We walked in, removing our coats and gloves, and Paige waved to me from the bar. I let her hug me and guide us to a table in the corner. Tyler Maddox was present as expected and had a pitcher of beer to himself, a cigarette tucked behind his ear.

“Holy fuck,” Finley said not so quietly into my ear.

Tyler pretended not to hear as he stood, shaking Sterling’s hand and sweeping his own toward the empty chairs, including his. Zeke and another man stood until we sat, and then waited as Tyler found an extra seat to pull to our table.

Paige leaned into my ear. “He was just talking about you.”

“I bet he was,” I said.

Finley introduced herself to Tyler first, and then Zeke. The third man shook her hand when she extended it.

“Daniel Ramos,” he said.

“Otherwise known as Sugar,” Tyler said with a smirk.

Finley giggled. She was immediately enamored with Tyler, and Sterling noticed. He transitioned too easily from laughter and affection to sitting motionless between the love of his life and Paige.

Paige rested her chin on her hand, smiling at Sugar. “It’s just so predictable.”

“What is?” he asked.

“All the transplants are from California.”

“I didn’t come here meaning to stay for six seasons,” he said.

Paige’s purple pompadour glowed in the neon lights of the bar. “Then why did you?”

“I came here for a girl.”

Zeke slapped him on the shoulder. “Isn’t Sugar sweet?”

Sugar shrugged away from him.

“And where is she?” Paige asked, attempting her best flirtatious smile.

“Not here,” Sugar said, leaning toward her.

“Is there no waitress tonight?” Finley said, annoyed. It was then that I saw it, the truth behind the flash of anger in her eyes. She hadn’t forgiven me and definitely not Sterling. She was going to flirt with the hotshot I’d mentioned to punish us both.

Tyler stood up, heading to the bar. “I got it.”

I listened to Finley and Sterling chat for a while, at the same time trying not to eavesdrop on Zeke and Sugar. Sugar was complaining about a girl, and then Zeke mentioned another Maddox.

“Tyler has a brother?” I asked.

“Four of them,” Zeke said.

“Can you imagine five Tylers running around?” I teased.

“I don’t have to,” Zeke said. “I’ve seen it in real life, and it’s fucking scary.”

I shook my head. “Their poor mother. I would kill myself.”

Zeke shifted in his chair. “She passed away when they were little.”

I put my head in my hands, looking down. “Fuck. That’s terrible. I’m sorry,” I said, glad Tyler wasn’t around to see me stick my foot so far into my mouth.

“It’s okay,” Zeke said. “You didn’t know.”

Tyler returned with a tray of shots and passed them around. He held up his glass.