“Remember the homecoming touchdown your sophomore year?” Milo laughed through a big bite of his burger. “You smokedthe Chipley secondary in a post route for an eighty-seven-yard pass. Secured the regional championship for us.”
“I twisted my ankle on that play. Then the team piled on, and I limped off the field with an ankle sprain, three bruised ribs, and a dislocated shoulder. Had to sit out the state championship.”
“Still a great game, man. When the guys get together, we still talk about it.” Milo reached for his soda. “Dude, you should join us one night. We gather on the deck of the Fish Hook. They’d love to see you.”
“Maybe.” The placeholder answer for “probably not.” In Matt’s mind, it was just that kind of night, one of chest-thumping and bragging, that destroyed Booker’s life. The aftermath tainted Matt’s Sea Blue Beach and Nickle High memories. It was why he hated coming home. Why he let strangers crash his place and destroy it. Maybe even a factor in why he hit Dale Cranston.
“You ever talk to Booker?” Milo said, looking at Matt over the rim of his soda cup.
“Where’d that question come from?”
“The look on your face.”
“No, I don’t talk to him.”
Thankfully, Milo changed the subject. Updated Matt on his latest girlfriend and how she might be the one. He’d bought a place in town and was fixing it up little by little. Then the side door opened, and the lovely Harlow walked in.
“Isn’t thisThe Life of Riley?” she said with a big smile.
“Harlow, hey.” Matt closed up his lunch container. The fries were already cold.
“I brought you something.” She shoved a bag from Sweet Conversations through the bars as Milo exited the room, answering a call on his radio. “Be careful when you bite,” she whispered. “There’s a teeny-tiny file inside. You’ll be out of here in six months, maybe a year.”
He wanted to reach through the bars and kiss her. “Is it chocolate? ’Cause if it’s not chocolate, I don’t think I can—”
“Who do you take me for? Of course it’s chocolate.” She rested her head against the bars. “Matt, why didn’t you tell me you were getting arrested? All because of me. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m in here because of me.” He raised her chin so he could see her eyes. “This may not be the right time to tell you, but . . .” Matt tested his confession, hungry to say something real and true. “Well, I think I’m falling for—”
“Matt.”Milo, you dumb lug.“Your deliverer is here.” He came around the courthouse entrance with Bodie Nickle, who was dressed in golf clothes.
“I should go.” Harlow skirted around Milo and Bodie. “See you later, Matt.”
Milo watched her go, then unlocked the cell. “Did we interrupt something?”
“Yep.” Matt offered his hand to Bodie. “Thanks for coming.”
He tugged off his golf glove. “It’s been a long time.”
“Are you sure you want to defend me?”
Bodie smirked. “I’m sure. Listen, we’re going straight into the judge. We have Harris, not Hart, which is in our favor.” Milo cuffed Matt again. “Let me do the talking. You only answer when spoken to, otherwise keep your mouth shut.” Bodie gave him a long, hard look. “Think you can do that?”
“Yeah, I can.”
In the courtroom, Bodie chatted up the state attorney. They laughed and mimed golf swings. When the clerk called his case number, Bodie motioned Matt forward.
The charges were read, and the judge asked, “How do you plea?”
Bodie answered. “Not guilty, Your Honor.”
“So you’re Matt Knight, the actor?” Judge Harris glared at him.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Loved you inFlight Deck. Don’t love you in my courtroom. What are you doing in Sea Blue Beach?”
“Visiting my grandmother. Trying to save the Starlight.”
