“Hi.”

His voice was so quiet I barely heard him. I wasn’t sure how to react. Should I still be angry about the way he left? Should I ask him if he was feeling better? Should I give him the cold shoulder? My anger had had time to dissipate over the week, and although I wanted to ask him what had happened, I was also desperate to just forget about the whole thing. So, I settled for echoing his greeting with my own lacklustre, “hi.”

He shut the door behind me. I went out the back to the kitchen area, and he went to the front to serve. I leant back against the stainless-steel bench and took a deep breath, trying to steady the nerves that had exploded in my belly. Bianca glanced over at me. “Do you want me to serve today?”

I shook my head, pasting on a fake smile and trying to look cheerful. “No, I’m fine. I’ll go.”

She shrugged at me. “If you’re sure...”

I nodded and dawdled my way out to the serving area. I didn’t want to be out here. It would have been much easier to hide out the back, clean tables and wash dishes, but I couldn’t let him think his presence bothered me. And it didn’t. I just wasn’t sure how to act around him. I’d never been dumped in the middle of a one-night stand before. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was for such a situation.

The front gates hadn’t opened yet, but they would any minute now, and we’d be inundated with customers. I found myself a place on the bar between Jamison and Low, and waited.

“Reese?” The deep gravel of Low’s voice coursed through me.

I sighed. “Yeah?”

He looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes, and gone was the deliberate two-day stubble from last week. He looked like he hadn’t shaved at all while he was off. I guessed maybe he had been sick.

He paused, his eyes flicking over my shoulder. “The gates are open.” He went quiet as we watched the wave of customers, flowing in a steady stream.

“Looks like it’s going to be busy.”

“Yeah.”

Wow. We were awesome at the whole conversation thing this morning, weren’t we? God, we’d made this awkward.

The crowds had been big this week, with the Spring Carnival officially kicking off. It had sucked to be down a team member; we’d all been run off our feet without Low. But weekday crowds had nothing on the weekend racegoers. My line was long. Low’s was too. Not because of his flirting today; it just seemed that neither of us was moving very quickly. Jamison was the only one keeping us afloat.

I tried to refocus and lose myself in the repetitive work. But I was acutely aware of Low’s every move. His gaze was a laser beam, burning me every time our eyes accidentally met. We should have talked before shift. Our personal problems were making us distracted. I’d already spilt three drinks and dropped a glass, smashing it into shards. And I’d heard Low get more than one order wrong. People were getting impatient with us.

“Three beers and a bourbon on the rocks, please,” a cute young guy at the head of my line said.

“No problem.” I reached down to grab a beer glass, finding the rack empty. I smiled at him. “Just gotta grab more glasses. Hang tight for a second, okay?”

“Fine.”

I winced. He’d already waited ten minutes at least.

I jogged to the kitchen area and grabbed a tray of glasses fresh out of the dishwasher.

“What’s up with Low today?” Riley asked as I passed by.

“Um, nothing?” I stopped, the tray in my arms shaking a little.

“He’s quiet.”

“Is he?” I didn’t know what to say. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Very quiet,” Bianca chimed in, her brow wrinkling with concern. “I’ve never seen him so subdued.”

“Well, I don’t know. You both know him better than I do.” The words came out sharper than I’d intended. “Why don’t you just ask him?” I grabbed my glasses and made my way back to my customer.

“What’s up with her today?” Riley asked Bianca, but I didn’t hear her reply.

Guilt washed over me. I’d need to apologise to Bianca and Riley later. And I needed to be more professional. I poured my beers, trying to be friendly to my irritated customer, without being flirty.

Now that they’d pointed it out, I realised Riley and Bianca were right. Something was definitely wrong with Low. I could have put it down to the drama between the two of us, but it wasn’t just me he was awkward with. The Low from last week, and the guy in front of me now were like two different people. This Low was quiet—taking orders and pouring drinks, but gone was the flirty chit chat, the confidence, and the constant banter.

The afternoon passed in much the same way. Low regained none of the spark he’d had a week before, and I caught the concerned glances Jamison threw his way. At one point, Jamison had a break in his line, and he went over to help Low. I watched them talking, their heads leaning in close, but I couldn’t catch what they were saying. Anyway, it wasn’t my business. It’s not like Low and I were friends.

