Page 10 of Meet Me in the Valley
I HATE YOU.
Logan
Love you too :)
“Alright, who’s the guy?”
My shoulders jump as Isabel’s melodic voice croons in my ear. I clutch my phone to my chest on instinct, like she just caught me with my hand in the cookie jar.
She’s a bombshell type of pretty, with long chestnut waves that cascade down her to the middle of her back, honey skin, and big ol’ blue doe eyes where mischief lives full-time.
Isabel has her tongue in her cheek, giving me a bemused expression. I narrow my gaze at her, placing my phone on the bar top.
“There’s no guy,” I say, trying for nonchalant. But my face heats anyway, like it didn’t get the memo.
Great. Real smooth.
“Bullshit,” nodding her head at my phone. “Do you smile like that for me when I text you?” She raises one eyebrow in question.
“As a matter of fact, I do. Especially when you have something cute to say, unlike now.”
Isabel giggles, pulling me in for a hug. We haven’t seen each other since the summer when we started hanging out more often. After everything with Audrey and her psycho ex-boyfriend, Logan and I spent most of our summer in Oakwood Valley strengthening friendships and staying close to family.
Iz and I got really close. I’ve loved having a fashion designer friend—Isabel owning Lavender Lane Boutique down on Main Street has its perks. I get discounts on the cutest clothes and shoes, and soon she’ll have her own lingerie line. It’s been nice for Audrey and I to add another girl to our little gang to break up the testosterone.
Speaking of testosterone—it’s walking toward me looking like three tall drinks of water.
My handsome boys.
I squeal and slip out of Isabel’s hold, hurrying toward Donovan’s little brothers, Wyatt and Kerry, and Kerry’s best friend, Jackson.
Kerry and Wyatt share the same chocolate brown hair, olive skin, and those deep blue eyes that always draw attention—same genetics, completely different energy.
Kerry’s all boyish charm, easy grin and soft edges. The kind of guy who still opens doors without thinking twice.
Wyatt, though? He’s the brooding one. Quiet. Intense. Both arms sleeved in tattoos that make people wonder, but never brave enough to ask.
And then there’s Jackson—buzz cut, sharp jaw, and a smirk that screams trouble. He’s got that whole“I promise I’ll ruin your life, but you’ll enjoy it”thing going on.
I crash into Kerry first as he lifts me in the air, swinging me around once before placing me on my feet. I kiss him on the cheek, doing the same with Wyatt and Jackson, who both give me bone-crushing hugs that make my heart clench.
“Welcome back, T. It looks amazing in here,” Kerry beams, eyes wandering the bar that I’ve successfully turned into a shrine for Audrey and Donovan. I may have gone a little overboard, but those two deserve more than I could ever give them after everything they’ve gone through.
Gold framed pictures of the two of them are scattered throughout the cocktail tables I set up throughout the large open space. A few I set on the bar top itself. Sweet memories live in these photographs, and I hope they make Audrey and Donovan smile when they see them.
“It really does. Doesn’t even look like my bar anymore,” Jackson adds, throwing me a wink. He slinks his way behind the counter, setting up five shot glasses in a row.
The hum of people arriving grabs my attention, and I don’t realize the smile wide on my face until my cheeks ache. My mom and dad walk in with Donovan’s parents, Audrey’s grandfather, and Logan’s dad in tow.
Logan and I had an early morning flight in Austin, getting to California only a few hours ago. I barely had time to roll my suitcase through my parent’s front door, let alone say a proper hello to them.
“Give me a sec, y’all.”
“Y’all,” Kerry mimics in an overdone southern drawl. “She’s been in Texas too long.”
I playfully slap his shoulder and roll my eyes at him. As I walk away, I hear my friends repeating the wordy’alllike a bunch of annoying seagulls with their exaggerated Texas accents. I don’t have to look over my shoulder as I flip them all off, causing a wave of laughter behind me.
I lock eyes with my dad first, filling my chest with a comforting warmth that I only get from his bright smile. People have always said I have my daddy’s smile. It’s a trait I’m extremely proud to share with him.
