Page 10 of Made for Mayhem

But Huddy’s reaction didn’t mirror Gus’s tone. His gaze dropped again, jaw tightening just a little—enough that I noticed. Enough that I knew this wasn’t just a joke that landed wrong.

“Playoffs?” I asked.

Gus glanced at me, then Huddy, then back at me. Whatever answer lived there stayed put.

“What can I get you?” he said finally.

I didn’t look at Huddy. Didn’t press. Instead, I turned my attention to Gus.

“What’s your favorite thing here?”

“This guy always gets the bacon cheeseburger,” Gus said. “Grilled onions, ketchup and mustard. Never tomato. And don’t even think about mayo.”

My brows lifted as I peeked at Huddy over the edge of the menu. “Oh. So you’re a regular regular.”

“Something like that,” Gus said, clearly enjoying himself.

“Okay,” I decided. “I’ll do the cheeseburger too. And a Daisy Cutter.”

Huddy raised a brow. “You pick that just because it’s got your name on it?”

I grinned. “It feels like a good omen, right?”

Gus wandered off, leaving us alone again. The bar was mostly empty—just a couple people playing pool in the corner—like the rest of the world had forgotten this place existed.

“Good omen, huh?” Huddy asked.

“Mmhmm.” I popped a fry into my mouth. “You didn’t rob me, and these fries are excellent. Seems promising.”

He huffed out a laugh, smoothing a hand over his beard. This time, it reached his eyes.

“Do you always put that much stock in luck?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m superstitious,” I said. “But I am a little stitious.”

This time he grinned, and knowing I was the one to make him smile felt like taking a shot of the sweetest liquor—pure joy, straight into my bloodstream.

“My sister and I have a whole theory that things come in threes. In our experience, it’s usually bad things. But then it’s like the universe apologizes for being so shitty and gives you one really good thing to make up for it. A reminder that everything can change in the blink of an eye, even when it doesn’t feel like it. To keep looking for the good.”

He raised a dark brow. “Sounds like a convenient way to justify a bad week.”

I laughed and grabbed another fry. “It’s not a justification, it’s science. Well. Maybe not science. Emotional science? Is that a thing?” My hand waved as the words picked up speed. “Okay, example. My sister’s car died—smoke-billowing-on-the-side-of-the-road dead. Then the roof in our apartment caved in during a rainstorm. And then we got a phone call that my aunt passed away.”

His expression softened, and I blinked away my emotions lingering just beneath the surface.

“She was my mom’s sister. We lived with her during the summers after my mom died when I was young. So that one really sucked.”

“I’m sorry.”

“But then came the good thing.” I pushed forward before the sadness could settle. “Maggie left everything to us, including her old farmhouse. Cute little town, gorgeous views. Middle-of-nowhere perfect.”

“Sounds like my kind of place.” He leaned in slightly. “But you didn’t want to move there?”

“We did. My sister and niece moved in, and I stayed for a few weeks. But the whole time she kept telling me this was my chance to move to Chicago like I’d always wanted. To take my half of the inheritance and chase big dreams. To not keep living the same small-town life we’d always had.”

“And so you’re here.”

I waved a hand around us. “And so I’m here.”