Song:
"You Broke Me First" - Tate McRae

The bar was exactly as I remembered. Not dingy or divey. It was comfort. A good dose of rustic appeal wrapped with subtle hints of Christmas.

"This is your mom's?" Janelle asked, following me as I wended through bodies crammed near the bar.

It was. And she took great pride in it.

Iron chandeliers hung from high ceilings strung with low hanging boughs of mistletoe.

I curved a grin. Glimpsing couples kissing beneath, on hardwood floors as they mingled with customers.

Janelle's hand remained in mine as I snaked through the crowd toward a stone fireplace that stood tall in the center of the room, blazing a delicious heat over short tables patrons in low back leather sofas laughed around.

"We'll never find a spot," Janelle worried.

I smiled but said nothing as we came upon our table with a reserved sign placed atop.

"Perks of your mom owning the bar," Nate winked, collapsing onto the brown-leathered seat closest to the fire grate.

The atmosphere buzzed, reminding me of simpler times, and I might have taken a moment to enjoy it had Baker's sour presence not loomed behind me.

His annoyance crashed with mine.

Why he agreed to come, I hardly knew. When Janelle and I hurried downstairs, he declined my nosy friend's invitation to join us, claiming to have promised Johnny he'd work on the KTM.

Good, I thought, making for the door, that is until Nate snatched Baker's jacket off the coat rack and shoved him out the door.

Luke said nothing, but the slight curve of his mouth told me they were up to something.

I rolled my eyes, then whined inwardly when Johnny hopped into the driver's seat. Janelle sidled up next to him, followed by Nate, who beat a sulking Luke to the punch.

I could've murdered them, and the look on Baker's face told me he might too.

I grated my teeth as I climbed into the back of the truck and slid into the middle.

Baker's side brushed against mine, causing a sudden rush of heat.

If he noticed my discomfort, he didn't let on and refused to say a word the entire ride though his silence was quickly broken when my younger brother took off like a bat out of hell—hardly giving Janelle a minute to close the door before he left us in the street.

Several colourful curses left Baker's mouth.

Should've stayed in the truck, I thought, not waiting for him to follow us inside.

I did my best to ignore the man I hoped wouldn't drink too much. The last thing I wanted was for Janelle to see him drunk beyond reason.

Baker removed his black FXR jacket, waiting for me to choose a seat. There weren't many options. My asshole brothers had strategically seated themselves on the opposite side of the round table between Janelle, smiling proudly.

Dead. They were so dead.

I undid the double buttons of my red peacoat, wanting the spot closest to the fire, and I might have chosen it had a shrill cry not shot through the crowd and straight into my spine. "Hadley!"

I collided into Baker as someone crashed into me from behind, hardly having a moment to register what just happened.

He dipped, catching me before my nose smashed into his chest—concern written across his face.

I didn't notice it or the glare he cut the woman whose arms embraced me.

He kept an overprotective hand on my back as I caught my footing and whipped around. "Alyssa!" I squealed, the excitement bursting.

"It's been too long," she said, rocking me back and forth in a tight embrace.

It was too long, I thought as I took in the light floral scents permanently attached to her and the smell of late nights spent sneaking through town with a bottle of stolen tequila in her backpack.

I pulled back, taking in her short, cropped hair—the blue plaid shirt.

"Your hair's different," she smiled, examining me too.

I nearly laughed. "Funny. Baker said the same thing."

Baker said nothing, but I could feel his frown burn into me.

"So," Alyssa beamed, tucking hands into her back pockets. "Where is he?"

"Who?"

She rolled her eyes. "The boyfriend." Giving me a little nudge. "The boys have been talking about him for weeks."

I frowned at my brothers and shook my head with disappointment. "He couldn't make it."

Her blue eyes brimmed with an emotion I couldn't place before flicking over my shoulder.

Perhaps she was worried about Baker drinking too much. It was something I certainly worried about.

I quickly changed the subject, not wanting to think about all the shit Baker took me through. "But I did bring my roommate Janelle," I said, gesturing to my friend.

Janelle smiled. "Hello."

Alyssa gave a kind fine lipped smile.

For a moment, I wondered if it was jealousy Alyssa was experiencing until I realized it was more curiosity. She was the one who chose to stay after I decided to leave.

Betrayal sliced my heart when she declined my invitation to accompany me. But I understood why. It was hard to pack up and leave everything you knew. To start over. To leave your friends and family. I'd experienced the struggle first hand.

Alyssa dragged her attention to me and held up a hand, showing me the gold band and single diamond. "You're married?" I snapped, snatching her hand.

