What if she'd been trying to tell him something important?
What if he'd fucked up worse than he thought?
By the time Grant pulled up to Ryan's property that evening, he'd showered, changed, and convinced himself that going out was a terrible idea. But his dad had practically shoved him out the door, so here he was.
The bonfire was already going in the clearing—a massive blaze that threw sparks up into the dark sky. The spot was deep enough in the woods to feel private but close enough to Ryan's house that they could grab more beer if needed. Mark, Ryan, and Chris were gathered around it in camping chairs, beers in hand, looking exactly like they always did at these things.
Grant grabbed a beer from the nearby cooler and dropped into an empty chair without saying anything.
"Well, well," Ryan said. "Look who decided to join us."
"Hey." Grant popped the cap off his beer and took a long sip.
Mark leaned forward. "You look like hell, man."
"Thanks."
"No, seriously. You look like you haven't slept in three days and you're trying to solve world hunger through sheer force of will." Ryan squinted at him through the firelight. "What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Bullshit," Chris said. "You've been weird since the pageant. What happened?"
Grant stared into the fire and said nothing.
The guys exchanged looks.
"Geez," Mark said finally. "What happened? Did you and Riley split up or something? You're miserable, man."
Grant's hands tightened on the beer bottle. "It's complicated."
"Complicated how?" Ryan asked.
"It wasn't—" Grant stopped. Started again. Then decided to rip off the Band-Aid. "The whole thing wasn't real. Riley and me. We were fake dating for the reunion. It was supposed to be temporary."
The following silence was deafening.
Then Mark started laughing. "Bullshit."
"It's true."
"No, it's not." Ryan shook his head. "We were there, Grant. We saw you two together. Nobody fakes that."
"We did."
"Then you're both better actors than anyone in Hollywood, because that looked real to me," Chris said. "The way you looked at each other? The way you couldn't keep your hands off each other. That wasn't fake."
Grant's jaw tightened. "Well, it started fake. And then it became very real—for me. But obviously not for her, because she just keeps doing the same thing—bailing when something more important comes up."
"Wait, back up." Mark held up his hand. "What happened?"
Grant told them. About Riley's boss calling her into the office the day after Christmas. About her promising she'd be back in time for the pageant. About sitting there with an empty seat beside him while everyone asked where she was. About her coming to the barn to talk to him and how he told her he needed space.
When he finished, the guys were all staring at him.
"Okay," Ryan said slowly. "So she missed the pageant because work ran long."
"Yeah."
