Page 31 of Hooked on Trouble

“The man, for your information, is sitting at this table. And I could eat a bowl of alphabet soup and shit out a better joke than that.”

Kolton drums a thumb on the table. “Probably not spelled correctly.”

Ignoring him, Sawyer drains his beer.

I kick his foot. “That ring’s still on Lily’s necklace, not her finger. You making headway in the marriage department?”

“Wish I knew. She twists the thing all the time, like she can’t stop thinking about it. Drives me crazy. Every time I look at her, I glance down, hoping to see it on her finger. Maybe I haven’t done enough. Time will tell, I guess.”

Kolton grins. “If you asked me a year ago what was more likely: Sawyer proposing to a girl or Sawyer winning gold in rhythmic gymnastics, I’d have bet my savings on the leotard and ribbon. Goes to show you.”

“That you’re so dumb your Patronus is a snail?” Sawyer chuckles at his own joke.

Kolton’s reply: “Someone should have told you sniffing paint kills brain cells.”

We sip our beers.

“Is it hard on you, too?” I ask Kolton. “Shay working so much?”

“Nope. She does better when she’s busy. Loves working and having a project on the go. Best for all parties involved. We still find time to hang out, with Jackson and on our own.”

He leans forward, his long hair barely covering his smile. Shay may push his buttons, the two of them often arguing, but they fit, like joists aligned in a house. Like Lily and Sawyer work, although I have no idea how she tolerates him. I frown, unsure our meet and greet in Aspen will have as happy an ending for Raven and me.

Kolton knocks his glass against mine. “Were you working tonight?”

“No. I was out with Raven.”

“Things okay with Josh?”

I bristle at the question. “My last lead disappeared, and the punk just got his GED. I don’t have the balls to tell him it’s not worth planning for the future.”

“Sorry, man.” Kolton empties the pitcher into his glass and stands. “But you should be proud. And maybe something will come together last minute. I’ll get this round.” He walks over to the bar and sits on a stool, jug in hand, waiting for Doug to stop chatting with the regulars. Might take a while.

Sawyer stretches out on his side of the booth. “Let’s rewind to the part where you said you were out with a certain tattooed vixen. What’s the deal?”

I spin my glass on the table, wanting to rewind farther. To the way she felt against me at my truck, how her soft lips yielded to mine. “I’m into her.”

“Right, but that’s like me saying I love a particular comic book. You always fall hard for the ladies.”

He’s seen too much for me to tell him to fuck off. “She’s different. I can talk to her about Josh and the stuff I do at the rec center. It’s easy.” And there’s that deep connection I can’t try to explain.

“So what’s the holdup?”

Sawyer knows me. Gets that he has to ask questions, force me to reveal the hard truths. The man is as good as family. “You know how some punk stole her wallet?” He nods, and I go on, “Someone at the station found it, and they put her name into the system. Turns out she has a record. Intense shit that kind of shook me.” I lock eyes with him. “There’s a charge for heroin possession.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. I’m wary to get involved, have her around my sister. The kids. I don’t know who her friends are outside of Shay and Lily, if they’ll visit her here. What that might bring. But I’m already hooked. I’m helping her find her sister, and it’s brought up a lot of heavy stuff for her, too. She doesn’t want to spread herself thin, and I’m using it as an excuse to keep her at arm’s length, but I’m struggling. Not sure how to process it all.”

Sensing my agitation, he plants his elbows on the table. “So you’re saying you think she’s using? That she’s used recently?”

“No. I’d be able to tell, and I haven’t even asked her about it.” I rub my hand over my mouth. “Things are really fragile with Nikki. With Josh. I just heard the word heroin, and it freaked me out.”

“Bro, honestly? You’re getting way ahead of yourself, and you’re judging her without giving her a chance. From what I know of Raven, she’s a cool chick. Solid. You can’t expect to meet someone without a past. Can’t expect perfection. Except from me, obviously.”

I’d chide him for his last comment, but his words hit below the belt. He hasn’t had to take a sibling to the ER with vomit caked to her skin. Hasn’t wondered if his brother would wind up on the five o’clock news because he’d killed someone or been killed. The people closest to me need rules. Tough love. Strict boundaries. I need the rigor, to get me through. But he’s right. I haven’t given Raven a chance to explain. I’ve done nothing but let my imagination run wild.

“Assuming you’re right, and I’m being an overreacting prick, how do I broach this without pissing her off?”