Low had just finished balancing the till, and Jamison and I were restocking for the next day, when Riley came out from the kitchen and slung an arm around Low’s shoulders.

“We’re going out,” he announced. “All of us.”

I looked over and accidentally caught Low’s eye. I snapped my head away, looking at Riley before I could register Low’s expression. “Sure.” I tried to muster as much enthusiasm as possible. Going out with them would be better than sitting home alone drinking by myself on a Saturday night. Even if it meant spending the evening in Low’s subdued company.

“I’m in,” Jamison said. “I’ll call Bree and get her to meet us there.”

Riley cheered and gave us both high-fives. Bianca pulled a face when Jamison turned away and I raised an eyebrow at her.

“What’s the face about?”

Bianca lowered her voice so only I would hear. “Jam’s girlfriend, Bree, is…”

“You don’t like her.”

Bianca shook her head. “None of us do. She’s shallow and phony and catty as hell. But Jam doesn’t see any of that, so we’re just waiting until he comes to his senses.”

“Right.”

“What about you, Low?” Riley asked, ignoring the whispered conversation between Bianca and me. My ears pricked up, as I waited for Low to answer.

“Not tonight,” Low mumbled. He was already taking off his apron and loosening his ugly purple tie.

“Yes, tonight,” Riley said, voice firm. “You’re the whole reason we’re going out. B and I decided we’re getting you out of your funk.”

Low shook his head and grabbed his wallet from his locker. My stomach clenched. I wasn’t sure if it was because I really wanted him to come out, or because I was relieved he wasn’t.

Low made to move for the door, but Riley blocked his path. Riley wasn’t quite as muscular and filled out as Low was, nor was he as tall, but he had a gleam of determination in his eye.

“Come on, Low, you look like shit, and I’ve never seen you so down. We’re worried about you. You’re gonna come, get some drinks, get your dance on, and we’ll get you laid. You look like you need it.”

Low sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m fine. Really. If I come for one drink, will that be enough to make you happy?”

Riley nodded and clapped Low on the back. “We’re all in! Let’s go!”

Bianca grinned. “I knew you’d convince him.” Bianca and Riley high-fived as they headed out the door, with Jamison right behind them.

“I’m just grabbing my bag. I’ll meet you guys out front.” I didn’t want to be left alone at the back of the pack with Low.

I scuttled off to the back-kitchen area, grabbed my bag from my locker, and wasted a minute or two, giving Low time to leave. I fumbled with my keys, looking for the one that locked the bar door.

“Don’t worry, I have my key.”

My head snapped up and the butterflies in my belly started up again.

“Sorry,” Low said. “I wasn’t sure if you had a key yet, so I waited for you.”

“Oh, yeah. Jamison gave me one while you were away...” I found my key and held it up for him to see.

He nodded but made no move to leave. I didn’t want to be alone with him. The embarrassment I’d buried over last week was rapidly rising now that we were alone. I could feel it heating my cheeks.

I took an extra-long time locking the door, double-checking it, doing whatever I could to avoid looking at him. But he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Listen,” he said, when I’d run out of things to pretend to do. “About the other night…”

I wanted to groan. Did we really have to do this? Couldn’t we just move on without all the awkward?

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” I tried to sound breezy and carefree. I gave a little laugh, then abruptly shut my mouth. What the hell was that? It didn’t sound breezy or carefree at all. More like panicky and a little hysterical.

“No, I want to explain—”

“Low.” I lifted my head to look him in the eye. “The last thing I want to hear is your explanations. I want to forget it ever happened. So can we do that? You can go back to flirting with your bar groupies and I’ll just do my job. I’m not the type to get all psycho about it, okay?” And that was true. Normally I wouldn’t have given a one-night stand a second thought, but I’d never been dumped mid make-out session either, so this was kind of new territory.

“Let’s just go out and have a good time, okay?” I turned away from him, not giving him the chance to reply. I hustled to where the other three were waiting for us outside.

“So where are we off to?” I asked in a strangled, high-pitched voice. Bianca gave me a quizzical look that clearly said I was being weird, but I already knew that.

Jamison slung his arm around my shoulder as Low caught up with our group. “Marx Club. We haven’t taken you there yet, but it’s our local. You’ll love it.”