Page 44 of Bastard Bartender

Chapter Twelve

I’m lounging around, reading a book, when my phone goes off with a text from Nic.

I’m going for a hike. Join me.

I’m sorry did you say hike?

Ha-ha. I know my name doesn’t start with an S, but you can still hang out with me.

I don’t need an S. I’m still on R.

Please tell me you didn’t let that fucker kiss you last night.

A lady doesn’t kiss and tell …

…

…

Go for a hike with me.

I’m pretty sure I’m still mad at you.

Plus, I’m not really athletic …

Hiking is walking. You can walk, can’t you?

Yes, I can walk, but the question is, how far do I want to walk?

You’ll do fine. We’ll do an easy one. Meet me at this trailhead.

He texts a map of Lost Creek Falls in the Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area. I click the link that brings me to the children’s discovery hike, which, of course, makes me feel ridiculous for being afraid that it would be too much.

Why do you even want me to go hiking with you?

Because I feel like an ass for how I behaved last night. I promise, no music and no mentions of Dick.

I tap on the side of my phone as I read his words. A man who is willing to own up to his juvenile ways is a rare breed.

Is that a formal apology?

As close to one as you’re ever gonna get. So, what do you say?

Fine. I’ll meet you.

See you there. Bring water!

I peel myself off the couch and head toward my room. Glancing at my reflection, I note I could use a facial and a brow wax. If this were a date, I’d be panicking, but it’s only Nic, so I shouldn’t care … which is not why I grab the tweezers and give a few tugs on my brows to shape them up a little.

I slide on some stretchy pants and a tank top. Then, I pull my hair into a ponytail and run it through the back of a ball cap. Grabbing a water bottle, I’m out of the house in record time, which is an oddity for me.

In my job, I definitely have to look the part. As the bookings coordinator, I’m the face of the arena for the companies who spend major cash to have their events there. Not having to get gussied up for clients or even if it’s getting to wear jeans and a comfortable shirt for a date is a welcome change. I spend so much time looking the perfect part that I’m ten minutes late for everything.

Being casual today feels freeing. I can’t even remember a day in recent memory where I’ve left the house without makeup. Just the thought has me lowering the bill and pulling out my mascara. I mean … you can’t fault a girl for wanting to put on a little something.

On my way to the trail, I pick up the phone and dial Marie. When she answers, I don’t say hello. I just say, “You’re never gonna guess where I’m going.”

“If you say hanging with Gwen Stefani, I’m never going to forgive you for not picking me up first,” she says in full seriousness.