Beg, Borrow, or Steal (When in Rome, #3)(69)

I want Jackson here too.

The thought strikes me like lightning. I look to the door and watch a few more people filter in—a group who have to put their cigarettes out outside the door before entering. None of them are Jackson.

James and I sit here and sip our drinks in silence as the bar hums to life. I can tell it’s going to be a wild night. Every now and then there’s a full moon and people seem to come out of the woodwork. Hank’s is very much a local hotspot, but it’s grown in popularity for the surrounding towns too. Everyone comes here. Everyone except one new town citizen, it seems . . .

Why is he not here? I invited him.

I glance at the door every time it opens. The fifth time this happens, James calls me out on it.

“Who are you looking for?”

“Hm?”

“You heard me just fine.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not looking for anyone.”

“I invited him too.”

I give away my eagerness when my head whips in his direction. “You did? When?”

He grins. “Funny how you know exactly who I’m talking about.” He swigs his beer. “This morning. I ran into him in town while I was dropping off an order at the market. That okay?”

I fiddle with my beer and look over my shoulder annoyed when someone jostles me as they pass by. “Yeah. It’s fine.” Better than fine. I’m glad he did. I’m sure I made Jackson happy. “So . . . do you know if he’s coming, then?”

James leans on the counter, dipping his head to catch my eye. “Quit it.”

“Quit what?”

“Quit hiding. Quit protecting yourself so damn much.”

“Excuse me?” I say, making sure he hears the agitation in my voice.

“Just go text him and ask why he’s not here if you want him to be. There’s no shame in laying out your feelings for people to see.” He picks up his beer. “Trust me—if you hold out too long, you might miss your opportunity.”

“When the hell did you become a walking fortune cookie? And what opportunity did you—”

“Come on, let’s go back to the table. They’re done swapping slobber,” he says, cutting me off and leaving me to wonder if that statement was about Maddie. Surely not. Those two have been like siblings. They bicker and make fun of each other and . . .

That’s exactly what I’ve been doing with Jackson all these years.

Beer in hand, I return to the table with my back to the door intentionally. I don’t need to keep track of who enters. It’s a useless waste of energy and I won’t allow myself to do it. I force myself to focus on talking with my siblings—but even that gets more difficult as the bar reaches an all-time-high noise grade. It’s not my imagination that it’s getting more packed in here by nonregulars either, because Amelia casually reaches into her purse and pulls out one of Noah’s baseball hats. She slouches into Noah’s side, and he puts an arm around her. Incognito mode initiated.

Normally we would all be a few beers in by now, but the place is severely understaffed tonight. There’s only one waitress and . . . “Dammit. Hank is bartending tonight,” I say, but no one hears me. I hate when everyone calls out of work the same night and makes Hank bartend. The man needs a double knee replacement but refuses to get it. Nights like this on his feet for too long put him in a lot of pain.

Noah draws our attention, raising his voice over the music and noise. “Uh—so listen, guys. While we’re all pretty much here, Amelia and I have some news.”

Rocks drop into the pit of my stomach because I don’t think I can take any more news tonight. I’m in a bad mood now from the overly crowded atmosphere and because Jack hasn’t shown up or bothered to text to say he’s not going to make it. And more importantly, I think I know what this news is about.

Smile, mouth, smile.

I hold my breath as Amelia picks up where he left off. “Well . . . as y’all know, my label wants me to tour for my upcoming album after taking the last one off. And . . . I’ve decided that I want to as well.”

Don’t drop the smile.

I see Noah squeeze her shoulder as he looks down at her with a smile. “And I’m going to go with her. For the entire duration of it this time. I don’t want to miss out on it, and now that Grandma isn’t . . .” He trails off and there’s a moment of gut-wrenching emotion that hits us all. “Well, anyway. It’s a good time for it.”

I force myself to smile even wider—it’s bordering on clownish. My lungs are broken, however. I can’t breathe.

My grandma is gone. My sister has moved away. My baby sister is getting married and who knows what changes that’s going to bring. Now my brother is leaving too.

The busy bar moves at half speed around me. Annie leans over and hugs Amelia, telling her how happy she is for her that she gets to tour again and assuring her they will come visit a lot on tour. Will says something about how weird it will be not acting as her bodyguard for this tour. And James and Noah are having a side conversation that looks positive. And me. I’m smiling. So big that sweat is starting to collect on the base of my spine.

In the past, I would have chosen this moment to voice my panic. To tell Noah not to go and that we need him here. That I need him here—though I’d never admit it like that. I’d blame it on Grandma. On the pie shop. On anything that I could possibly sink my fearful claws into to get him to stay. But not anymore.