5
Quincy
I glance up from the pint glass I’m filling at the tap, my heart racing as a tall blonde guy walks into the brewery.
Not him.
Dammit. I’ve had the same reaction every time a handsome blonde guy has walked through the doors of Cedar Ridge Brewery in the past week. That one-night stand with “sexy stranger,” as I’ve been calling him, really messed me up; my thoughts are all over the place. Part of me longs to run into him again, but I’m also a little scared that seeing each other in the daylight might ruin the fantasy I’ve built up around that night. Right now, I’m holding onto that memory—it’s become my favorite daydream.
I’ll never forget his face, the way he touched me, or how that hard muscle felt under my hands. Not to mention the intensity of his gaze as I fell apart under him. Clinton who? That jerk feels like a distant memory now. He never made me feel the way my sexy stranger did; Clinton is just a boy, while that guy was all man.
I snap back to reality, startled as cold liquid splashes onto my wrist. “Shit,” I mutter, quickly pushing the tap back to stop the beer from spilling over onto my hand.
“What’s got you distracted today?” Kyara teases as she walks up, tossing a bar towel my way.
I pour a little of the overflowing beer into the drain under the tap, then pick up the towel to wipe the pint glass before setting it down. “I’m not distracted,” I lie, wiping my hands.
I glance at Kyara, and she has her hands on her hips, giving me a knowing look. We both know I’m just pretending.
I finish drying my hands and fling the damp towel in her direction. She snatches it out of the air, using the same hand to point a finger at me. “Just tell me it isn’t Clinton.”
“It’s not Clinton!” I sigh exasperatedly. “I told you before, your little mission totally worked. I’m over that jerk.”
“Then what is it?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.
I don’t want to admit that I’m done obsessing over how things ended with Clinton because I’ve moved on to obsessing over sexy stranger instead, so I go with a deflection.
“If you must know,” I begin, blowing out a breath, “one of my friends stopped by yesterday to ask if I’d consider joining the IT unit at the squad.”
“And?” Kyara steps closer, her interest piqued.
I shrug, twirling a strand of hair around a finger. “And I’m considering it, I guess.”
Kyara’s eyebrows shoot up.
I swallow, continuing. “I mean, I was interested in going out for the squad after high school, but I put everything on hold because Clinton asked me to stick around. And now that we’re over… well, it kinda seems like the perfect opportunity to get away from it all, right? To start over?”
“So what’s there to consider?” Kyara laughs, folding her arms across her chest. “It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”
“I don’t know,” I sigh. “I don’t think my dad would be a fan of me moving out, for one. It’s just the two of us at the packhouse.”
Kyara nods sympathetically. I told her a while ago about how my mom died in an accident when I was eight, and now every time I allude to it just being me and my dad, she gets this sad look in her eyes. I know she means well, but I also kinda hate the look of pity. I’ve been getting that same look for the past ten years every time someone mentions my mom, and honestly, it has tainted her memory a little bit. I don’t want to be sad when I think about her- I want to think of how joyful and vibrant and loving she was.
I guess everybody processes things differently. My brother Thomas hasn’t ever been the same since Mom died; it seems like he’s mad at the world and takes it out on everyone around him. He and my dad don’t get along, so Thomas doesn’t come around much. It’s a shame, really- I wish I was closer to my brother and that we could lean on one another more. We’ve got shared trauma, after all… our mother’s death will always be a part of us.
As if she’s reading my mind, Kyara asks “but isn’t your brother on the squad?”
I give a little nod. “Yeah, but we aren’t super close.”
The five-year age gap could account for some of that, but it’s mostly the fact that Thomas moved out when he turned eighteen and rarely comes back. His life is the squad, now.
“Well if your dad’s cool with him being on the squad, he’s gotta be okay with you doing it, right?” Kyara shrugs.
“It’s a little more nuanced than that.” I don’t really know how to explain all of my family drama to Kyara, nor do I really want to delve into it, so instead I grab the glass of beer that I just overpoured off of the bar. “Gotta deliver this quick.”
