“So, you want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing?” my younger brother, Nate, asked, a scowl on his face.
“None of your fucking business,” I countered, pushing past him to my car. “Where the hell are you parked?”
“I got a lift here. Heard you were fighting from a buddy who recognized you and texted me to get my ass here. I thought I should be able to drive your car back to your place if I had to carry you out of there.”
“I take it you were inside?”
“Yep.”
“Then you know there’s nothing to worry about,” I growled.
“Whatever you say. But we still need to talk.”
“We don’t.” Shame crawled over me, and I hated myself. What had Nate seen? Would he tell everybody else? Jesus Christ, I couldn’t do this right now.
Or ever.
“Come on, we’re going to get some coffee, and we’re going to talk about this.”
“I don’t need to talk about this,” I said.
“We do. I’m not going to tell the others, but you and I need to talk. I don’t care if you get pissy about it, but you’re my brother, and I love you. And you’re going to fucking listen to me.”
“Nate.”
“No. I’m done. Come on. We’re going to go get some coffee.”
Worry slid over me. “Where exactly are we getting coffee?
“You know where we are going.” Nate paused and gave me a knowing glance. “If it helps, she’s not working tonight.”
I swallowed hard, trying not to think her name. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Whatever. You’re not very good at lying, you know.”
“And you’re driving me because I don’t want to call my Uber.”
“I can’t believe you fucking Ubered here,” I said, knowing that Nate was stubborn enough that he wouldn’t let this go.
“I do what I have to do. Now, come on, I want coffee and a Danish.”
“Danishes are for breakfast. She’s probably not going to have them at her place.”
“She might. And look at you, thinking of her instead of the shop.”
“Fuck you,” I growled, tossing my bag into the back before getting into my truck and starting the engine.
I headed to the Boulder Bean and parked in the back, grateful there was a space. The fight had been an early one, and they had closed up for the night since it was still a weekday. That meant the bakery was still open, despite the owner not being there.
At least, I hoped she wasn’t here. I wasn’t sure if I could face her all bruised and aching like this. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t sure I could face her at all. And that was part of the problem.
We made our way into the café, taking a seat near the window. I didn’t want my back to the door. Nate didn’t seem to mind, but he did notice the hesitation. Regardless, he just gave me a look before shaking his head.
“I’m going to get us some coffees. What do you want?”
“Just a regular. Black.”
“You’re so boring,” Nate said, grinning, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He was worried about me.
And I was fucked.
“Thanks for the brew,” I growled. He made his way to the counter, the two of us occupying one of the two full tables in the café. The place was about to close soon, and I knew I should’ve just gone home. I could have even taken Nate with me so we could hash things out, but even though I wouldn’t admit it, I’d wanted to come here on the off chance that I’d see her.
Because I was a fucking glutton for punishment. If I weren’t, maybe I wouldn’t be in the ring at all. Things wouldn’t hurt as much as they did. Hell, I just wanted things to get back to normal.
I wanted to see her.
Only she wasn’t here. And even if she were, she’d likely take one look at me and run, just like she always did.
“Macon?” a familiar voice asked. I froze, my whole body snapping to attention, my throat going dry.
I looked up to see her. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face in a messy bun, her creamy complexion rosy after a long day, her thick black glasses perched on the tip of her nose as if she had been reading and hadn’t wanted to bother with her contacts. The fact that I knew she wore contacts most of the time should probably worry me, but it didn’t.
Because I was a masochist when it came to Dakota, the woman I couldn’t have, the female who wanted nothing to do with me. She had made it very clear that she didn’t want me in her life, and yet, all I did was want more.
Because I was a fucking loser.
“Hey, Nate’s getting me some coffee.”
She studied my face as if waiting for me to say more. “Okay, you want to tell me what happened?”
“Nothing,” I lied.
“You have blood on your knuckles and a bruise on your jaw. What happened? Who hurt you?”
I heard the fear in her voice and wanted to kick myself. I shouldn’t have come here, even on the off chance that she would be here. It didn’t matter that I wanted to see her.
Because I knew she was running from something. Given what had happened to our friends, and what she never spoke about when it came to her past, seeing me bruised would only bring back the horror of what neither of us wanted to talk about.
I was going to hell, and it was my own damn fault.
“Nothing. Just a long day.”
“At work? You’re saying a dog or a cat did this?”
“I do work with large animals sometimes if I have to go out to a farm and one of the other vets I
