On The Rocks

Even after five years, the mere fact that she called me Gabs causes my stomach to tighten at the memory of Hunter calling me that. I’m surprised that Casey does so now, because that name was only used by Hunter. He had been calling me that since I was a kid.

Shaking my head, I turn to Alyssa. “Let me get a serious opinion. What do you think?”

Alyssa gives me a confident smile. “It’s wonderful, Gabby. Truly. I think Hunter is going to be very impressed.”

“Really?” I ask, hopeful that I truly have a shot at this. “You’re not just saying that?”

“Really,” she assures me.

“Absolutely,” Casey chimes in. “Hunter will be blown away. Plus, he’s always had a soft spot for you. He’ll give you preference just because of that.”

I can’t stop myself from practically sneering. “He most certainly doesn’t have a soft spot for me.”

Casey raises her eyebrows. “He does, although I’m not sure why. It’s like the minute you turned eighteen, all of your friendly joking around with him took a nosedive, and y’all are just at each other’s throats whenever you’re around each other.”

That much is true. While Hunter traveled much of the year, he was always home for a few months during his off-season between December and March. I always tried to stay out of his way, but seeing as how Casey and I are best friends, it was inevitable I would run into him on occasion. During those times, I will admit… he tried to be nice. But I was always snapping at him, or saying something condescending. He would be surprised at first, but then he’d give back as good as I gave him. Before you knew it, we were always fighting like cats and dogs. Over the years, it sort of became natural, and while we did our best to avoid each other, when we couldn’t help having contact, it was never very pleasant for any involved.

The only interaction that didn’t involve spiteful words was when my dad died. Hunter surprised me by coming home for the funeral, even though he was heavy into the tour. My catty comments sort of stuck deep in my throat when he came up to me at the funeral and pulled me into a hug. He rested his chin on top of my head and quietly said, “I’m so sorry, Gabs. I loved your father, too.”

I couldn’t help the tears that formed in my eyes over his kind words, and I wanted to hate him in that moment, but I just couldn’t. Instead, I pulled away without saying anything, walked over to my mom, and never left her side after that. Hunter never approached me again, and then he left the next day. After that, we were back to fighting like normal.

Breaking into my thoughts, Casey says, “I know you two don’t particularly care for each other, but he always asks about you. Every email or time he’s ever called, he always asks how “Gabs” is doing. He does care for you, even if he doesn’t know how to show it.”

I mentally snort to myself, and then throw in a mental eye roll just for good measure. Gah… if Casey ever knew the depth of my anger toward Hunter, she’d be stunned. But she would never know that because I would never admit to her that I used to love her jackass of a brother and then had my heart broken by him.

That would be my secret until I went to the grave.

Now, all I had to do was be nice to him for the potential hour it would take me to make my bid and answer any questions he might have. It would kill me, but I would be polite and professional. I would make him see that I was the best person for the job… my lack of a penis be damned.





I sit at the bar and watch my brother as he carries case after case of beer from the storeroom and stocks the coolers. He’s methodical yet efficient as he stacks bottle after bottle.

He’s also quiet.

So fucking quiet.

Closing my eyes, I try to remember the Brody that left for prison because he killed a man. Happy, funny, and lighthearted. I wonder if I’ll ever see that man again, and my heart shrivels just considering the possibility that he’s gone forever.