Sink or Swim (Beach Kingdom 3)

Almost immediately when Andrew slipped behind the bar, Rory elbowed him in the ribs and nodded toward the entrance. Through the steady Thursday happy hour crowd, they watched Marcus hold the door open for Jamie and whisper something that made Jamie roll his eyes and smile grudgingly, his happiness obvious. No one had seen those two since the wedding, save the odd text to let everyone know they were alive. Andrew, for one, was happy as hell to see them. Not only had he been untethered since the afternoon at the airfield, everywhere he turned these days, he was confronted with memories of his father.

Ribbing the newlyweds would be the perfect distraction.

“Look at these two smug pricks,” Rory said, loud enough to be heard over the music and beating Andrew to the punch. “Walking in here like they didn’t just ditch their own wedding.”

Marcus took a sweeping bow and the bar applauded.

“Yeah, it’s fine, assholes,” Andrew added, waving a bar rag. “We got your shifts covered. No need to worry.”

“Oh, we weren’t,” Jamie called over the applause, giving them a good-natured middle finger. “I knew we could count on a warm welcome back. Thanks, guys.”

Rory saluted. “Any time.”

Jamie left Marcus at the door to resume his job as bouncer and joined his brothers behind the bar. A large group of demanding students came in and made it impossible for them to talk, so they spent the next hour in their usual rhythm, weaving in and out of each other on their way to take orders or run credit cards. Someone played a bunch of Smiths songs on the internet jukebox, giving the whole night kind of a dulled edge, melancholy feel. Or maybe that was just Andrew. With every word he spoke, every movement, every breath, he could still feel Jiya in his arms. Wished he could replay the moment she ran to him over and over again, for the rest of his life.

He might never get the opportunity to comfort her again, so he let the scene happen on a loop in his head, hoping to memorize every nuance. How her hair smelled, the tears perched on her black eyelashes, the way it felt to be the man she confided in.

Stop.

Christ, he needed to stop.

Andrew prepared a round of whiskey shots, served them, then went back and poured his own, firing it back when no one was watching. He looked at Rory and Jamie where they stood near the bar hatch, laughing at something Jamie said, and he felt so…detached. From everything. The bar, his life, even his family. Like he was watching them from the other side of a glass wall, all picture, no sound. This is where I have to be. This is where I’ve landed myself. And his next impulse was a self-destructive one, but he couldn’t seem to help letting it engage.

His brothers were so fucking happy. He wanted them to stay that way.

If they knew what he’d agreed to do, that happiness would be tested. It would disturb the soil they’d cultivated with Olive, with Marcus. Because they wouldn’t let him transport illegal goods alone. They would want to be in it together.

The only way to keep them out of it was to distance himself.

Andrew would be lying if he didn’t acknowledge the part of him that just wanted to hide from their happiness. There was only one way he’d ever be happy and she wasn’t an option. Fuck, he loved his brothers more than anything in the world, but he needed them to go. Before his actions poisoned the lives they’d carved out for themselves.

“Hey,” Andrew said, approaching them, picking up empty glasses and balled up napkins off the bar as he went. “I’ve been thinking about something. Maybe selling the house.”

Rory cut himself off mid-laugh. “What did you say?”

Jamie watched Andrew in stunned silence.

“Come on, you two are barely there as it is.” Andrew shrugged. “Jamie, you’re either going to move in with Marcus or get your own place with him. And Rory, Olive’s apartment is a fucking palace.” He split a look between them. “You’re paying a third of the mortgage each on the house when you could probably save money moving in with them.”

“So this is just about making a financially informed decision?” Jamie said, cocking an eyebrow.

Irritation made the back of Andrew’s neck itch. Damn Jamie for being so suspicious and analytical. Andrew really didn’t have it in him to be cagey right now. “That’s right. It makes financial sense. What the hell else would it be about?”

“We don’t know, A. You tell us,” Rory laughed without humor. “This is kind of coming out of left field.”

“And you waited until the middle of a rush to drop the bomb, too,” Jamie added.

Andrew held up finger to a signaling customer. “Meaning?”