Second Chance Boyfriend

guys in the place, I can’t make out who’s who. No way could I find my friends in this crowd. I need to get the hell out of here. I need to get home, but I’m far from my apartment complex, which is clear on the other side of town. My truck is at the restaurant Fable works at.
    I’m freaking stranded.
    Frowning, I pull my cell out of my pocket and study the dark screen. I could do it. I practically dare myself to type in the one word that might send her to me.
    Or that word might make her run away. It should. I don’t deserve her help.
    Deciding to go for it before my balls shrivel up and retreat into my body forever, I tap out eleven letters, spelling a word that both makes me happy and haunts my thoughts.
     
    Fable
     
    My phone buzzes in my pocket just as I’m getting ready to clock out. It’s late, the restaurant was packed till the last possible minute and my feet are killing me.
    I check my messages and audibly gasp at the one word that seems to fill the screen, daring me to ignore it.
    Marshmallow
    Anger surges within me. How dare he use that word? What the hell does he want? Does he need me to rescue him yet again? I can’t believe his audacity.
    But the worry kicks in, and the anger subsides. What if he’s in trouble? He’s with those jerk assholes he doesn’t really like and probably shouldn’t trust. What if they did something to him and he’s lying in a heap on the side of the road, bleeding to death?
    God, my drama-filled brain is on overdrive tonight.
    Furious at my concern, I hurriedly type in a response to him and hit send before I can second guess myself.
    Where the hell are you?
    He answers in seconds.
    Gold Diggers.
    Ugh! He’s asking me to rescue him from a strip club? I want to kill him.
    Like I’m driving all the way out there. I don’t even have a car.
    Seconds later, he responds again.
    I left my truck at the restaurant.
    Frowning, I study the words he just sent me. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t. Rescuing him gives me hope and I should feel hopeless when it comes to Drew. He’s not worth all the heartache and drama.
    Is he?
    No key though, I finally type, feeling sorta cheery. How can I drive his truck with no key?
    “You need a ride?”
    I glance up to find Colin standing in front of me, his handsome face filled with concern. My phone beeps and I read Drew’s message, a detailed description as to the exact location where the spare key is hidden on his truck.
    Tempting me more and more to go rescue him, no matter how stupid I know the idea is.
    “Fable?”
    “Yeah, um, thanks for the ride, but I don’t need one.” I smile, realizing I need Colin to leave before I do if I don’t want him to see me drive off in Drew’s truck.
    Not that he’d know it was Drew’s truck but Colin is a smart guy. He can put two and two together real easy.
    “Are you sure?” He reaches out and touches me, his fingers drifting across my arm, and I don’t react. I might’ve yesterday. Hell, I might’ve about four hours ago, before Drew walked back into my life so easily, but now, there’s nothing.
    Absolutely nothing.
    Nodding, I offer him a bigger smile. “Really. I have a ride. But I appreciate the offer.”
    “All right. Jen’s catching a ride home with me so we’ll both see you tomorrow?”
    My first Sunday working at the restaurant, my shift starts in the midafternoon and I’ll get off at a decent time, too, since I’m only scheduled for four hours. I’m sort of excited about it. Owen and I already have plans. Either breakfast, if I can get his lazy ass out of bed, or a late dinner after I get off work. Maybe even a movie if we’re feeling ambitious.
    I feel like treating my brother to something special. He deserves it. I haven’t been around much and neither has Mom. He’s drifting and I need to reconnect with him badly. No fourteen-year-old should drift, especially my own brother.
    “See you tomorrow,” I say as I watch Colin leave with Jen by his side. I wonder if they’re a couple. And if they are, why he would flirt with me. Why would he flirt with anyone? I don’t understand the dynamics there.
    I don’t understand the dynamics between Drew and me either, so who am I to judge?
     
    * * * *
     
    I pull into the parking lot of Gold Diggers fifteen minutes later, driving around to the side of the building, where I find Drew leaning against the wall. His upper body is slouched forward, his hands nestled deep in his jeans pockets, and his head is bent. It’s