So even if someone did choose me, I didn’t believe it would last. After all, my own father—the one man who was supposed to—hadn’t wanted me forever. At some point, once the shine wore off, they’d realize I wasn’t what they wanted.
Keeping things light and temporary was safer.
If I never stayed, no one could leave me.
If I never offered my heart, no one could stomp on it.
If I never let my happiness rely on someone else, no one could blindside me and rip it away.
Freedom was safer. It had to be.
34
Sebastian
“HOW’S IT GOING WITHthe girlfriend?”I texted Nathan.“She have a name yet?”
“Hillary. I never mentioned it before, huh?”he replied almost immediately.“Guess I was afraid to jinx it. Hilly, Hills. I think I’m in love. You’ll meet her when you get back. Any update on that, btw?”
“Would be happy to. Soon. Tell her hi from me.”
Ruby and I didn’t use nicknames for each other. Maybe because those felt like claiming someone as your own, and we weren’t there. Yet. I remembered calling her Ruby Tuesday—just once or twice. I never stuck with it for that exact reason.
That Rolling Stones song fit her perfectly—I didn’t have to ask why she needed to be so free, and if I did, my Ruby, like theirs, would say it was the only way to be.
“Hilly sends hi back. Plants are hanging in there. I’m out the door now. TTYL,”Nathan signed off.
I eyed the empty takeout containers with the Bar?&?Grill logo still sitting on the table before switching over to another text waiting on my screen.
“Okay. Beer. You’re on,”I typed.
I was in my rented Mustang and out of the inn’s pathway ten minutes later.
The Shore Thing in Blueshore was busy, but I spotted Brandon at the bar.
His hairline had receded since the last time I’d seen him, but he looked more confident, too. Married life, kids, responsibility—they’d settled on him in a way that fit. We weren’t best friends, but we’d managed to meet every now and then over the years. Maybe it was nostalgia more than anything else. We’d been two of the quieter ones back then, both more comfortable behind the scenes than in the spotlight, and that was enough of a bond to make the occasional beer feel easy.
“How you doing?” I patted his shoulder as I slid onto the stool beside him.
“Good! Great seeing you, man. How are you? Houston? Work? Visiting your folks?”
“Which one do you want answered first?” I smiled, signaling for the bartender to bring me what he was having.
“All of them.” He chuckled.
“Good, good, good, and yes,” I said, taking my glass. “How’s Ellie?” Brandon and Ellie were the Force Alliance club’s only success story—fifteen years married. Ruby and I had a history, too. Ten years of being something to each other. A different kind of success.
Brandon grinned like he couldn’t help it. “Started doing pickleball. She’s obsessed. And she sends her regards.” He swiped through his phone and held it out. “Can you believe I’ve got a teenager?”
The kid stared back at me from the screen, lanky and already too cool for family photos.
“Man, that age is a pain in the ass. I don’t think I gave my parents this much trouble,” Brandon said. “Then again, I was the dork who kissed his first girl at eighteen, and this guy’s had three girlfriends already.”
“And they say oranges don’t grow on apple trees.” I chuckled, scrolling through the photos of his younger kids. “They’re great kids,” I said, meaning it. Brandon and Ellie had the kind of family chaos that looked exhausting and good all at once.
He sipped his beer, then said, “Funny thing, I thought of you the other day. I heard they’re hiring engineers over at Ames in Silicon Valley. Made me wonder if you’d ever think about moving back here. Houston’s where the real action happens, so probably not.”
The comment struck heavier than I expected. I knew Ames were hiring. I’d even caught myself scrolling through their job postings once or twice, like I was testing the thought of giving myself a reason to move back.
