Page 2 of A Fighting Chance

“You don’t look okay.” She frowns. “Did you get hurt when you fell?”

“I will probably have big ass bruises on my knees in the morning,” I laugh as I shove her shoulder lightly trying to get her attention off me. “But I’m fine. I promise.”

Lila assesses me for a moment but doesn’t push. She knows I will tell her when I feel like it. “Let’s get a drink.”

“Here?” I ask dubiously.

“Hell no!” She laughs as she grabs my hand and tows me through the throngs of people and out the door. “We’re going to Lucille’s.”

“I can’t.” I stop dead in my tracks.

“Why not?” She looks confused when I won’t budge.

“It’s a long story,” I mumble.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake Mercedes!” she yells, her exasperation clear. “We all grew up. Things have changed.”

“Have they?” I raise an eyebrow at her.

“Well yes and no. Lucille no longer runs the bar, Xander took over. But that’s beside the point. You can’t just avoid them forever. You need to face this head-on. You’re bound to run into each of them soon enough either way. You’re living in your old house for crying out loud. Why not get it over with?”

“Do we have to do this tonight?” I sigh as I get in the passenger seat of her little blue car, already knowing her answer.

“Yes.” She nods. “Just rip the band-aid off and all that shit. Besides, they could be happy to see you.”

“I doubt it.”

Chapter Two

Alistair

Irarely drink but I do need a drink tonight. After grabbing a shower to wash off the sweat and lust, I jump on my Harley and head straight over to Lucille’s. The bar has been in our family since before we were born. My father always wanted a bar of his own, so he built one. And used my momma’s name to christen it. He passed when we were little, and momma just kept it going. But now that all her boys are grown, she has taken to sitting on her back porch, complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have any grandbabies, and Xander has taken over running the bar.

Each of us chips in to help where we can but most of us have our own shit to do. I opened House of Ink, the local tattoo parlor with Malichai. Lucian works at the bar when he isn’t studying to become a doctor and our youngest brother, Damian, does the books for both businesses. He’s some kind of genius, the little fucker.

We have always been close and even though we have grown up, we still are. Mercedes used to be part of that dynamic. But then she grew up and she wasn’t just another playmate. She became my greatest fantasy. The girl that turned me inside out if I just thought of her. And being a kid, I didn’t know how to cope with that, so I pushed her away, and as a result, so did my brothers.

One day we were all laughing and joking in the back yard and in the blink of an eye we were helping her load a moving truck. I never forgave myself for not taking a chance and trying to get the girl of my dreams. One thing is for sure, she isn’t the girl of my dreams anymore. She is all woman now.

My drive over to the bar is filled with thoughts of Mercedes, trying to figure out how to get her to give me the time of day. When I pull up, the parking lot is filled to the brim. But what else would you expect when we are the only bar in town? Shutting down my bike, I walk around the building and enter from the back. Lucian is probably going to need some help behind the bar tonight.

What I’m not expecting is to find Mercedes behind the bar when I walk in. She is slinging drinks just like she did when we were younger.

“What the fuck?” I ask loudly.

Both Mercedes and Lucian turn to look at me.

“It was busy,” she says returning to the guy in front of her. “Lucian was slammed and Xander is locked up in his office.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lucian gag. “Laura’s here,” he says by way of explanation. “Supposedly to help me out but they’ve been gone for the better part of an hour.”

Shit. Since my oldest brother finally gave in and got the girl he has always loved this has been an issue. He can’t keep his hands off her. I can’t begrudge him though. If I could get my hands on Mercedes, I would probably never let her go.

“Well, I’m here now,” I grumble.

I have no idea why I am acting like an asshole. This is exactly what I wanted. The opportunity to talk to her again. Everything about her knocks me on my ass and suddenly I feel like a hormonal teenager all over again. And the cycle continues.

“And you can watch the door,” Mercedes throws over her shoulder. “Blake’s kid fell and needed stitches. He just left. So, there is no bouncer tonight.”