“The Walshes are complicated, but Dylan was different.”

  “Nevin’s different too.”

  A woman I didn’t even meet until a few weeks ago has defended me more than most people I’ve encountered in my life. And I’ve done nothing but be a miserable prick to her too.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this new side of Luna. Where did the do-crazy-shit-and-fuck-all-the-people side of you go?”

  Luna’s face falls. “My best friend went to prison. He doesn’t even look like himself anymore, but…” Luna stops talking, glancing down the bar at me as I pretend to be busy.

  Rosie covers Luna’s hand with hers as I watch from the corner of my eye, pretending not to be listening in on their conversation. “I get it. I really do. But you need to find your joy again, and I don’t think Nevin’s the way to do it.”

  “I’ve never needed a man to make me happy, Ro. You know that better than anyone.”

  “You’ve always been the badass out of the two of us.”

  I don’t know why, but that statement makes me smile.

  “Hey, handsome. Can I get another?” a woman asks, lifting her glass into the air to show me she’s empty.

  I pour her another whiskey sour and place it in front of her. “Do I know you?” she asks as her eyes wander around my face but never focus completely. “I know I do, but don’t know from where.”

  By the stench of whiskey coming off her, I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to place her own face even if she were staring in the mirror.

  “Nope. Never met you,” I tell her, quickly finding something to keep myself away from the person I think is the local barfly and drunk. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s a regular.

  She lifts her glass, pointing at me with her finger as she fists the drink. “You were in the paper.”

  “Wasn’t me,” I mutter.

  “Yeah. Yeah.” She nods, almost spilling her drink over the side of her hand with her jerky movements. “You’re the boy who went to prison for a crime he didn’t commit.”

  Fuck. This is the worst part about living in a small town. The gossip. When there isn’t much to talk about, everything becomes worthy of a story.

  “You must have me confused with someone else.” I try to get her to drop it, but as inebriated as she is, she doesn’t catch on.

  “It was you.” She squints, focusing on my face so intently, you’d think she was seeing triple. “Solid thing you did for Ian. He’s a great guy. Best bartender and listener there was this side of town.”

  “I’m nothing like him.”

  She laughs. “You can say that again. You’re a light pour and not much of a talker either, but that’ll change when you settle in.”

  Doubtful, but I’m not going to argue with her.

  “Is it weird to be in his spot?” She keeps prying.

  It seems to be the story of my life. I am always filling in for Ian. The bar had an opening because they hadn’t been able to fill his position since he turned himself in. Enter me. A man looking for any type of employment, even a shitty bartender job at the worst drinking hole in town.

  “No, ma’am. Just doing a job.”

  “Nevin.” Luna’s voice carries down the bar, and I glance her way, wanting to be rescued from the woman with so many wrinkles on her face, she obviously worships the sun.

  I stalk away from whiskey sour and head toward the girls, being greeted by their smiling faces. The tequila has no doubt already started working its magic.

  “Can you get us another, please?” Rosie asks as Luna stares at me, blinking slowly.

  I give them a quick refill and am about to walk away when Luna asks, “You want to come to our grandparents’ house for dinner next week?”

  “No,” is my swift and immediate answer.

  “Why not?”

  I lean over on one arm, getting close to the girl who could be a beauty queen. “Pretty sure they don’t want people who did time in their home.”

  She giggles, slapping the bar. “You clearly don’t know my family.”

  “You’d be right, but I remember they weren’t fans of my family.”

  “They like Dylan,” Rosie interjects. “Big fans of him.”

  “Shocking,” I grumble. “But then again, Dylan was a suck-up.”

  Rosie pushes her long hair behind her shoulder, growing rigid. “He’s not a suck-up.”

  “Ass-kisser sound better?” I ask, being a total dickhead.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Rosie asks me.

  “I lack people skills.” I shrug.

  “I ain’t buying your act, Nevin Walsh,” Luna says in a no-nonsense tone.

