Shame flashes momentarily through her stormy blue eyes, but she quickly blinks it away and replaces it with stubbornness. “So? What business is it of his, or yours for that matter, what I do or who I do it with? I think somewhere between you calling me a whore and sleeping with trash from the bar, you lost that right.”

“Hudson, please.” Swallowing up the distance between us in one stride, I lift a hand to her face and brush the pad of my thumb across her cheek, my heart swelling with hope when she doesn’t jerk away from my touch again. “Please, hear me out. I have so much to say to you. I need to apologize and—”

“Crew!” Danny shouts with his head sticking out the backdoor, drawing both mine and Hudson’s attention to him. “I’m drowning in here, dude. I need your ass inside now. Oh, hey, Hudson!” He smiles and waves when he sees his niece, his eyes hone in on where I’m cupping her face in my hand. “Sorry to interrupt whatever’s going on, but we’re getting slammed. I need Crew inside.”

“No problem, Uncle Danny,” she calls out to him while putting space between us. “I set that container Grams had me drop off just inside the room there.”

He tips his chin in acknowledgement and thanks her, then slips back inside, allowing the door to close behind him. Our eyes lock onto each other again, but before I can continue on with my unplanned speech, she holds her hand up in the air to stop me.

“You need to get inside, and it isn’t the time or place to do this. If you want to talk later, you know where to find me.” Her voice is thick with melancholy as she backpedals toward her car.

Nodding in frustration, I watch her climb in the driver’s seat and start the car. Then, as she drives off away from me, the determination inside me spikes and I know exactly what I need to do to get her back.

That evening, when I arrive at the apartment, I’m completely drained from the lack of sleep the night before, the unexpected run-in with Hudson, and working pretty much nonstop for ten straight hours. I think every pot-smoker in the state of Colorado hit up the shop today; I literally couldn’t keep the display cases stocked fast enough for the rate Danny was selling it.

Tossing my wallet and keys into the bowl on the bar, I flop onto the couch with a groan, too tired to even get up and fix something for dinner. My stomach growls angrily with disapproval at my plan for a foodless evening, but I ignore it for the time being. Maybe after a nap…

“Crew? Is that you, man?” Rory hollers from behind the closed door of his bedroom.

I want to say something clever or funny back to him, but my brain has checked out. “Yeah, it’s me!” I shout back.

His door swings open and he saunters out in a pair of sweats, an old beat-up t-shirt, and hair looking like he hasn’t gotten out of bed all day. Stretching his arms up in a big yawn, he shuffles over to the refrigerator and grabs the milk, drinking straight from the jug. I make a mental note to purchase all of my own drinks in the future.

“I thought you were working tonight,” I state, not bothering to move from my planked position.

He smacks his lips together and nods, shooting me a wicked grin. “I knew after being up all night and morning there was no way I’d have the patience or energy to put up with the rowdy day-after-Christmas crew, so I switched shifts with Dustin. Now I work tomorrow instead.”

“Yeah, I noticed your Jeep was missing outside when I left for work this morning. I’m assuming you had a good time after I left last night,” I probe.

Smirking, he circles around the bar and heads back into the living room, falling back into his favorite chair. “Dakota proved to be a little better than a good time.”

I shoot up to a sitting position, suddenly wide awake. “Dakota?! Are you fucking serious?”

“Shit, calm the fuck down, dude. We had sex. That’s it. It was cool. She was cool. Everything’s cool.”

“But that’s Hudson’s sister,” I argue, scrubbing my hands over my face. “What if she—”

“Nothing,” he cuts me off. “What if she nothing. What happened between Dakota and me is between us. We’re both very clear on what it was and what it wasn’t. Neither you nor Hudson has anything to do with it, but I do hope that your caveman rescue mission last night helped earn your way back into her good graces.”

Swallowing back the shock of his Dakota news and the concerns I have about it one day affecting me and Hudson, I shake my head. “I wouldn’t say I’m in her ‘good graces’ by a long shot, but we’re at least speaking…I think.”

He laughs hard. “You think?”

“Well, after I took her home, I talked to her grandma for a while, and she really helped put some things in perspective for me,” I admit. “Then this morning, Hudson unexpectedly stopped by the shop, and although she didn’t remember anything about last night, nor was she too happy to learn I’d taken her home, she did tell me if I wanted to talk, I knew where to find her.”

“So what the fuck is your ass doing here? Go get your girl.”

“I can’t just barge into her house and demand she accept my apology and take me back. I’ve gotta show her how sorry I am—grovel a bit and prove myself to her. Ya know?”

Nodding, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What’s your plan then?”

I lift my hips off the couch cushion and dig inside my pocket, retrieving the plastic bag of weed and pack of papers Danny sold me after hours. Lobbing them onto the coffee table, an optimistic smile spreads across my face, stretching from ear to ear.

“This,” I announce proudly.

He stares down at the items on the table then looks back up at me, his forehead crinkled with confusion. “You’re gonna get her so high that she forgives you?”

“Nah, much, much better than that,” I chuckle, “but I am gonna need you to teach me how to roll a joint.”

I don’t bother going to my sisters’ place after I leave The Green Halo. I’m not sure I want to know any more details about how I acted like a fucking idiotic whore last night. Plus, I’m pissed at them for allowing Crew to haul me away from the party like I’m a small child who can’t take care of herself. It was their idea I go and try to drink and flirt him out of my system anyway.

Traitors.

Sleep is my only friend right now. My body is revolting against me. My mind is refusing to process information. My heart is an unrealistic bitch. And everyone else can go screw go themselves.

Clicking my phone into the off position, I throw it and my other stuff onto my nightstand and face-plant onto my bed, even passing up smoking. Maybe if I sleep for twenty-four hours, I’ll feel better. Maybe I’ll wake up to find out the past couple of months have all been a dream. A beautiful, heartbreaking dream.

Dark silence blankets the room when I finally open my groggy eyes, and as I twist to read the alarm clock, my jaw falls open, shocked. Three-fifty-five! I’ve slept for almost sixteen hours straight, not even bothering to eat or go to the bathroom.

I untangle myself from the knot of sheets I’m twisted into as the palms of my hands push down and back into the mattress, thrusting me up into a sitting position. I blink hard several times, clearing away the translucent film, and allow my vision to come into focus.

Clenching and releasing my fists, scissoring my legs on top of the blanket, and rolling my head around to pop my neck, I discover the sleep immensely improved the way I feel physically, though my head is still a bit foggy. As I swing my legs over the side of the bed, an incensed growl echoes inside my neglected stomach, causing me to move food to the top of my list, right after I brush and flush.