“Bailey,” Nate called after him because he was wandering past the bar toward the swath of trees on the other side of the back parking lot. This was not good. He should not be alone right now for a plethora of reasons. Not least of all, because Tanner was still lurking about, even though he’d been chased off for now.
Abruptly, Bailey dropped into a crouch in the middle of the lane. His head was cradled in his hands and his shoulders trembled. Nate stopped too, the dread of not knowing how to react in a situation pricking across his skin.
Maybe he should leave Bailey alone. He glanced toward where Tanner's head was disappearing into his car. The door slammed shut, and he peeled out of the lot, which meant there was less of a risk of him trying to drag Bailey into it again if Nate left.
Besides, none of this was Nate’s business anyway.
But then Bailey spoke, voice muffled because he kept his head buried in his knees. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
He seemed intent on staying crouched in the middle of the parking lot for the time being, so Nate decided it was probably not a good idea to leave him alone. He went over and crouched beside him, a respectable distance away, and kept an eye out for approaching cars.
“Don’t apologize for what that asshole said,” Nate chided gently. “Are you okay?”
Bailey turned his head and crossed his arms over his knees to rest his cheek on them. A teary glaze over his eyes immediately sent alarms blaring in the back of Nate’s head. He opened his mouth to spout some bland reassurance, but before he could, Bailey pursed his lips and said, “I guess what I mean is that I hope you don’t think badly of me because of what he said.”
Nate’s mouth snapped shut, flabbergasted.
“Like,” Bailey took one of his hands off his shoulders and waved it about, “that’s not…I wasn’t ever trying to goad you or anything.”
They had, quite literally, never talked about their fights.
Nate nodded in agreement, even though they were both guilty of goading each other on countless occasions. But never in the way Tanner implied, that was for sure. He was not about to point that out, not when he was terrified that if he made the wrong move or said the wrong thing, the tears wobbling along Bailey’s lashes might fall down his cheeks.
Bailey had cried in front of him plenty of times before. When a person gets punched in the nose, their eyes water no matter what. But never had the tears been accompanied by the desperate tremble of his lip that gave away how valiantly he was fighting to keep them back.
“I didn’t listen to a word that fucker said,” Nate assured him.
Bailey huffed a laugh, eyes crinkling up with surprised amusement. That did make the tears fall, but Bailey looked toward the sky and wiped them away quickly, a small smile on his face.
“That’s good.” He sniffed.
Nate wanted to ask where the hell all that talk came from, but he had just said he did not listen to a word of it. It was not his place to be curious.
“Do you want to go…” Nate floundered. He just wanted to get Bailey away from where Tanner’s words were still echoing against the sides of the cars. And out of the center of the lane. But who the hell was he to be the one to take Bailey anywhere? He glanced back toward the bar. “Do you want me to go grab a friend for you?”
Bailey sighed, obviously not pleased with that option.
“Okay,” Nate said slowly, looking over at him. “Let’s at least stop crouching in the middle of the parking lot. Come on, up you go.”
He helped Bailey to his feet, squashing down the little flutter in his gut when Bailey’s fingers wrapped around his wrist. They shuffled toward a grassy median with a couple of young trees growing out of it. Bailey pointedly avoided looking toward the bar. Then he let out another sigh.
“I just want to go home,” he admitted in a small voice. “But my friend Katie was my ride here, and she’ll want to know what’s up and why I want to leave, and I’ve subjected her to enough of my relationship drama. She’s tired of hearing me go on about him.”
So, he and Tanner were still together. Nate clenched his fist, then released it and tamped down the urge to punch something.
He doubted any good friend would be tired of being supportive, but he didn’t know Bailey and his friends, so he kept his mouth shut about that. The resignation in Bailey’s voice and the strangeness of the entire situation made him brave enough to offer, “I could give you a ride home.”
He tried to appear as casual as possible when Bailey’s head whipped up, revealing his narrowed eyes. “I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.”
“I don’t,” Nate insisted, “I figured since I was heading out anyway, I could drop you off.”
Nate had only just arrived. He hadn’t even stepped foot in the bar yet, but Bailey did not necessarily know that. Being the only fun bar in town for young people meant that it got crowded on Friday nights when they had live music and whatever else. Between the number of people and the different little spots to hang out—the inside bar, outside bar, pool table nook, restaurant seating area inside and out, and the back patio—it was feasible that they had not run into each other all night. Not really, because they were like magnets, but maybe it was viable enough for Bailey not to call him out.
“All right,” he shrugged.
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