  “No act,” I tell her. “I am, indeed, an asshole.”

  She leans forward, getting in my space. “A man who’s an asshole wouldn’t serve prison time for his brother.”

  I open my mouth to shoot something back her way, but I have nothing. I’d like to think most people would do it, but none of my other brothers would have for Ian, and they sure as shit wouldn’t do that for me.

  “Cat got your tongue?” she says in a teasing way with a smile that could light up the darkest room.

  “They tried to pin it on me first, and I didn’t lead them to believe otherwise.”

  “But you did the time,” Luna says with a smug smile. “When we know damn well the others wouldn’t have. You’re a good man.”

  I grimace. “I’m not good, Luna. I don’t know how many times I have to go over this with you. Ian is the good one, not me.”

  “You’re right. Ian is a good man, Nevin. But he’s still the one who hit your father in the head. You need to stop thinking of yourself as a criminal and recognize you’re a hero in this situation.”

  Hero is a word that’s never been used to describe me, and nothing they say or do will convince me otherwise.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Rosie mutters under her breath.

  “What?” Luna asks her with round eyes, looking so fucking sweet and innocent. “Where’s the lie, Ro? Would you let me sit in prison if you did something and I took the rap for it?”

  “No.”

  “There ya go.” Luna waves her hand at Rosie. “I know Ian was sick, but you didn’t know how sick he was. Yet you protected him when no one else did. End of story.”

  “Walsh!” the bar owner yells across the room. “Are you working or flirting?”

  “I got to go,” I tell them, grumbling under my breath about the prick who’s now my new boss.

  “Next Sunday. Dinner,” Luna says before I can stalk away.

  “Not happening,” I tell her and make a quick exit, not having the time to argue.

  An hour passes, and Luna and Rosie don’t move off the stools. I’ve given them each one more beer and no more shots.

  “We have to go, Lu. Dylan’s coming to get us.” Rosie slides off the stool and grabs her purse.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  Rosie glares at Luna. “I’m not leaving you here.”

  “Been here plenty of times alone, Ro. I’m fine. I’ll call a ride when I’m ready to leave.”

  Rosie leans over and says something in Luna’s ear.

  “Got it. I promise I’ll text when I get home.”

  Rosie looks down the bar at me and waves before glancing back at her sister. I don’t know if it’s a signal, like I’m supposed to look out for her twin, but I give her a quick chin lift as a goodbye.

  Rosie stalks out of the bar as Luna grabs a bowl of peanuts that were left nearby and goes to town on them. She uses her dark-gray fingernails to pry each one open, dropping the shell into an empty glass.

  Within sixty seconds, a man slides onto the stool her sister vacated.

  Luna doesn’t even look at him as he talks to her, his body facing her direction. He’s half smashed, having been here for more hours than she has and drinking at a faster clip.

  I don’t know if it’s how close he’s sitting to her or the way her body’s leaning away from him, but the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I move a few feet closer, giving her space, but not giving him more than necessary.

  “Come on, Luna You know I can make you feel good,” he says to her, slurring every few words.

  “We’ve been over this before, Oliver. It’s still a hard no.” She tosses another shell into the glass, staring straight ahead, looking like she isn’t affected by his presence. “Never going to happen, just like the fifty other times you’ve hit on me.”

  He touches her arm, but she doesn’t move. “Baby, I got the cure for your sadness. Lemme help work that anger out of you.”

  I turn toward them, watching and listening, ready to pounce.

  She glances down at his legs. “There ain’t nothing in your pants that’s going to put a smile on my face. You may as well move on and stop wasting your time and mine.”

  I chuckle softly. She’s spunky with that side of sunshine. I like that in a chick. Maybe she isn’t all rainbows like I thought when she came by my room a few weeks ago.

  She lifts her beer to her lips, ignoring the guy. But he doesn’t take the hint. He keeps going, and with every passing second, I’m growing more impatient.

