Beautiful Sacrifice (The Maddox Brothers, #3)(19)

“You live here or something?”

“Upstairs.”

“That’s convenient,” Dalton said.

“And cheap.”

“I can relate. Night, Falyn.”

“Take care, Dalton. It was nice meeting you.”

He nodded, returning to Cowboys. The dance club was across the street and another two doors down, but I could see Taylor and Zeke standing together on the sidewalk, smoking, chatting, and intermittently checking my progress.

I pulled the door open before closing and locking it behind me. The blinds were drawn, and the lights were off in the dining area. I fumbled around until I found the stairs leading to my loft.

The second key fit in my door. I turned the lock until I heard a click, and then I twisted the knob to my empty apartment. Most Friday nights, I could hear the throbbing bass from Cowboys as I lay in bed, and this night was no exception. But this time, I looked through the letters in my shoebox, my eyes watering at the return address on all the envelopes, with the possibility of being in Eakins soon becoming a reality.

The feeling was so surreal—being hopeful for the first time since I’d lost hope.





“Order up!” Chuck yelled from the window in an authoritative deep tone that he only used for that purpose.

It was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon, the normal river of voices louder and more animated. Families occupied almost every table with babies crying, a toddler running in circles around his table, and teenagers hovering over a single cell phone and then bursting into laughter.

Hannah, the high schooler who would help on the weekends, checked on each table, stopping briefly before moving on like a hummingbird in a field of flowers.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Hannah cried, nearly mowing over the two-year-old who had been a moving obstacle since his parents were seated.

“Jack! Get your heinie over here now!” his mother growled.

Jack ran toward his mother with a smile on his face, knowing that he hadn’t yet completely worn out her patience.

“Jeebus,” Hannah said, blowing away a few long golden strands that had fallen into her face. “It’s not even a holiday weekend.”

“Thanks for coming in,” I said, pouring sun tea into four tall cups. “I know you had volleyball practice early.”

“I’ll be a senior this year. I can’t believe it.” She sighed. “What are you going to do without me next summer?”

“You’re not coming back to work?”

She shrugged. “Mom said she wants to travel together all summer before I leave for college.”

“That sounds fun,” I said with a polite smile.

“You’re lying,” Hannah said.

“You’re right. Traveling with Blaire for an entire summer sounds like a form of punishment.”

Hannah pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry you don’t get along with your parents. You’re so nice.”

Hannah didn’t have the impossible-to-satisfy, overbearing evil queen that was Dr. Blaire Fairchild.

“Blaire would lose her shit if a pant leg was peeking out of the dirty laundry hamper, and being forced to wait in any line would turn her into an even worse version of herself. Amusement parks were out of the question. I’m glad you’re doing that though. With your mother, I’m sure it will be fun.”

Hannah’s grin disappeared. “Crap, I need to get the Ashtons cashed out. John Delaney just came in with his munchkins.”

“All five of them?” I asked, turning to see the answer.

John was loaded down with two baby carriers holding his twin sons. His wife, Marie, readjusted their three-year-old daughter on her hip and then leaned down to say something to her two school-aged daughters.

John used to be the girls’ lacrosse coach, but he was now a salesman at a Ford dealership. He was distracted by his children, and I tried my best not to look too long in their direction.

“Oh, wow. Marie’s a champ,” I said.

“Or nuts,” Hannah said. “Didn’t they almost get a divorce a few years ago, right before he quit coaching?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t pay attention to the gossip.”

With a bright smile, Hannah rushed the black leather bill presenter to table eight. I filled a small bowl with lemons and then took the drink tray to table twelve.

“Are you all set to order?” I asked, readying my pen and pad.

“How’s your dad doing, Falyn?”

I glanced at Brent Collins, who had clearly asked the question with an agenda in mind. No longer the Snickers-eating pudgy classmate I’d graduated with, Brent was now the CrossFit instructor down the street.

“He’s been busy,” I said. “You should try the roast turkey. It is exceptionally amazing today.”

“I don’t eat meat. I’ll have the kale salad. What happened to you? Weren’t you in med school or something?”

“Not really.”

“You didn’t go to Dartmouth?” he asked.

“I did. So, you’re a vegetarian? So, no egg on the salad? Dressing? Phaedra makes a homemade green goddess with vegan mayo that is pretty badass.”

“Perfect. Dusty, didn’t you hear that Falyn went to Dartmouth?”

Dusty nodded, sipping his tea. Both men were with their girlfriends. All of them had either graduated with me or the year after.