Page 13 of Best Friends for Never

I look around the small store, thankful there’s nobody around to witness this except Peggy behind the front counter. But her nose is glued to the tiny TV she keeps back there with her, and she is paying us absolutely no attention.

Which means it’s up to me to get Parker to stop ... well, whatever this is.

“Uh, Parker?”

She either doesn’t hear me or doesn’t care that I’ve said anything. She simply continues to laugh.

I shuffle closer. “Parker?”

Still laughing.

“Park?”

Still. Fucking. Laughing.

It’s gone past scathing and has landed safely in the infuriating category. Is this some trick to chase me away? To get me to leave? Because that’s exactly what I’m about to do.

Hell, it’s what Ishoulddo after the way she ended things between us all those years ago, casting me aside like I never meant anything to her, especially after I told her how I truly felt about her. Her rejection was painful enough, but what came next—her throwing away our friendship—was even worse.

I step away, ready to turn, but I can’t leave. Why can’t I leave?

Is it because I want to know why she thinks this is so funny? Or is it because it’s Parker, and I haven’t been this close to her in ten years?

I don’t know the answer, but I know I’m tired of this.

“Dammit, Peter, would you stop?”

I don’t know why I say that or where it comes from. I haven’t said that nickname since I left this town.

But that doesn’t matter because it works.

Parker goes silent, and I instantly miss her hysterical, slightly terrifying laughter.

Because this version of her? It’s much scarier than the laughing.

Her back is ramrod straight, and her gold-speckled eyes narrow, losing that lively sparkle they’ve always had. She takes a step toward me. Then another. Again.

My back hits the shelf behind me, the liquor bottles rattling.Why the hell does this tiny town have two full aisles of booze?Oh, right. Probably because there’s nothing else to do here than drink to help cope with the fact you live in the middle of nowhere.

“Don’t.”

It’s one word, but it says so much.

“You don’t have that right anymore.”

Then she turns on her heel, leaving me in the middle of Jill’s Bait & Tackle, my mind reeling and my heart hammering.

What the hell just happened?

“Noel? Is that you, bub?”

“I sure as shit hope so, or else we’re going to have a serious talk about who you’re leaving your door unlocked for, Lou Lou.”

“Boy, I swear ...,” I hear her mutter. She hates it when I call her Lou Lou, so I do it as often as possible.

I smile for the first time since Parker walked out of the grocery store.

There are so many reasons I never want to return to Emerald Grove, but my grandmother, Louise Hutton, or just Gran as everyone calls her, has never been one of them.

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