"Engaged," she corrected. "I wanted to wait till you came home to tell you."

My eyes welled with tears, and I hugged her again. "Where is she?" I asked, wanting to congratulate Breena too.

"Working," she said, playfully rolling her eyes. "She'll be back for the winter fair. You might like her," Alyssa said, raising her voice over the music and crowd to address Janelle. "She's a lawyer."

Janelle's stare shifted to me—surprised perhaps.

"Alyssa manages the bar," I confirmed, meaning my mother likely mentioned my roommate and her career choice.

Oh, her look said, and Alyssa addressed us all. "You want a round?"

"Yes," the boys grumbled in unison, and I glanced behind, noting where Baker sat and said, "I'll help you."

△

It had been a minute since I stood behind the bar. My last shift ended a few days before I left, but the bar I currently worked in was nothing compared to here.

I took in the smiling faces, the sour faces. The regulars and the ones passing through.

Hey Hadley, they greeted, while others asked about school and life in the city.

Warmth bloomed in my chest as I answered. Grateful my identity wasn't completely tied to Baker.

I bent about to take three bottles of Bud from the fridge when my fingers paused before the label.

Baker wasn't my responsibility, I reminded myself. Not anymore. He was a grown-ass man, and if he wanted to drink and make a fool of himself, it wasn't up to me to save him. Still, worry sloshed in my gut as I reluctantly grabbed the bottles and set them on the counter, opening them with ease while Alyssa mixed drinks masterfully. "Just like old times," she smiled, taking me from my thoughts.

"Yeah," I answered, recalling old times, but with the good came the bad.

My spirits dimmed as I mixed Janelle's whiskey sour, contemplating whether or not I should even drink.

Memories of Baker flooded my mind. Of ruined nights and tear-stained pillows.

I willed my focus on the bar and the warm atmosphere it held and turned, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the mirrored shelf before reaching for the shot glasses.

Alyssa's stern voice carried over the noise and roaring bouts of laughter. "Not for Baker."

My head snapped in puzzlement. Not because I was going to grab him one, but because I was confused.

She didn't bother looking up at me as she scooped the ice from the box. "He's good with beer."

My brows furrowed, and she shrugged, sensing my questions. "He doesn't care for it anymore."

Baker?

Alyssa grabbed a clean white towel and wiped her hands before tossing her head to a bartender I didn't recognize, an indication for him to take over before approaching me. "Things changed after you left," she said, speaking in hushed tones with her back facing those seated at the counter. "He comes in maybe once a week after training with the boys, has a few beers with dinner, and leaves."

I must have worn the shock on my face because she quirked a weak smile. "He's trying."

I was happy to hear he was doing better, but I couldn't help but feel the slight touch of restatement.

Why couldn't he have tried when he was with me? Why did it take me leaving to get his shit together?

I glanced through disgruntled heads of patrons whose patience was wearing thin and found Baker, who desperately tried to hold down a smile as Nate spoke with his hands and Janelle and Luke laughed.

Alyssa nudged me. "He still loves you, you know. He talks about you all the time."

I bowed my head, really not wanting to have this conversation. "Janelle hates pickles on her burger."

I ignored the sadness glimmering in Alyssa's eyes. I moved because I was tired of holding onto hope. Because I wanted more out of my life than the bar. Then snocross. Then nights spent babysitting men who were more than capable of caring for themselves.

I fought the tears, standing my ground as she turned to punch in my order. "So give her pickle spear to you?"

"Please," I said, grabbing a tray for our drinks.

Talking about Baker hurt more than I cared to admit. A lot more. Everyone was always so worried about Baker. Worried he'd throw his career away, concerned about the sponsorships, his reputation.

Hadley, where's Baker? Hadley, Baker, passed out at the bar again. Hadley, can you pick up Baker?

Selfish was what they whispered behind my back. The word Baker had used during our last fight.

I blinked away the tears. I wasn't a selfish person. I'd been there for Baker when we got the call about his mom. And again after his accident. I dealt with his frustration at every rehab appointment and kept everything I felt bottled up inside for his sake. And even after he'd finally fallen into that ice-cold abyss where no one could get to him, I still stayed, hoping he'd climb out, but he never did.

I chose me, I reminded myself. When everyone else had chosen Baker, I chose me as hard as it was. Baker had given up, and I needed to move on.

I left the shots, took the drink tray, stuffed down the strangling resentment as I rounded the bar on my way to the table, only to be stopped short by an all too familiar voice. "Well, if it isn't Hadley Bell."

A/N: It's been a minute since we heard from Baker but I really wanted to keep Hadley's POV.

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