Page 8 of Spring Break with a Bass Player
Rolling my eyes, I wait for the pot to finish then fill a mug and slide it across the counter to her before handing her the creamer.
“How about now?” I ask, pouring the creamer into my own cup when she passes it back.
“Now what?”
“Why are you sad?”
“I’m not sad. I just got here after seeing the girls from college, and I’m excited to spend time with you now that you’re not on the road.”
“That’s not it,” I press, apparently throwing out theI’ll wait for her to tell meplan. “Corbin was in Charleston too; did you guys meet up?”
Her eyes dart to the left before focusing back on me, as she lifts her mug to her lips without speaking.
Uh-oh.
“You know he lives next door, right?” I hedge and she nods.
“It’ll be fine.”
“Are you gonna tell me what happened?”
“It’s between him and me. Anyway, it doesn’t matter—he’s your best friend and in the band and all that.”
“And none of that matters if he hurt you.”
“I’m a big girl, Bridge.”
I stare at her, realizing she’s no longer the little girl that begged me to take her training wheels off before she was ready. The one who skinned her knee and cried before I picked her up and wiped her tears.
“There’s a little thing in town today, food trucks and stuff near the beach. Wanna go?”
“Sure.” She sighs, her shoulders sagging with relief as she motions toward the coffee pot. “Just put that whole thing in a to-go mug.”
“You got it.”
The sun iswarm as we walk down the street, busy with tourists and locals all mingling together. Opting for iced coffees and donuts, we join the crowd, Lettie telling me about seeing her college roommates and spending time in Charleston. It’s been a few years since they graduated, and I’m happy they were able to make a long weekend work with their schedules.
She doesn’t mention Corbin again so neither do I, the two of us meandering as we joke and laugh about everything and nothing.
Until I seeher.
And she’s definitely not alone. It’s just not who I expect.
“Hey, Saige, Haven, how are you ladies this morning?” I ask, infusing as much cheer into my tone as I can.
“Hi Bridger!” Haven practically yells and I chuckle.
“Are you having fun?”
“Yes! We’re getting slushies!”
Lettie smacks my arm with the back of her hand. “How come we’re not getting slushies?”
Her eyes are twinkling as they meet mine, and I can feel my cheeks heat because sheknowssomething’s up even if she doesn’t know what.
Clearing my throat, I turn back to Saige and Haven and note thefuck offexpression Saige is trying to hide behind a mask of indifference.
Here we go…
