“I’ll cover for you two,” Jeremy said, so Brynn followed Jamie behind the bar.
He didn’t even serve hard alcohol here, though he did have the license for it. Hell, the wine was brought in special just for the party. A brew house was meant to serve beer. If patrons came looking for anything other, Jamie was fine if they didn’t come back. But every now and then, an opportunity presented itself that required a little something extra, and tonight was one of those nights.
They both dropped to a crouch, and Jamie reached a hand to the back of a small shelf, producing a 750 ml bottle of Jack and two shot glasses.
“Just like high school,” Brynn said, leaning an elbow against the shelf for balance. Jack Daniels was Jamie’s dad’s go-to drink. There was always a bottle in the house, which meant there was always enough for them to sneak a shot on certain occasions.
“Just like high school,” Jamie echoed, and he let himself remember, for a moment, what it felt like to look at Brynn with possibility. Like they had everything ahead of them and that maybe, someday—just for a moment… Then he let it pass.
He filled each glass to the line, and they clinked a messy “Cheers,” whiskey dribbling on to the tips of their fingers.
Jamie cleared his throat and steadied his voice. “I hope you find what you’re looking for tonight, B.”
All he really wanted was for his friend to be happy, and she hadn’t been, not like she was when she was a kid. The Sleepy Jean he knew since their teen years had lost her spark of hope. Tonight was the first time, probably in years, that he’d seen that fire lit in her again, and he hoped he had something to do with that, even if she’d never admit it.
“Thank you, James,” she said as her grin widened. “I hope I do, too.”
They threw back the shots, Jamie unprepared for the severity of heat that burned its way down his esophagus. Come to think of it, the infrequency of their Jack Daniels shots in recent years made it so he never got used to it.
And then, in her best—meaning world’s worst—German accent, Brynn declared, “Now’s zee time on Sprockets ven ve dance!”
He laughed, loving the sight of that glint in her eye, even if it meant she was taking the express lane to buzzville. They stood just in time to see Jeremy checking in a group that had come up the stairs. He wasn’t sure who saw who first, but when Brynn grabbed his hand and squeezed, he knew it was the last he’d see of her until it was time to go home. And without warning, something equally strong yet long ignored squeezed inside his chest.
“Brynn? Brynn Chandler? Is that you?”
Jamie was wrong. He could handle everything up until now just fine. But hearing that voice and watching Brynn turn toward it—it was like something out of It’s a Wonderful Life. He was about to witness what would have happened had the kiss between him and Brynn never occurred. Tonight events would play out like he assumed Brynn wished they had, and he would have to stand by and let them. He had no claim on her. Jesus, every part of this night was a sense memory taking him back, and the night had barely even begun.
Shit. Even Jamie had to admit the guy was freakishly good-looking—blond hair, blue eyes, and a goddamn California tan. That would have been enough, but the dude was wearing a suit that only a guy from L.A. could pull off—trim and tailored—even if said guy wasn’t really from there at all. But Spencer had lived in L.A. since he left for college, and there was no doubt that the California sun agreed with him.
I have blue eyes, Jamie thought, then wanted to throat punch himself for his jealousy.
He poured another shot. Okay maybe it was two. He kept telling himself that he was a completely different person than he was a decade ago. He owned his own business. He had just met a great girl. But then, that had never really been the problem. He met girls easily enough and had been in his fair share of committed relationships. What didn’t come easily, though, was the whole falling in love part, and he had always assumed it was because he was protecting himself, outsmarting heartbreak by never truly giving his heart to someone else.
Jamie shook his head and laughed quietly. He just had to make it through tonight, just a few hours surrounded by memories and decade-old feelings. He loved Brynn, but he wasn’t in love with her anymore. Yet as he tried to fast-forward through how the evening would play out between Brynn and Spencer, he found it hard to breathe.
This is what you wanted, asshole, to just be friends. Well, it’s what seventeen-year-old Jamie needed, to keep her in his life. The only other option was to risk losing her completely, and he wouldn’t have survived that.