“Hey,” Sawyer says, mouth still full of garlic bread. “Watch it.”
Quinn tries to hide her smile behind another bite of spaghetti, but Allie pats Sawyer’s head patronizingly. “We love that you’re as vicious as a rabid raccoon, babe. Never change.”
Sawyer scoffs. “As if I would ever change.”
“I’d change for garlic bread,” I say, reaching for the last piece—but Wes’ hand is already hovering above it. We both freeze.
His eyes narrow. “You already had three.”
“I’m a growing boy,” I counter.
Quinn sighs, but amusement flickers in her gaze. “Why don’t you split it?”
“It’s garlic bread,” we say in unison.
Wes lunges, and I swipe the slice from his hand, knocking the ladle from the saucepan in the process. The garlic bread flies toward Sawyer, and the empty basket skitters across the table.
Allie shrieks, staring down at the red splotches covering her blouse. “I’ve been shot!”
Sawyer snatches the last slice of garlic bread from where it landed in front of her. “Y’all don’t deserve this after that ridiculous display.” She takes a triumphant bite.
“This was my favorite shirt,” Allie gripes, glaring at me.
“Wes started it,” I mutter, sitting back in my chair, trying not to let my grin show.
“You’re the one that knocked over the ladle,” Wes argues.
Sawyer quietly polishes off the last bite of garlic bread. “The pig probably has better manners than you two.”
Quinn laughs, the sound soft and tinged with nostalgia. For a second it feels like it did when we were all back in high school—warm, loud, messy.
“You guys haven’t changed at all.”
The laughter lingers even after the noise fades, but eventually, the evening winds down. Wes and Sawyer retreat to their place, and Allie leaves not long after the dishes are done, still mourning the loss of her favorite shirt, which leaves me and Quinn alone in the kitchen.
She hits me with a smile that makes it hard to breathe and asks, “Want to come out to the barn with me to check on Winston?”
“Sure,” I say, despite knowing I desperately need a shower. I’ve always been terrible at saying no to Quinn.
She grabs the leftover vegetables from dinner, and I follow her outside.
The gray pig gives a noisy squeal as soon as he realizes Quinn brought him a treat. She tosses some cucumber slices and carrots into the bowl and looks at him adoringly as he lets out happy grunts, tail wagging.
“He’s cute, right?” she asks, peeking at me out of the corner of her eye.
I lean against the post and watch him knock over the bowl, searching for more and emitting a loud screech when he finds none.
“Adorable,” I agree with a wince.
She laughs. “Yeah, well, maybe he’s my midlife crisis.”
I huff. “You’re too young for a midlife crisis, Quinnie. And finding animals to take care of is hardly a new pastime for you.”
“True.” Quinn heaves a heavy sigh as she scratches Winston behind the ears. “I always knew what I wanted to do, but after working so hard to get where I wanted to be... I don’t know... I thought it would feel sweeter. Maybe it would have if I hadn’t royally messed up my personal life.”
My lips tug down in a frown. “He cheated onyou, Quinn. You didn’t mess anything up.Hedid.”
She shrugs. “Yeah, maybe.”
