered.

I spun to the left toward the kitchen to see August still completely unaware of what was going on.

Good , I hiccupped and grabbed another towel from behind the bar.

“Are you okay?” Kayla’s eyes went wide at the cut on my palm.

“Yeah, I just… I dropped a tray and broke some glasses,” I rambled with my eyes on the cut. “You can take it out of my check and I’m really sorry this is so embarrassing. You hired me for my experience and now I’m breaking things…”

“Just go take care of your hand, I’ll clean up,” she said, cutting me off. I couldn’t tell if she was mad at me and it was only making the panic worse. It sat heavy across my chest and made it difficult to breathe as I pushed through the sea of bodies toward the bathrooms on the main floor.

As I broke out of the crowd a hand wrapped around my bicep to stop me. I turned back with a flinch only to see it was Silas again, he let go of me the second I tensed and raised both his hands in the air. The shirt he was wearing was totally ruined, and probably his jeans in the aftermath.

“I’ll replace your shirt,” I said, “or get it dry cleaned…” The words were tumbling out of my mouth faster than I could stop them as he stood there quietly with an unreadable expression on his face. “Can it be dry cleaned?”

His eyes shifted from pensive to concerned as they looked me over and fell dead on the blood pooling between my fingers against the towel.

“You’re bleeding?” He stepped forward and I stepped back. “Hey whoa!” He kept his hands up in surrender. “Doctor, remember? ”

I hadn’t. “I think I’ve caused you enough trouble tonight.” I looked down at my hand and back up at him. “It’s alright, it just needs some tap water and a bandaid.”

“I’m not usually this pushy but please don’t wash that out in the bathroom sink of Hilly’s.” He stared at me, his hands slowly coming down and turning over. With his palm upward he extended it to me. “Can I see?”

I hesitated, the music from the bar still thumping through my muscles and vibrating my chest alongside my anxiety.

I had fucked up so badly today there was no way that Kayla let me keep my job and I’d have to spend all day tomorrow searching for a new job or leave Harbor and uproot August again.

I couldn’t breathe as the longing questions started to build with no answers in sight.

“Please?” Silas’s voice seemed to cut through all the noise.

I pressed my hand into his and he took control of the towel haphazardly wrapped around it.

“Come with me,” he said, side-stepping to allow me in front of him.

His arm wrapped around me with his chest to my back and he held my hand against my stomach.

“Just out there.” He leaned close, nodding to the side door that led into the parking lot, guiding me gently, chest warm against my back.

His steps fell in time with mine and soon the cool air of the parking lot was hitting my cheeks and rushing through my hair.

“That’s it,” he encouraged and stepped back, his body curled around me again until he was standing facing me and unwrapping the towel around my hand.

“I ruined your shirt,” I said again, my focus drawn to the horrible stain down the front of it.

“I have too many anyways,” he mused, his eyes focused on the cut and not on my worry as he chucked the towel over his shoulder, bloody and stained.

I swallowed tightly, trying to eat the pain that whiskered at my palm.

The cut wasn’t bad but there was a small piece of glass wedged into the meaty part of my hand.

“One second,” he said, fishing keys out of his pocket and hitting the button on a fob that lit up a Jeep in the parking lot. Silas let go of my hand and darted across the lot, digging in the back of the vehicle and returning with a small red pouch of first aid supplies.

“Lucky you keep that on you,” I said in a small voice.

“Oh that’s not my car,” he took my palm again and unzipped the pouch with his teeth so it laid out flat. He bumped my other hand with it so I’d take it for him. “Tucker is a worry wart, he’s the only one with an emergency pack in the trunk.”

“And you have keys to his car…” I said confused as he picked around the pack for something.

“Worrywart, I have the spare set because he misplaces things in the locker room,” he laughed and clicked together a pair of tweezers. “He even keeps fire blankets in the trunk. Who does that? It’s like he expects his car to explode on the side of the road—”

I gasped as he tugged the piece of glass out of my skin without warning.

“You’re okay,” he whispered and held up the glass to the light before chucking it away from us.

He lifted my palm into the light that hung over the side door and gave it a good look.

“I think you can keep this hand,” he looked up through his lashes and offered the smallest smile that still managed to crinkle the lines around his eyes.

“I’d get a second opinion though, I’m not a very trustworthy doctor.

Every time we meet, I smell like whiskey. ”

“You’re right, you do.” I smiled back. “Thank you, it feels better already. I really am sorry about your shirt—”

“The only thing I’m upset about is you apologizing,” Silas said arching his brow. “I’m more worried about your hand. Are you okay?” He asked me and I gave him a small nod as he pressed a long square bandage to my palm. “Make sure you fill out a report for Kayla.”

I need a job to fill out an incident report , I thought.

“Are you a lawyer too?” I tried to joke, but it came out dry.

“Funny,” he said and shook his head. “Hilly’s can be a lot after a win, what happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I sure didn’t grab my own ass,” I grumbled under my breath.

“And here I thought you were throwing yourself at me,” he said, pressing down all the edges of the badges with his finger. When he was done he took the kit back and held on to it. “Better?” He asked, finally looking back up at me.

“Better,” I said .

He stepped back and patted himself down dramatically causing me to laugh a little. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“I think I’ve got some customer satisfaction surveys around here somewhere,” he mumbled with a smirk. “Hey uh,” he stopped and looked up at me, “I’m not trying to pry but what's with the car?”

I looked over my shoulder at it crammed with boxes and suitcases.

“We haven’t found an apartment yet,” I said, just trying to be polite.

“We?” He asked, clearly fishing for a boyfriend, maybe a husband. It was evident on his face.

“My son, August.”