I forgot how much the keg room sucks. It's freezing, the kegs are heavy and sticky, and the floor is slimy with old soupy beer. There's also probably mold hidden around back here and my short shorts and tee don't do much to keep me from shivering. Jack used to do this part for me. He'd check the kegs and carry the ice to and fro.

I just had to fling a jab first. I just had to call him Jackass. I could have said Jack, Mav, Maverick, Jack-be-nimble, Dalton, Jackoloupe, Kansas or any of the other stupid names I have called him in the past, but I chose Jackass. Which forced the ugly name my sister calls me to come rolling off his tongue. He knows I hate it. He knows I hate the keg room, so he called my bluff early. I just couldn't let him win. I can't let him think that anything he says gets to me.

I finish connecting the last keg and then throw my body against the door to return to the warmth. I know that took me way longer than it should have, but it's probably been a year since I was forced back there. I realize I don't have much time to fill the ice buckets before the place fills up with the first wave of drinkers.

Mag's is actually owned by Maggie's family, the Valentines. It's a mix between a dive bar and a sports bar, sitting on the corner of one of the busiest intersections in Phoenix. We're near the downtown campus of Arizona State and nestled between two massive hotels. We get the college kids who like to get rowdy and watch the games, and the business travelers who want to unwind and let loose.

We cater to college students with low-priced drinks, but we also draw in tourists, students, and professionals with our late-night happy hours. We serve minimal food, so the crowd and the money don't really pick up until after seven. That's why Jack and I usually work the late shifts. That, and we actually prefer them, since we're the only ones who are in school during the day.

I'm finally finishing my degree in business, and Jack's working on his master's in architecture. We both go to Arizona State, but we attend classes on different campuses.

I realize this is the first spring break in three years that Jack and I haven't made plans together. Maybe if we can play nice long enough, I'll ask what he's up to this year. Simply out of curiosity, not because I actually care. I no longer care about Jack Dalton and his stupid life.

As I make my way down the hall, I catch Maggie coming out from the office with her hands up.

"Girl! I have been looking for you! Why aren't you in the front?" She asks me as she grips my arm with her hand to drag me into the office.

"I had to check the kegs," I tell her, and she looks to me like I just told her I was speaking to Santa Claus.

"The kegs? Why? We have a guy for that now. Brandon. I finally got us a good barback," she informs me, and my jaw clenches. I'm going to kill Jack. "You don't have to do the bitch work anymore. I don't either!"

"What made you finally hire help?" I ask her and she stops rifling through papers to look at me.

"You left. I didn't realize how much you and Jack used to crank out until I put him with Sabrina. Oh, she's the new girl, by the way. You'll meet her tomorrow."

"Anything else I need to know? Anything else changed since I left?" I ask her as I take a seat next to the desk. She drops into her chair and eyes me for a moment like she wants to say something, but then chooses not to.

"Just your new employee number," she finally says as she takes my fingerprint to add me to the P.O.S. "88752." Remember that, breathe that. Tattoo it on your arm." She hands me a sticky note with my number on it, and I stuff it into my pocket.

"Really? Nothing new and exciting to report from your end?" I ask, but she quickly shakes her head, "You know me Luce, I live and breathe the bar life. I forgot what the outside world is like." I laugh, knowing she does spend all of her time here, which is why she only hires people she can stand seeing for that many hours a week. 

"You ready to stand on your feet for long hours again?" She asks me as her eyes flick to the small plastic clock nailed on top of her door.

"No. But I'm hoping I'll make enough over spring break to afford my own place. I just gotta keep that goal in mind," I tell her as I push myself off the frayed leather chair.

"Baking star and student by day, drink slinger by night. Have fun!" She says with a sarcastic grin before I use my hand to swing myself out from the doorframe. I have a grip on the opening, but I wasn't expecting anyone to be in the hallway when I swung into it. I fly smack into the middle of Jack's chest and I hear him let out an "Umph!" I take a step back from a startled Jack as he says, "Damn Goose, good thing I didn't have glasses in my hand." He rubs his chest as he continues down the hall and hearing him call me "Goose" again causes my chest to tighten. I want to hate him. I want to be angry with him, but I don't know how long my traitorous heart will allow that.

I watch his sandy hair disappear into the kitchen and I can't keep my eyes from darting to his long legs in his black, slim-cut jeans that accentuate his perfect round behind. I recognize the jeans I picked out when I told him that he could take a break from his Volcom shorts every once in a while to look decent. And he does look decent. In his stupid red Arizona State shirt that accentuates his sun-kissed face. His sandy brown hair is already lightened from the sun and his teal eyes pop against his tan skin. He's as hot as I remember and I know why the lake rats flock to him. It irks me that I still find him so damn attractive. 

I find Ashleigh lingering by the back bar, and as I slide under the counter, she says, "Oh, there you are. I thought maybe you flaked and, like, left."

I shake my head. "Nope. Unfortunately, I'm here for the foreseeable future."

"So, like, New York really didn't work out? You're not just, like, I dunno, hoping Blake comes back to get you?" she asks, her eyes darting everywhere but in my direction. I step closer to her as I check the well and reply, "Yeah. I'm back for good. Blake and I are done."

She's now anxiously picking at her flaking pink nail polish and tucks a hand behind her ear to push her long blonde hair back.

"Okay, cool. 'Cause, like, there was something I wanted to tell you for, like, months now, but then you got engaged and I didn't want to, like..."

I swear, if she says like one more time, I'm going to spray her with the soda gun.

"Oh? Okay, what?" I ask, moving around her to punch into the computer. She's completely oblivious to the fact that I'm rushing to get ready and her body takes up half the footpath.

"Just... so, like, there was one time where...ya know what? Wanna go for coffee this week?" she asks, suddenly pivoting the conversation.

I stop wiping the counter and glance back at her, about to answer, when I hear Maggie yell, "Ashleigh! Hannah could use some help. Back to your bar!"

Ashleigh glances at me, a worried look still splashed across her face, then dips around me to make it out of the space. She looks back just before rounding the corner and says, "Jack is going to be so glad to have you back!"

She gives me a quick wave right as Jack passes her in the doorway to come back to me.