We manage to get through the first wave of drinkers without any hiccups. Lucy falls right back into the swing of things, and it feels like she never left—except for the fact that she doesn't say a single word to me while we work in tandem. She stays busy with drink orders, and when there's a lull, she jumps straight into stocking or cleaning. She doesn't lean against the counter and try to shoot the shit with me like she usually would.

There are plenty of times I open my mouth to say something, but small talk feels stupid. I want to know what happened with Blake, why she's back at Mag's instead of a bakery, and whether she still hates my guts. But none of that seems appropriate to bring up while I'm pulling draft handles.

It isn't until the happy hour crowd thins out that she finally mutters something to me.

"I hear Brandon is a great barback," she says with a tilt of her head. She's still avoiding eye contact, but I know she's just let me know her trip to the keg room was pointless.

"He is. Changes the kegs over in half the time you did," I say, leaning against the bar to give my legs a break.

"Guess I'm outta practice."

"You weren't changing kegs in New York then?" I ask, even though I already know she left to get out of the bar scene. I almost make a crack about her being busy with wedding planning, but that would be low—even for me.

"Changing out pastry bags, more like," she says, and I know she's talking about Petite Miette, the bakery she worked at for a little while out there. I don't admit I know that, because it would mean I'd been paying a little too much attention to her Instagram.

"At least you were baking then?"

She lets out a loud "Ha!" before crossing in front of me to toss a wet rag in a dish bucket. A younger woman comes up to the bar with her ID in her hand, and Lucy swirls around me to go help her. I watch as she leans into the counter and tilts her ear to hear the woman better. She shakes her head before coming over to me.

"You know what a motor oil shot is?" She asks quizzically, and this might be the first shot Lucy doesn't know. She used to try to stay up to date with all the fancy and frivolous shots that made the rounds on social media. I nod to her and wander over to the woman. I lean into her and ask, "You want a motor oil shot?"

I watch the smirk tug her lips to one side before she answers, "I want whatever you'll make me." She hands me her ID and adds, "My name is right there." Sometimes I flirt back with the cute college girls, but tonight I'm not interested. Not with Lucy back. I find her D.O.B. and give her a small smile as I hand the card back to her. I'm also not going to be a total dick since I need the tips.

"Thanks, Allison," I say as I let my eyes linger a second longer than they should. I scoot down the bar to grab the Jager and Goldschlager, aware that Lucy is watching as I pour. I grab the Malibu and Peppermint Schnapps and mix them all together.

"That's a motor oil?" Lucy asks. I nod to her before placing the shot in front of Allison. I ask her if she wants to start a tab or closeout, and she smiles again before answering, "I'll start a tab. That way, I have a reason to come back for more." She leaves her card on the sticky counter before taking her shot glass back over to her group. She glances behind her as I watch two of her friends look over at me.

"One of your lake rats?" Lucy asks, and I note the disgust in her tone.

"Nope. A new admirer." 

"Oh, I should tell her she'll be one of many." 

"Yes, one of the many twenty-one-year-old admirers that I actively avoid." 

"Oh, you have an age limit you avoid now?" She asks with a smirk and a feisty tone. "I don't remember that being the case when you cheated on Audrey with that high schooler." 

I frown as I start toward the computer, "Krista said she had just graduated and was wearing ASU gear. It was reasonable to think she meant college and not high school," I reply as I input the tab into the computer. That happened years ago, so I am surprised Lucy still remembers that embarrassing incident.

Another girl comes up to the bar, and Lucy strides off. I watch as the girl scans the liquor shelf behind us, and Lucy glances between her and the bottles.

I hear Lucy suggest a lemon drop—our go-to when someone has no idea what shot to order. She flicks four shot glasses onto the counter and starts mixing everything together.

I know I'm staring. I can feel my eyes wanting to peel away from her, but I can't. I didn't realize how much I missed her until she was back, shaking a shaker in front of me.

She's going through the motions, clearly having done this a million times before. But there's something off about the look on her face. Like she's realizing she's done this a million times before, too.

She slides the glasses over, and the girl hands her a fifty. As Lucy makes change, she says to me, "You know that line in Dazed and Confused? Where Matthew McConaughey's like, That's why I like high school girls. I get older, they stay the same age?"

I nod, and she adds, "I think I feel that way about college girls. But I hate them instead."

She closes the drawer with her hip, and I grin as she drops the crumpled bills onto the counter. The girl leaves a two-dollar tip on a twenty-dollar tab, and Lucy holds the bills up with a nod.

"One for each of us," she says, before stuffing them into the tip bucket.

The distaste that's been splashed across her face since she walked over here still lingers. She's not having fun like she used to.

I'm sure I'm part of that.

I want the ease we used to have back. I want these shifts to feel effortless, not like some kind of slow torture.

"We'll get busy here soon enough. And then you'll miss these quiet nights," I tell her, as I remember how I would love the quieter nights because that's when I'd get to talk to her. She flicks her gaze to me and holds mine for a moment. I wonder if she's also reminiscing by the way her eyes finally soften. But then her jaw clenches and she looks away from me.

I spot Hannah jogging over to us and when she reaches the well, she breathlessly begs, "Hey Jack, can we steal you for a minute? The front just got hit with a bachelorette party and they want some eye candy. Come bring us in some tips." She bounces on her toes which causes her boobs to bounce with her. I look back at Lucy, not wanting to leave her back here, but she looks at Hannah and says, "Yeah. Take him. I'm perfectly fine alone." She spins around to go help an older man in a suit as Hannah tugs on my arm.

"Come on, come on!" She tells me as I lift the panel. She grabs my hand as she pulls me toward the front room. When I cross under the doorway that connects the two spaces, I spot the massive group of women in tutus and tank tops. They all look like Scottsdale girls and I wonder why they are at a small bar in Phoenix on a Sunday night. I follow Hannah behind the bar, and spot the bride in a tight white dress leaning over the center of the counter. Her boobs are spilling out of her top and her Bride tiara is askew on her blonde head.

"Slippery nipples!" She yells to me and spins her finger in a circle above her head, "Twelve of em!" Her eyes are droopy and I can tell this is going to be a shitshow.