I shoot back the most mirthless,“haha,”in the history of texting.
Cody: Come on, dude. None of us have heard from you since Vegas. It won’t be a late night. One and done if you want.
Oh, goddamnit. The last thing I need right now is another guilt trip. My resolve crumbles and I message back, sick of myself before I even hit send.
Wayne: You’re on. Be there in ten.
I’m disgusted how much it sounds like the old me. Even worse, it leaves me wondering if I stillamthe old me. I can tell myself whatever I want, but if the behavior doesn’t change, neither do I.
So why am I grabbing my keys? I could just not go. But I’m in my car, every fiber of me screaming out to blow them off.
The drive over is like a goddamn fugue state, and by the time I arrive it’s like I’m having an out-of-body experience. I stumble through the doors of the bar and barely see any of them before I hear their voices, piercing the hazy cloud of anxiety surrounding me.
“There he is,” Aaron shouts, and all the guys lift their beers in welcome. I can’t help wondering where all this ready camaraderie was on our actual trip. That was a funeral by comparison.
Somehow I wind up with a beer in my hand, doing what I can to laugh in all the right places. It’s familiar and foreign as only small town life can be. They’re all wildly different and exactly the same.
All I can think is how badly I need to get out of here.
Not just the bar.Here.
But to do that I would need something to go back to. Even if I did, leaving Katie in the lurch isn’t an option.
What the fuck am I doing here?
Polishing off my beer, I’m on the point of making my excuses and leaving when a hand snakes through the crook of my elbow. The gang snickers, and I know exactly who it is without having to turn around.
“Well hi there, stranger,” says Vicky.
Vicky. The last person I want to see.
“Hey,” I say faintly, forcing a weak smile. “We’re just having a couple of drinks.”
“No kidding? Where’s mine?” She laughs just a little too hard, and a couple of my buddies join in just so she’s not by herself. “You haven’t called me.” Trailing a fingertip down the front of my shirt, she bats her fake eyelashes at me.
“Was I supposed to?”
“Ugh.” She pouts. “Your dad said he was going to tell you I stopped by.”
“What?” It’s the first I’ve heard of it.
“I came to the ranch while you were out and he let me wait in the kitchen for you, but you never came back. I just told him to let you know I was there.”
Fat chance I’d get that message. I’m hardly talking to my dad.
“When was this?”
“A couple of days ago. That vet girl from high school was there. The chubby one.”
Rage swells up inside me. “Katie,” I say before I can stop myself.
“That’s it.” She snaps her fingers like a trap. God, she’s so fake. Of course she hadn’t forgotten the name. She goes so far out of her way to be nasty. “We ran into each other before I went inside. Your dad and I were talking about how you and I are getting back together.”
An electric sizzle races under my skin. Suddenly everything clicks into place.
“You saidwhat?” I shout, and the sharpness in my voice blows her hair back, but she blinks it off.
“Come on, sweetie.” Her fingers try to tangle with mine. “After everything in Vegas?—”
