Page 22 of That Moment
“Didn’t have to. And you know damn well she’ll be there.” He tips his hat with a loud laugh. “See you Saturday.”
The flatbed rumbles away, leaving dust curling in the lot, and my stomach twists in knots.
Yeah, I’m totally fucked.
After my last guy has gone home, I grab another rag and wipe my hands, though the grease is ground so deep it won’t ever come out. Same with her. No matter how many times I tell myself to cut it clean, she lingers. Adrienne fucking Slade.
I look over at the Mustang again, sitting in the corner, like it knows the whole story already. Like it knows I’ve already lost.
Because Ranger’s right, she’ll be at that bonfire. The whole family will. And I’ll show up, same as I always do, telling myself it’s for the beer or the fire or the noise. But the truth is more pathetic than that. I’ll go because I know she’ll be there. Because I’m weak enough to want to see her laugh across the flames, weak enough to imagine her hair catching the light while every other son of a bitch in town watches too.
And I’ll stand there, pretending I don’t care, while my chest feels like it’s splitting in half. I’ve done it before. I’ll do it again. That’s the deal, that’s how it’s always been with us. Ever since that one summer night in high school… that one kiss that I’ve never gotten over. And maybe I was stupid back then, but for a brief minute, I almost believed that she and I could be something. But I learned really quick after the first guy she brought home from college, I wasn’t the type of man she was looking for at all.
But fuck if it isn’t getting harder. Every year. Every smile. Every fucking almost after another loser breaks her heart. But she’s not mine to rescue.
I drop the rag on the workbench, harder than I need to, and kill the lights in the bay. The Mustang glows under the fluorescents for one last second before the dark swallows her up.
She’ll be there this weekend, teasing me whether she means to or not. And I’ll be there, like a dumb bastard who can’t stop circling the same damn fire, praying I don’t get burned worse this time.
Chapter 5
Adrienne
The Slade Ranch glows like we bottled summer and strung it from the Aspens. Bulbs swing between trees and the barn, music hums low, and the bonfire is already rolling. The grandkids run barefoot in the grass, faces already sticky with marshmallow, dogs weaving between lawn chairs trying to lick the kids' fingers clean.
Someone’s set out half the bakery case on folding tables; the peach cobbler is already missing a corner, which means Uncle Drake got here early.
I breathe it in, savoring the smell of the fire and pretending my pulse isn’t doing that stupid skip every time headlights wash the drive.
“Look at you.” Brooklyn intercepts me before I even make it to the food table, thrusting a beer into my hand. “I hear you and the boys are planning an anniversary party for your parents. How’s that going?”
“Well, it's supposed to be a surprise, so good to see that Axel is telling everyone.”
“He said that’s why you’re running point. That and the fact that you’re always the bossy triplet in charge.”
I snort. “I’m not in charge.”
“Please,” she says, deadpan. “You’ve been running point on all three of you since you came out of the womb. But seriously, if you need my help, just let me know.”
“I appreciate it, but Axel and Aiden are helping, and I’m not letting them get out of it.”
Milly drifts up with a glass of wine, Kent at her side. “Adrienne’s been bossing us since she could talk. Don’t fight it.”
I open my mouth to fire back, but my attention keeps slipping past them, toward the driveway, the gaps in the crowd, the shadows pooling near the barn. My heart does this traitorous leap with every pair of headlights, every tall frame that isn’t him.
Stop it. You’re not looking for him.
“Relax,” Brooklyn murmurs, eyes sharp on me. “He’s always late.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” Her smirk is wicked.
And then the fire pops, sparks shooting into the air, and the crowd parts. There he is.
Scotty moves through the yard like he’s got all night, broad shoulders catching firelight, hat tugged low, stride unhurried. He claps Ranger on the back, tips his chin to Trent, and says something that makes Dolly throw her head back and laugh.
Then his gaze slides across the yard and locks on mine. The noise, the lights, all of it fades down to a hum. I look away first, because if I don’t, everyone in this yard will see exactly how badly I want him.