  “Why don’t we get out of here and find a place where we can be alone?” he says, running his finger up her arm.

  She doesn’t move, but she glances down where his skin is touching her flesh. “You have thirty seconds to remove your finger from my arm, or the only place you’re going is the emergency room.”

  He laughs, and while he thinks she’s kidding, I suddenly have no doubt she could break his finger in a heartbeat. I remember Luna’s father, and although he’s an asshole, I would put money on the fact that he taught his three daughters how to protect themselves when they ran into slimeballs.

  “Baby, why do you gotta be so cold?” he asks her, not taking the hint or removing his finger. “Is it because your boy toy Ian isn’t here?”

  As if I’m watching in slow motion, Luna snaps, reaching over with her other hand and taking his index finger in her grip. “I asked you nicely to fuck off,” she says, bending his finger back in the most unnatural way until it busts.

  He lurches forward, trying to follow her motion so his finger doesn’t snap clean off. “Please,” he begs like a little bitch.

  Even though I’d like nothing more than to watch her continue to manhandle the asshole, I step around the bar and grab him by the collar. “Out you go, fucker,” I tell him, hauling his ass off the stool.

  “Mind your own fucking business!” he hollers, twisting and trying to fight me off.

  “When you touched her, it became my business.” I drag him with the heels of his shoes scraping against the sticky wooden floor. As soon as I make it to the door, I kick it open and push him outside. “Next time I see your face, I’ll beat your ass.”

  “You’re a little bitch!” he yells, backing away from me when I move forward.

  I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. “Try it, buddy.”

  “Dickhead.” He gives me the middle finger with the hand Luna didn’t mangle before he jogs away into the darkness. I wait a full minute before going back inside, waiting to see if he’ll try anything.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Luna says as soon as I’m back behind the bar. “I had him handled.”

  “Literally,” I mutter with a small laugh. “But it’s my job, Luna. Don’t need guys in here bothering the customers.”

  My reply doesn’t put a smile on her face. I didn’t haul him out because I’m paid to do it; I took his ass out because he was bothering her, and none of it sat well with me.

  “Well, at least you’re doing your job,” she tells me with a sour look.

  “Don’t move from that seat until you’re ready to go,” I tell her, pointing at her spot.

  “And who made you the boss of me?” she asks.

  “Ian.”

  11

  LUNA

  A woman only has so much patience, and mine is quickly running out.

  I can understand Nevin being bitter after wasting his life in prison, but he made that choice, and he’s finally free. Now, he’s hell-bent on making everyone pay, including me.

  “You’re an asshole.” I hop off the stool, so filled with hurt that if my drink were full, I’d throw it in his face.

  “You keep telling me that, and I never deny it.”

  I grab my purse and pull out a fifty, which is more than enough to cover our tab and way too generous of a tip for such a miserable prick. “You can keep being mad at the world, but it won’t change anything except making everyone around you as miserable as you are.”

  “Let me call you a cab,” he offers without an apology, as if we aren’t in the middle of a fight.

  “I can get myself home. I’ve survived this long without your help,” I snap.

  “Luna.” He takes a step forward, but we’re still separated by the bar.

  I put up my hand, done with him. “Save it.”

  “Please.”

  I shake my head, barely able to stand still with the amount of anger welling up inside me. “I hope you enjoy your misery. It’ll be the only thing to keep you company for a while,” I tell him, throwing down my money before heading toward the door.

  “Luna!” Nevin yells as I punch the door handle, taking out my feelings on the hard piece of metal. “Wait.”

  But I don’t stop moving.

  Fuck him.

  How dare he throw Ian’s name in my face. I’ve done nothing to him except try to help and be someone for him to lean on, but no more.

  As soon as I’m in the parking lot, I order a ride home and pace in front of the building like a wild animal.

  “Asshole,” I mutter to myself, curling my lip. “I’m sorry, Ian. I can’t do it.” I lift my face toward the sky, soaking in the stars dotting the firmament above. “I tried, and now he’s on his own. I’m done.”

