“She will.”
We both know it’s true.
I only have a few minutes to talk with Kingston as I get ready and head back out the door to the party I don’t even want to be at.
By the time I pull into the parking lot outside the community center, the night’s come alive. Orange string lights glow along the porch, and laughter spills out into the cool Montana air. Pumpkins line the steps. Music thumps faintly from inside. Signs line the walk way telling Miles and Kinley how much the town will miss them.
I kill the engine and take a breath. My reflection in the rearview shows a guy who looks like he could pass for the old me—broad shoulders, dark hair that’s longer than Ruby would approve of, flannel buttoned halfway, a fake sheriff’s badge pinned to my chest for irony. The hat’s on the passenger seat. I shove it on.
There. Costume complete.
Inside, it smells like cider, sugar, and nostalgia. Ruby’s gone all out, as usual. Spiderwebs hang from the beams, a fog machine fills the corners with mist, and the snack table looks like a Pinterest board threw up on it.
“Look who decided to show his face.”
Ruby swoops in, a witch’s hat tilted on her curls, smile bright enough to light up half the county. She throws her arms around me before I can dodge. “You look handsome as ever, Kacen.”
“Ruby,” I say, half laughing. “I told you this isn’t really my scene.”
“You’ve been gone long enough. It’s time the town saw you again.”
“Pretty sure no one missed me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Half the women here perked up the second you walked in.”
I glance around. “Half the women here are married.”
“Not all,” she says with a sly grin.
“Ruby—”
“ Grab a drink. Mingle. Oh, and stay away from the punch, Hades already stuck his nose in it when he snuck in earlier.”
I blink. “The wolf?”
I remember Kingston telling me about him on one of our phone conversations.
“Of course, the wolf. He likes the smell of cinnamon.” She pats my arm and flits off to fuss over someone else.
I shake my head and make for the bar. Maybe if I nurse one beer, I can say I did my duty and sneak out early.
The bartender, Orville and Ruby’s nephew, Jonas, I think, hands me a cold bottle. I turn toward the crowd.
That’s when I see her.
Natalie.
She’s standing near the back, talking to Ruby, dressed in a sleek black dress that hugs her curves and has light-up butterfly wings. Her hair falls over her shoulders in loose waves. Her laugh, low, confident, nothing like the nervous sound I remember, cuts through the noise like it’s the only thing that exists.
For a second, I forget how to breathe.
Ten years shouldn’t still feel like yesterday. But looking at her, it does.
The last time I saw her, she was crying in the hallway because of me. Because of the stupid, cruel prank I thought was funny. Because I didn’t have the guts to admit I liked her. Instead, I turned her into a joke because I was hurting and wanted to blame her for something I should have been blaming her mom for.
My stomach twists. I take a long drink, hoping it burns away the memory.
She glances up. Our eyes meet.
