Hell. He needed to fix this. Brady might've been his best friend, but Alyssa was still one of his oldest friends. He hated this awkwardness between them. "Still playing the guitar?"

She tucked a thick curl behind her ear. "Yeah, actually. And Brady sent me a new one for graduation. Wait till you see it."

He loved that she was still into something he'd taught her years ago but hated himself a little more for not having sent something himself. Damn. "My little Aly-girl, a college graduate. Hard to believe."

She rolled her eyes, but her lips held the hint of a smile.

They walked into the break room and found a table of food and three guys already digging in. Everyone looked up from their plates and their collective surprise at his appearance in the break room was nearly a tangible thing. Making friends hadn't exactly been his main objective. Then the men's attention shifted and everyone gave Alyssa an appraising glance that made Marco want to put his arm around her. Was the V-neck cut of her shirt a little low or was it just him? He just barely resisted the protective gesture and instead forced himself to make introductions. "Guys, this is Alyssa Scott. Pete just hired her as a new waitress. Alyssa, this is Tommy, Eric, and Van."

She grasped the back of the chair next to Eric. "Hey." Eric rose and gestured to the chair. She stepped away and he pulled it out for her, both of their cheeks pinking as she sat.

Marco eyeballed Eric, groaning internally as he saw the awe settling onto the younger man's face. Fucking perfect.

"Thanks," she said. "So...what's good?"

"Everything," Van said, passing her a mixed plate of appetizers. "But then I'm biased."

"Why's that?" she asked as she accepted the plate.

"Because I'm the chef." He winked at her.

She grinned. "That either means your opinion should receive extra weight or none at all." She looked at the other guys. "Which is it?"

Her question hung in the air a moment, and then everyone started laughing and ribbing Van in turn.

It was totally amazing to watch, but Alyssa's willingness to jump right into the fray with this group of men who had known one another for a long time broke the ice, and the food and conversation flowed freely afterward. She asked them about their jobs at Whiskey's and answered their questions in return-much more comfortably than she'd answered his, he noticed regretfully. Pete finally joined them and her thoughtful questions about how the business worked clearly won him over. She treated Van's dry humor, which put some people off, like a challenge, until it almost seemed they were in a competition of one-upmanship that had everyone chuckling and eyeing her in a new way-including him.

Who was this confident, quick-witted woman?

The Alyssa he knew was shy, reserved, often timid and uncertain-exactly what she'd had to be to survive in her father's house. Pride flowed through him that she'd achieved this transformation once she'd escaped the abuse, but his gut also twisted. He'd seen a little of that old Alyssa out by the bar when he snapped at her.

Part of him wanted to pull her out of the room to apologize. Part of him said this was exactly why he was no good for her right now. For anyone.

Just one more piece of evidence he wasn't any goddamn hero.

He pushed his plate away.

Alyssa wiped her mouth and dropped her napkin to her empty plate. "Well, Chef, I have to give credit where it's due. Everything was great, and I'm stuffed."

Van grinned. "Pete has me put out a spread like this most days, so we'll do it again soon."

"I've never met free food I didn't like, especially when it's this good. So, I'll be here as much as Pete puts me on the schedule. You'll be sick of me in no time."

"I doubt that," Eric said in a quiet voice. He flinched the moment the words left his mouth, like he hadn't meant to speak out loud. Marco cut his gaze to the other man and found himself again fighting the goddamn frustrating urge to lean to the right and drape his arm over Alyssa's shoulders.

Pete stood. "Little lady, you can have as many shifts as you want. Like I said, I'm short-handed."

Everyone else rose from the table, and Alyssa pitched right in cleaning up, asking to be shown where the dirty dishes went.

"Come on, we'll make this the first stop on that ten-cent tour I promised. It's all very glamorous."

Chuckling, Alyssa grabbed a stack of plates and utensils. "Great to meet you, guys. See you later." She threw a small smile at Marco.

A chorus of good-byes sounded out as she left. Pete's voice chattered down the hall as he bent Alyssa's ear about the business.

Van rounded to Eric's side of the table with a big shit-eating grin on his face, and smacked him on the shoulder. "Down, boy."

Eric threw Van's arm off and scowled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Van laughed. "Play it that way if you want, but maybe next time you should keep your tongue in your face."

The two of them scuffled and fake-punched their way out the door, laughing and taunting as they went. Marco sat heavily against the edge of the table as that damn ache planted itself behind his ear once again.

Chapter Three

In the course of a few hours, Alyssa felt like she'd taken a giant step toward making her dreams come true. She'd landed a job where the pay was good, the work was interesting and busy enough to make the time pass quickly, and all the people she'd met so far were nice. The only thing that kept the day from being a total win was Marco's hot-and-cold mood changes.

What the hell had happened to him? He'd been patronizing, snappish, and standoffish. None of those were traits she'd ever associated with the guy, and it made her sad to think something could've changed him so. There were still moments, though, when she saw the old Marco. The real Marco-she refused to believe anything else. She could've sworn he'd been happy when he first saw her, and he'd clearly been trying to make amends for his moodiness as he'd escorted her to lunch. Maybe it was just his surprise after such a long time apart?

Luckily, the rush of the dinner service and fun atmosphere that night's local band created kept her from sitting idly and pondering on it. Just as the doors were to open for the six o'clock service, Pete had suggested she head home, citing the fact she'd been there since the morning, but she volunteered to stay. And since she had a pair of black jeans in her car that allowed her to comply with the black-and-white-uniform requirement, she figured it was better to learn the tricks of the trade so she could start waiting her own tables and making her own tips sooner. Besides, sleep was overrated, especially when you weren't sure where you were sleeping.

"Thanks for letting me shadow you tonight, Kim. Hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience," Alyssa said to the friendly older waitress she'd been assigned to for the night.

"No problem, sweetie. You were a help. It was busier than normal for a Thursday. People are out enjoying the nice weather, I expect."

"Yeah. And that band was awesome," Alyssa said. She'd never heard them before, but they'd had a fantastic energy and presence onstage.

"They cycle through here every couple months. It's always great to see them." Kim paused at a table and withdrew something from her apron. "Here. This is for you."

Alyssa stared at the folded bills in Kim's hand. "Oh, no. That's yours."

The woman grasped her palm and pressed the money into her fingers. "Like I said. You were a help. You brought drinks, delivered orders, and cleared plates. So it's only fair. Besides, whenever you start a new job there's always a little lag before you get your first check. And I figure, when you're young, every bit helps." Kim winked.

Alyssa blinked away the moisture suddenly filling her eyes, bowled over by Kim's kindness. But, see? Things always worked out. Now, she only had to figure out how to get through the week until her first paycheck. She'd make it work somehow. "Thank you," she said.

"Don't you worry about it."