I wondered if Luke ever got lonely. I also wondered if he ever thought of me the way I thought of him. It seemed unlikely.
“Anyway,” Nic said. “We’ll be at Tipsy’s. It’s the only place that stays open on the holidays.”
I almost asked him if I could go with him but I stopped myself. Catching up with him would be fun, right up until the subject of my life came up. The moment he asked me how work was or what I’d been up to, I would be forced to relive my embarrassment in front of the hottest boy I’d ever known.
That was a hard pass from me. I couldn’t handle any more emotional ups and downs tonight.
“You guys have fun,” I said. “Tell him I say hi.”
“Will do.”
After he left, I took Bailey for a walk around the block, still trying to feel useful. A cold front had come in and I regretted not bringing a coat.
Just one more thing I hadn’t seen coming.
CHAPTER 5
LUKE
It was Saturday morning after Thanksgiving, and I was just pulling up in front of Nic’s parents’ house. The place hadn’t changed in the last decade since I’d been there. The years blurred and faded away, and for a moment, it felt like I was pulling up in my old truck like I was back in high school again.
That feeling lasted until I hopped out of my rented luxury SUV and my bum knee reminded me I wasn’t a teenager anymore. The old injury had ended my football career. The knee was fine most days, but it still griped at me from time to time, telling me to get back behind my desk.
Nic pulled open the door with his parents right behind him. I held up the pies my mother had baked for them, one apple, one pumpkin. “Hello, Snow family!”
Nic took the pies from me and his parents rushed to give me hugs like I was still the little shit who had tracked mud on their carpet and gave Nic his first beer. It was nice to be around people who didn’t see me as a celebrity.
I had told my mom I was coming over here to say hi to them before Nic and I went to lunch. Mom had insisted on sending me with desserts. They looked almost as excited about the piesas they were about me. Mom’s baking was legendary in Harrison City.
When I met up with Nic at the bar two nights ago, he had asked me if would swing by and come see his folks. It had been years, so I agreed. I was glad I had.
We took some selfies together and they insisted I stay for a slice of pie. Nic told them we were about to go eat, but I let them hustle me to the dining room table, telling Nic we could have dessert first.
He shrugged and sat down with us, then inhaled two slices of pumpkin pie before I was halfway through my slice of apple. I had forgotten how much food he could put away. A man his size needed the calories, I supposed. My friend looked like he could lift engines with his bare hands down at his shop. Definitely not a man you wanted to piss off.
His parents asked how the family was, and I caught them up on the ranch and how my brothers were consulting out in Houston. They asked about work, and I told them the truth, that it was amazing but hectic. Most days I barely had time to breathe.
“Being home these last few days has been weird,” I said. “It’s forced me to slow down a little, and I’m starting to think I could use some more time off.”
“Can’t work all the time,” Mr. Snow said.
“But I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s important to you,” Mrs. Snow said. “You’ll figure out the life you want to live instead of the life you think you’re supposed to live.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you trying to get me to move back to Harrison City?”
She looked away and shrugged innocently. “There’s certainly room for you, and the high school football team has been terrible these last few years. I’m sure they could use a new coach.”
“Now that’s a wild idea,” I said, laughing. “It’s good to know I have something to fall back on if this broadcasting thing doesn’t work out.”
We started wrapping things up. I was saying my goodbyes to Nic’s parents when his phone rang. He answered and went into the next room. I couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying but it sounded like he was talking someone down off a ledge.
I grimaced and glanced at his parents. “That doesn’t sound good.”
Mrs. Snow wrung her hands in front of her. “I wonder if it’s Clara. She’s supposed to be moving some of her stuff in here today.”
At the mention of her name, my ears perked up like a hunting dog’s. “Clara’s moving back home?”
“Oh, yes,” Mr. Snow said. “You hadn’t heard?”
