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a saint!” I hold my hands in the air and shake them around. “Praise the Blessed Virgin. Gloria a Dios! ” I drop my fists back to the bar and wrap my fingers around the pale yellow label. When I glance at it, I don't recognize the brand. Probably something local, homegrown, and tasteless. The night I danced on this bar, that I filmed Austin and Amy together, I had no idea how much my life was going to change in such a short time. I'd gotten used to the way things were. I liked them that way, and now? I feel more alone than ever.
    Kelley drums his fingers on the counter and watches me with eyes that glitter like the night sky. They're so dark that in the right light, his pupils melt into his irises and make him look otherworldly. I won't deny that it's sexy. Gaine is as attractive as they come, but I'm not in the mood to be swept off my feet by a man, especially not one that's five years my junior.
    “Are you done yet?” he asks me and his voice slips out of that Southern sultry drawl and into a bit of New York. Oh yeah. He thinks I don't know where he comes from, but I do. We can hide from our pasts, but eventually, they'll catch up with us. It's best to keep a net waiting just in case. “Because I'd like to have an actual conversation with you.”
    “This is the mood I'm in tonight, Gaine. If you don't like it, leave. You don't owe me anything.” I finish my drink and start in on the next. The bartender here is good. I don't like having to ask.
    I stare at the dirty mirror above the rows of bottles and try to imagine that there's another world in there, one that doesn't fuck you at every turn, where people care and shit smells like roses. Hah. Fat chance.
    “No, but I owe you everything, Mireya,” Gaine whispers, bending close. The bartender sets a beer down next to his wrist, the one with the koi fish tattoos. I hate the damn things, but I guess I can't complain. I've got a tramp stamp on my back, right above my ass crack. It's a winged pig. You know that phrase, when pigs fly ? Sounded like a good idea after a night of tequila shots. I do my best to keep it hidden at all times.
    “How's that, Gaine?” I ask, turning my head slightly as the doors to the bar swing open and in walk Beck and Melissa. God. What a train wreck that girl is. If I thought I was messed up, Mel has completely lost it. She doesn't even look like the same woman. She's not wearing any makeup and her clothes are as plain as can be, just a white tee and a pair of dirty jeans. Her hair is loose and stringy and her lips are stuck in a permanent frown. I mean, I never thought she actually liked Kent, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe she did love the asshole?
    Beck waves at us and grins, but I turn away without acknowledging him. Gaine gives him a nod of his chin and spins back to face me.
    “Because I like you, Sawyer.” He tries to smile, but I don't return the favor. Instead, I focus on his pinched nose, his rough lips, the speckle of stubble across his jaw and throat. Usually, Gaine keeps himself nice and clean and smooth. It's one of the things I like about him. I wish I could tell him, ask him to shave it all off, so I can run my fingers down his throat, but we don't have that kind of relationship, he and I. He'd like that, sure he would, and that's what this is all about. I don't know why he's chosen now to pursue me at full speed, but he has and it's already getting old.
    “And I like you, too, Gaine. As a friend. Don't be as clueless about me as I was about Austin. We're friends, and we have fun together. That's that.” I notice I've knocked out another beer. When did that happen? The soft, yellow lighting in the room is starting to blur at the edges and the dirty wood floors don't seem so trashed. I smile and push aside my empty bottle to make room for another.
    “Then as a friend, I'm worried about you.” Gaine pauses and licks his lips, looking around the room like he's trying to sort out rival spies from the local clientele. “How