Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Archer parks by Dusty’s Jeep and thankfully doesn’t coddle me by asking if I’m sure or anything like that. As soon as we approach the door, I hear pounding from inside.
Archer peeks in. “Dust?” he calls out, and the noise stops. Archer holds the door open for me, and we go inside. “We were out for a drive, saw your vehicles here, and thought we’d stop by,” Archer tells the two men standing side by side and staring at us like we’re fucking aliens.
“Something interesting?” I ask.
“Maybe they’re struck dumb by our beauty,” Archer adds.
My heart is beating too fast. I feel dissected, like they’re trying to figure us out, and like if they do, I’ll lose it. I do my best not to let that show, try to steady my breathing and will my heart to slow. “I mean, mine I can see, but I’m not sure you’re on the same level.”
What I don’t expect is Archer’s, “I can see that.”
My surprise must be clear on my face because it snaps Morgan and Dusty out of their trance, making them laugh.
I guess it’s one thing to see me and Archer together after I fuck up, but something else entirely if we’re just hanging out. “I got into trouble again. Archer to the rescue.”
“No, he didn’t. He’s being a brat,” Archer tells them.
“I didn’t think you did something wrong,” Morgan says. “I’m just…glad you’re here. What do you think?” Morgan puts his hands out toward the room. I take it all in, which at the moment doesn’t look like anything except a gutted bar.
“Empty,” I reply.
Morgan chuckles, taking it in stride. “Do you want to see the plans? What it’s going to look like when we’re done?”
There’s a giddy excitement in my brother’s voice that I’ve never heard from him before. It makes me see how passionate Morgan is about this bar, how much he wants it and how much heart he’s going to put into this place.
“Um…yeah. Sure.”
“Come here.” Morgan leads me over to where they have a table set up. I’m not surprised when Dusty rambles off some lie about having to show Archer something. “They think they’re slick,” Morgan teases while I try to ignore the part of me that wants to pull Archer with me.
It’s nothing against my brother. I just don’t know how to be the brother I should be to him, don’t know how I deserve to when I killed our sister. But then, I also have no business depending on Archer that way. I’m already doing it way too much, giving him too many pieces of me, and it’s going to fuck me up even more when this ends.
The plans for the bar are laid out on the table. It’ll be organized differently than it had been before, the counter longer, and a corner with a stage.
“Are you gonna have live music?”
“I’m hoping to. I’m not sure how many gigs we can get here, but maybe on the weekends, or at least one or two weekends a month. I also want to eventually expand the menu. Want a dance floor, but more tables too for different options. There was so much wasted space that just by reorganizing how it’s all set up, there’s a lot more we can do with it.”
Morgan spends time pointing everything out to me, telling me every single plan he has, as if my opinion matters.
It’s gonna be great, El.
I know. Feels like lots of things are falling into place.
“What do you think?” Morgan asks.
“I think this is what you were supposed to do…that you’re gonna make this the best bar in the UP.” I look away because it’s easier than facing him.
“Thank you. That means a lot to me. And like I said before, if you ever want to help with the work…”
“I can do that sometime.”
“Archer too, if the two of you are…”
“Friends,” I fill in for him. I’ve had acquaintances, people I’ve spent time with, but have I ever told someone that another person was my friend? I’ve never felt like I really had one, other than Ella.
“He’s a good one to have,” Morgan says as we’re joined by the other two men, who must be done giving us our moment.
“Morgan is trying to put us to work,” I tell Archer.
“I’m okay with that.” His response isn’t a surprise. “You gonna have Cass help?”
“I’m planning on it. I’ve talked to him about it a little bit. I’ve even tried to get ahold of Rhett, but he’s still not interested in talking to me.” Morgan reaches over and takes Dusty’s hand as if he’s drawing support from him.
My gaze holds on where they’re touching, making me think about how Archer playfully asked to do the same with me earlier today. How is it so easy for Morgan to give himself to Dusty, when so many of my traumas are ones we share? What is it about me that just doesn’t know how to do the things everyone else does?