Page 13 of Homesick

Deciding not to acknowledge my wandering eyes, he says, “hey, you’re on my property. I can sneak up on you if I want.” Thankfully, he takes the shirt hanging from his back pocket and puts it on. “There, now you won’t be so distracted,” Blake says with a smirk.

I roll my eyes at his cockiness and cross my arms. “Nothing I haven’t already seen before,” I reply, adding in a yawn for good measure.

Blake smiles at my answer but decides to change the subject.

“What do you want, Wren? After last night, I figured you wanted to avoid me any chance you got,” he says while he begins to pick up the tools scattered in front of his truck.

“I came to apologize for last night.”

“For the puke or for being an ass.”

“For the puke.”

He throws the tools on the counter and walks over to me. “Great, so let’s hear it.”

“Umm, okay. I’m sorry for puking down the side of your truck, Blake,” I deadpan.

This time, he gives me a once over before deciding what he’s going to say next. “We both know that apology wasn’t sincere. Now let’s start over, what are you really doing here?”

That’s a great question. I honestly don’t know. Part of me feels like I need to apologize after talking to my mom this morning and then seeing Sheila, but that isn’t the real motivation behind why I decide to face my issues head-on.

“I don’t get it. When we were together, Chris hated you, but it’s like something’s changed.”

He pauses a moment, and I can see the gears in his head start to turn. “Chris and I started hanging out again about a year ago after I started working at the vet’s and then I started helping him around the farm when he needed it. I honestly didn’t think you would care. I know I was a real dick when I ended things, but hell, it’s been six years.”

I know deep down he’s right. I shouldn’t care that he and Chris are close again, but I can’t let it go. It feels like everyone in this town has moved on without me, especially my own family. I want to be a logical and level-headed human, but I feel like I’ve been an emotional wreck the minute I stepped back into this life. It’s like the past six years have been spent doing everything but healing from our break-up. It hurt that he didn’t think I’d care. Did he not care anymore either?

“Okay, that’s all I wanted to know,” I say as I look at the ground.

“Well, the offer still stands. When you’re ready, I’d really like to get to a place where we can be friends again.”

Oh god. There’s that word again. Friends.

CHAPTER 5

I turn the radio up and let my mind drift when I pull out of the Rustic Inn parking lot. These past few days have been a blur filled with unpacking, applying for jobs and rejection email after rejection email.

After the last rejection, I felt like I needed a win and that very small win happened to be landing a job at my hometown bar. I was desperate for a reason to get out of the house after a week of living under the same roof as my parents. I also wanted to avoid Chris . . . and Blake.

To make matters worse, it was torture being around him. If he wasn’t preaching about how he wanted to be friends, he was pissing me off with that toned jawline and cute-ass smirk.

I grip the steering wheel and think about how good it feels to drive. When I first got my license and I was feeling particularly angsty, I would crank up some screamo and drive in circles for hours.

Soon I see my driveway come into focus, but I keep driving. If I go home, Chris will probably be there, and there’s a good chance I won’t be able to keep dodging him. I’d have to hear about why I shouldn’t be mad that he’s friends with Blake again and I should quit being so dramatic. I roll my eyes at that thought. The man legit almost broke his toe after kicking a wall because his high school crush rejected him. But no, I’m the dramatic one.

I mindlessly drive for a few minutes until I realize I’m driving toward Emma’s house. I couldn’t care less about mending my relationship with Chris right now. I need to fix things with Emma. I’m honestly surprised my drunken attitude was enough to piss her off because she’s experienced every side of me when it comes to drinking.

Heck, she even came up with a drunk alter ego for me when we were in high school. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was upset about something else. Maybe something she’s wanted to say for a while.

* * *

After thirty minutes of driving past Emma’s driveway again and again, I finally get the courage to pull in. A few years after high school, Emma and Colt moved into a small house on the other side of Honey Grove. It suits them and the yard is big enough for Milo’s trampoline that I am so going to buy him when he gets older. I am determined to be a cool aunt and give Emma a few heart attacks along the way.

I park my car and walk to the door. I knock once and instantly hear the cries of a child. Fuck, this is not off to a good start. I hear heavy footsteps and the door opens up to Colt’s tall frame taking up most of the doorway.

I used to tease him for being a giant in school, but his height came into good use when I needed him to hoist me over the fence that surrounded the football field. Sometimes I didn’t feel like paying for a ticket to the game on Friday nights and that way, we could sneak in water bottles full of vodka.

“Wren! Long time no see!” I go rigid as Colt wraps his giant arms around me. After the initial shock, I wrap my arms around him, returning the hug.

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