Page 133 of Best Served Cold

Jonah’s standing by one of the exits, a fixed smile on his face, with Liam looming next to him.

Nora is nowhere to be seen, so I assume she, at least, was allowed to leave. She’s clearly not a woman who likes to be in the spotlight, which is something I understand. Neither do I. But my friends are right. I need to tell my truth so no one else can tell it for me. I need to stop hiding.

I clear my throat.

I touch the stone in my pocket, but I can’t speak, even though I sense my friends next to me. They’re waiting for their turns. This is our story, but it starts with my past, the incident Jonah used against Rob. It needs to, because I’m determined to finally move beyond it.

Murmuring starts in the crowd. Then Rob steps out of the back and stands behind me, his hand on my shoulder, and suddenly the words come out in a gush.

“When I was sixteen, I accidentally started a fire…”

EPILOGUE

ROB

It was Dottie’s idea to celebrate the launch of the NA canned drink line at Buchanan Brewery on what would have been Sophie’s wedding day. I’ve got to hand it to her. For a sweet old lady who likes to see the good in everyone, she’s got a good handle on dramatic timing.

She gave a pretty memorable speech at the start of the launch party, too, saying life doesn’t always work out the way we expect, but it always works out the way it’s supposed to.

I don’t agree with that, but I can’t find much to complain about these days. Work is good. Emil is happy and healthy with Ann’s daughter—and “Grandma Ann,” as she calls herself, gives him scratcher tickets every time they see each other, even though he’s technically not old enough to redeem them. And, most of all, I’ve got Sophie.

I’m in love with her. Deeply, madly in love with her. She’s been the muse for more songs already. The music has been flowing out of me like a river, and even though the songs are more sweet than sad, more protective than angry, the other guys like them.

We’re supposed to play a couple of them tonight at the party, but neither Bixby nor I have heard from Travis all day. We’ve gotless than half an hour before we’re supposed to play. I’m in the thick of the party, with Sophie and our other friends, but my gaze keeps straying to the clock as the minutes pass by without any word from him.

This isn’t something I tell people much, but I can be a worrier. When my mom wasn’t doing well, she’d drop off the face of the earth, and that would be the first sign she was drinking again. The worry is worse now because Travis is the sort of guy who always answers his phone, sometimes even when he shouldn’t.

Sophie squeezes my hand, and I lower my gaze to her. She’s wearing a white dress as a finalscrew youto Jonah, who isn’t here for obvious reasons.

Word travels fast in a small community, and even though Asheville is a hell of a lot bigger than it used to be, parts of it still feel and act small. Everyone in the brewery world knows exactly what Jonah tried to pull, not just by dating four women at the same time, but also by trying to blackmail Sophie and me about her past.

Nora Leigh, GingerBeerBabe, played her role in taking him down, just like Sophie and her friends did. She hasn’t reached out to them, though. It’s obvious she’d like to move past the whole thing.

From what I’ve heard, Jonah’s no longer in the beer distribution game. He’s gone to work for our father, something he’d sworn he would never do.

Doesn’t matter. Sophie and her friends got what they needed: this town knows Jonah for who he is.

My girl frowns at me. “You’re worried. Let’s go check on Travis.”

“I’m not taking you away from this,” I say, waving a hand at the gathering. The place is packed, and ironically enough, given it’s an NA launch, half the people here are tanked.

Hannah, who rolled in half an hour late, is in rare form, her spirits too high, if anything. At least five different people have asked her what’s wrong, but she’s responded to everyone in pretty much the same way: “I’d rather focus on what’s right.”

I can tell Sophie’s not buying it, but she’s still very much a person who lets other people have what they need, especially if she loves them. Which must be why she grabs my hand and starts guiding me toward the exit.

“You going to check on Travis?” Bixby asks from his seat at the bar. No point in setting up when we don’t have one-third of the band with us, let alone a new rhythm guitarist.

“Apparently,” I say as Sophie pauses, her hand still firmly grasping mine. She’s so damn beautiful. Like an avenging angel, as likely to bop you on the head as bless you.

“I’m coming.” Hannah stumbles as she tries to get out of her high-top chair, and Briar has to give her an assist.

“Should I come too?” Briar asks uncertainly. “I told Dottie I’d help pass out samples, but it definitely seems like people have already been drinking something.”

“We’ll be back soon,” Sophie insists, then gives me a pointed look. “With Travis.”

“I’ll stay,” says Otis, getting up from his nearby stool so abruptly it nearly turns over. He was mid-conversation with a girl his own age and has clearly left her hanging. “Anything you need, Briar.”

Briar shrugs. “Okay, thanks.”

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