  The door to the bar swings open, and Nevin stalks out, looking more pissed off than I am, and that’s saying something because I’m stabby. “I said wait,” he barks, huffing loudly.

  I shrug a shoulder, pretending not to give two shits. “Who do you think you are? You don’t get to order me around and think I’ll listen!” I shout, curling my fists at my sides, wishing I could pop him one to knock some damn sense into him.

  He groans, dragging his hand down his face. “Women are fucking impossible.”

  I laugh, sounding a bit crazy, but I don’t care. “I’m impossible?” I touch my chest, jerking my head back. “I’m impossible?” I ask again, this time louder. “You’re the one who’s impossible.”

  “Do you ever stop talking?”

  “I may talk a lot, but—”

  He advances, grabbing my face, and hauls me forward. I don’t have time to react before his lips are on mine, kissing me hard and deep and making my knees go weak.

  My body sways forward as if I crave his touch and have been waiting for this moment my entire life. My brain doesn’t have time to process what’s happening, but my body does, and it’s decided to lean into him and take whatever he’s going to give me.

  The world around us ceases to exist as the air grows thick, but all I can smell is Nevin, and all I feel is him too. My hands find his stomach, resting on the hard muscles of his abdomen. The heat from his body soaks through his thin T-shirt, warming my palms.

  Tiny goose bumps break out across my skin when he slides one of his hands to the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair. Without thinking, I tilt my head, opening my mouth wider to his forceful kiss.

  For a man who hasn’t kissed anyone in damn near a decade, he sure can make a girl’s toes curl.

  This isn’t good.

  Not good at all.

  Before I can push him away, he pulls back, ending the kiss. I instantly miss his heat. “Holy shit,” I whisper, winded by the crazy-stupid kiss, and I nearly double over, hyperventilating.

  When I peer up, Nevin looks as shocked as I feel about the entire situation. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and it’s the first time one of his apologies has sounded sincere.

  I touch my lips as I straighten my back, facing him. “Why would you do that?” I ask, finally coming to terms with the reality that he kissed me.

  Nevin Walsh kissed me, and it wasn’t chaste.

  “I just…” He runs his fingers through his hair, blowing out a long breath. “I thought…”

  “Were you trying to shut me up?”

  He shakes his head. “What? No! Fuck it,” he snaps and spins around. “This was a mistake.” And with that final blow, he stalks back into the bar, leaving me staring at the door in disbelief.

  “Motherfucker,” I hiss, feeling like the man slapped me square in the face.

  A mistake.

  He said I was a mistake.

  Our kiss was a mistake.

  Well, fuck him. It sure didn’t feel like a mistake when he was kissing me so hard my knees wobbled.

  No one—and I mean no one—has ever made that happen.

  My car pulls up as my fingers touch the front door handle, ready to go back inside to give Nevin Walsh another piece of my mind.

  I kick the cinders in the parking lot and pull my hand back to my side, spinning to the car. “He’s not worth it.”

  The second I walk into my apartment, I rip off my top, unhook my bra, and toss it on the couch before stripping off the rest of my clothes. A shower never sounded as good as it does now. Nevin’s scent clings to me as a constant reminder of his cruelty when he walked away from me, leaving my lips buzzing from the kiss.

  My butt hasn’t even hit the couch cushion after my shower before there’s a knock at the door. I don’t move as I stand in my living room wearing nothing except a thin tank top and shorts that are so short, the bottoms of my ass cheeks hang out. I glance around, looking for something, anything to cover up with.

  “Who is it?” I yell out in a panic as I grab a fuzzy pink throw blanket off the couch and wrap it around my middle section like a bath towel.

  “Open up, Luna.”

  Ah. The asshole.

  “Go away, Nevin. I have nothing to say to you, and you sure as hell have nothing I want to hear.”