Page 62 of Replay

I’m unable to take my eyes away. “For real.”

“Crazier thing is…they’re not together,” Darby adds to our mini conversation but keeps her eyes on the stage.

“Is there a reason? Because damn, they should be,” Willow says, her gaze still on the duo.

Cash decides to join our conversation. “Well, for one, her dad is our head coach. Plus, she’s dating our neighbor, Jordan Andrews.”

“Who’s a total hottie and happens to be the captain of the men’s basketball team,” Bellamy chimes in.

“Oh damn...” Willow says, and I stifle a laugh. She took the words right out of my mouth. Staring at the two of them, you can feel the tension. It's so thick, it seems as if you can reach out and grab hold of it. One I’m much too familiar with these days.

When their song finishes, our table immediately stands up and gives them a standing ovation. Shay’s cheeks flood with crimson red as Mav throws his inked arm around her shoulder and walks her back to our table.

“I'm not sure what that was…but I think I just got pregnant,” Bellamy teases, fanning herself when the two sit down.

“Don’t tease like that. I'm not ready to be an auntie.” I slap her arm, and we both laugh.

Maverick’s eyes hold Shay’s stare until Darby’s words break through their trance.

“See, I told you, you could do it!” Darby cheers.

Shay nods in Maverick’s direction. “Thanks to this guy... Jack of all trades.”

She smiles at him, and he winks. “My pleasure, darlin’.”

“Hey, I'm going to grab a bucket of beer from Marie… You guys want anything else?” Bellamy asks as she pushes her chair out from the table.

“I pre-ordered some munchies with her earlier. Can you have her send it through?” I say, knowing Bellamy has just as good of a relationship with The Wolfpack bartender as I do with how often she comes to visit me at work.

We give her our requests, and as she’s about to leave, Cash stands and follows her to the bar. He’s been quiet tonight. Something has definitely been off between the two of them this past week, and I'm not quite sure what it is…

Our food arrives, and our table breaks off into small conversations as we snack and listen to some really good and some really bad singing.

After a particularly awesome “Tennessee Whiskey” rendition by an unfamiliar face in Greek letters, the karaoke host announces a fifteen-minute break, and I turn my attention to Willow. Tonight has been fun, but not ideal for catching up.

She smiles at me and grabs my hand. “I'm so happy you called me.”

My heart aches at how many times my fingers hovered over her name. But the thought of seeing and speaking to her was just as painful. I wasn’t strong enough to handle that.

“I'm so sorry—” I start to apologize, but she places her finger over my lips.

“Please don’t apologize. I get it… Trust me. I wouldn’t have been able to either.”

“Thank you.” I squeeze her hand, still in mine, admiring the scattered tattoos that trail up to her fingers.

“Your brother wasn’t lying when he said you had more than him. They look good on you.”

“I guess you can say they have been my form of therapy. I started drawing them first, then decided to give them a permanent home on my skin.”

“You drew these?” I ask as I grab her arm and pull it closer to get a better look.

She laughs at me, but points to various ones on her arms. “Some of them, not all.”

“They’re stunning.”

“Yeah, Nate even let me help with the design of the locket.”

My face must look puzzled, because Willows takes on an ‘oh shit, you don’t know’ look.

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