A Little Too Late (Madigan Mountain #1)(38)

Her eyes flash with anger, and I want to kick myself for saying that.

But seriously. What is she doing in Colorado?

She props a hand on her hip and lets it fly. “I came all this way to tell you you’re an ass, and that we’re finished dating. But also to ski. I broke into your apartment to get that book I lent you, because I was too pissed off to let you keep it. And while I was there, I noticed you had a stack of Madigan Mountain passes on your desk. Some of them were about to expire. So I took some.”

Ava gasps. I whip around to see if she’s okay.

She is not. Her eyes are wide, and her face is red, and I know exactly what she’s about to do even before she does it.

“I’ll just…” she mutters. “See you later.” She turns on her heel and hurries back the way we came.

Well, shit. This is ten kinds of awkward for two different women, and all of it is my fault.

Harper pauses her rant to track Ava with sharp eyes. “Okay, who’s that?”

“My ex,” I admit as we both watch Ava make a fast escape. I want to run after her. But I owe Harper an apology that probably can’t wait.

“Interesting,” Harper says slowly. “You’ve never mentioned an ex. Not once.”

I flinch. “You know when people say it ended badly? Well, we practically invented it.”

Her brown eyes return to mine. “Your fault, I assume?”

“Of course.”

She snorts. “Maybe you’d better go after her, Reed. She looks spooked.”

“I’ll do that in a bit. I have unfinished business with a lot of people, it turns out. A lot of apologies to make.” I’m almost good at it now. “Let me buy you a drink, Harper. You can yell at me before Ava gets another turn.”

She actually smiles as she shrugs her shoulders. “Okay. Lead the way.”

I grab her suitcase and lead her over to the bar, where I’m hoping Ava’s friend Halley is not on duty.

She’s not, but unfortunately, the man wearing an apron behind the bar is my own damn father.

Fuck my life.

“Reed! Who’s this?” he asks, polishing a beer stein.

“Dad, this is Harper. We, uh, were recently dating.”

Harper snorts. “Very recently. But not anymore.”

“That seems to happen to Reed,” my father says, even though he doesn’t have the first idea about it. “What can I pour you? I’m filling in here for a few minutes while the bartender calls his grandma.”

Harper orders a glass of cabernet, and I ask for a beer. As soon as it lands on the bar, I look Harper in the eye and apologize again for my thoughtlessness. “It was bad form not to call you the second I knew I was leaving town. I’m sorry.”

She rolls her eyes. “I accept your apology. Unless you were making a booty call to screw your ex. In which case you’re an even bigger asshole than I knew.”

Ouch. I might even deserve that. “I didn’t know she was here. But, uh, it turns out we have some things to resolve. If I haven’t totally borked that up already.”

“Honestly, whatever it is, fix it. This whole chilly thing you’ve got going on gets old after a while.”

I flinch.

“You never lied to me, Reed. You said right up front that you were just interested in something casual. But I honestly thought I had a shot to be the woman who thawed your bitter little heart. Because I’m pretty amazing.”

“Hell, I like you already,” my father says, shamelessly eavesdropping.

I put my elbows on the bar and bury my face in my hands. Not that it helps. “Yeah, you are pretty amazing. But I’m kind of a mess.”

“I’m getting that,” Harper says, taking a sip of her wine. “What did you do to your ex?”

It’s hard to even put it into words. “She was my first real girlfriend. My first love. Then things got a little complicated, and I left her, like an asshole.”

“A little complicated how?” my father asks.

“Dad…” I sigh. But maybe saying this out loud is how you finally get past it. “When I was twenty-two, we lost a pregnancy.”

Both Harper and my father stare at me for a long beat. “A pregnancy,” my father echoes in a hushed voice.

“A baby?” Harper corrects.

“A baby,” I repeat, as my heart seizes up inside my chest. “And I didn’t handle it well.”

My father braces his hands against the bar and drops his head as if it suddenly weighs too much. “Poor Ava. And you, too, son. That’s a big loss.” Then he actually reaches over and covers my hand with his for a brief moment.

I inhale, and something loosens just a little bit inside my chest. Maybe only ten percent. But still.

Then my father steps back, removing his apron as another man arrives to resume bartending duties. “Alexander, this is my son Reed and his friend,” he says to the young man. “No tab for those two.”

“Yessir,” the youngster says.

“Nice meeting you, Harper. Enjoy your stay with us.”

“Oh, I will,” she says cheerfully. She studies me for a moment as he takes his leave. “You know, that’s a big secret to sit on for ten years. It explains a few things about you.”

“Does it?” I mumble. I’m really not in the mood to be psychoanalyzed.