I walk away, bringing the beer over to a guy sitting by himself at table eight. Kyara checks on her own tables, and by the time we’re both back behind the bar, she’s back to interrogating me.
“So is that the only reason you’d turn it down?” she asks, leaning an elbow on the bar top. “Your dad?”
I sigh, sliding my hands into the back pockets of my black shorts. “There’s also the fact that Clinton’s best friend is on the squad.”
Kyara narrows her eyes. “So? Wouldn’t you rather chance running into Clinton’s bestie than Clinton himself?”
Can’t argue with her on that one.
“And didn’t you tell me once thatyourbest friend is on the squad?” she asks, pointing a finger at me.
“Yeah, joined last year,” I say, and I can’t help but smile at the thought of my closest friend and the prospect of us getting to see each other every day again.
Kyara throws up her hands. “So I’m not seeing the problem here! You should go for it, girl. It sounds like you want to, you’re just making excuses. Clinton’s not holding you back anymore, so why are you holding yourself back?”
I stare at my friend, a little dumbfounded. She’s right- Ihavebeen making excuses. Ever since my friend Bianca stopped by the packhouse yesterday to ask me to join the squad’s IT unit with her, I’ve been busy coming up with reasons why I shouldn’t. I don’t like change, but maybe Kyara’s right; maybe this is the fresh start I need. Maybe I need to stop being so damn stubborn and just take it.
“I’m thinking about joining up, myself,” Kyara says nonchalantly, reaching for the bar towel and wiping up a wet spot on the bar top.
I grin, folding my arms and leaning idly against the counter. “Oh yeah?” I’m picturing little Kyara training as a fighter- as amusing as it is, she’d probably be amazing since she’s scrappy as hell. Girl is small but fierce.
“Didn’t you hear?” She tosses the towel back down, her lips turning up into a mischievous smile. “There’s gonna be an open call for the squad. No cuts or anything, just a month of training to build up a reserve squad.”
Well that’s news to me. You’d think as the daughter of an alpha and the sister of one of the squad leaders, I’d be more in the loop.
I give a little shake of my head. “I hadn’t heard. Wait, are youactuallyconsidering it? Because that would be a game changer…” I start talking faster, my excitement building. “If you did it, I’d totally go, Ky… say you’ll do it?”
The idea of leaving behind everything I know and moving up to the complex is daunting- but having Kyara with me would make it so much better. She has been my rock this summer, especially after everything went down with Clinton. She never judged, just listened.
Kyara chuckles, rolling her eyes. “I said I was thinking about it, didn’t I? Tony has been talking about joining up and there’s no way I’m letting him go away for a month without me.”
And speaking of toxic relationships…
“If you go, I’ll go,” I say, waggling my eyebrows.
To my surprise, I’m actually feeling kind of excited about this now. My dad should be fine- he’s got a brand new beta that’s considering moving into the packhouse, so he may not be alone there after all. And if I go live at the squad complex, I’ll be able to spend more time with my brother and maybe even develop the strong sibling bond with him that I’ve always wanted. And I’ve already got a few friends up there; Kyara coming would be the icing on the cake.
“I’m still deciding, butyou’redefinitely going,” Kyara says, stepping closer to me. She sets her hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes. “You need this, Quincy. You know this is the right move.”
I press my lips together in a tight line, giving a little nod of my head. “You’re right. I’m gonna do it.”
Kyara squeals, jumping up and down excitedly like a little kid. “Yay! I’m so glad!”
I can’t help but grin at her enthusiasm. It’s nice to have a supportive friend like her.
I glance out at my tables in the brewery, suddenly remembering that I probably need to go check in on them. “We’d better get back to it,” I mumble.
Kyara composes herself, taking a breath and tucking her shoulder-length blonde hair behind her ears. “You’re right. If these are our last few days working here together, we need to make them count.” She tosses me a wink, turning to walk away. “Oh, and Quincy?” she calls over her shoulder.
“Hm?”
A devilish grin flits across her face. “I’ll take the table with your sexy stranger lookalike.”
My cheeks heat.So she knew the source of my distraction all along!
“Whatever,” I laugh, rolling my eyes exaggeratedly.
Busted.