Both of us needed a chance to process what had happened, but before I could pull my head out of my ass, Owen was gone. I rode my bike across town to the trailer park where his family lived and found a notice from the Sheriff's Department taped to the door. Certain there was no way Owen would leave without saying goodbye to me, I pulled an old plastic milk crate over to the living room window.
There was still trash all over the floor, but the space was devoid of furniture. It was strange to see the house without his dad sitting in his broken recliner, a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other.
Unwilling to believe this was really happening, I picked up the milk crate and went to the window at the far end of the trailer. Owen’s bedroom was empty, with the exception of one poster still hanging on the wall. Tears welled in my eyes as I stared at the poster, remembering the day he’d bought it. At the time, he said it was because Mason Atley was his favorite baseball player, but now I wondered if he knew he was gay and he secretly had a crush on the athlete.
My sadness turned to fear and then rage as I realized he was really gone. The prick hadn’t even said goodbye to me. If we hadn’t kissed, I would have been the first person he called to rant about how unfair it was that his parents couldn’t get their shit together. And I could have begged my parents to let him stay with us so he didn’t have to live in constant fear that he’d be uprooted time and time again.
I had been foolish enough to think that night at the fair was the start of something between us, but it turned out only one of us felt that way. I moped around the house for weeks following, not bothering to correct my parents when they assumed Owen and I had a falling out.
“Do you actually want to help me or are you just going to sit there staring out the window as if there is someone whose ass you're getting ready to kick?” Michael handed me a crowbar and the two of us got to work busting up the warped counter top. So much for only dealing with the upper cabinets today. By the time Henry started chattering into the baby monitor, half of the kitchen was completely demolished.
“Man, I sure as hell hope you’re committed to remodeling because I'm pretty sure there's no turning back now,” I teased. Michael and I took turns cleaning up at the sink.
While he was upstairs changing Henry's diaper, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn't even need to look to know it was time for me to head back down to the park. The festival hadn’t even started and I was already looking forward to turning off my phone and pretending like the world didn’t exist after this weekend.
As soon as I was in my car, I picked up the phone and called Billy to find out what the latest emergency was.
“Hey, Boss. I know you were trying to get some rest but there's a dude here who isn't happy that we’re not set up,” Billy explained. Even though he was only a volunteer, Billy loved calling meBossto rile me up. I hated it. I wasn’t any better than him just because I had a degree on the wall and earned a paycheck from the community partnership. Hell, if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be able to do half the shit I did.
“Yeah, well, join the club,” I scoffed. There was going to be a lot of stressed out, unhappy people for the next couple days. It was just the way things went. “What's his issue?”
“He says he supposed to be setting up equipment but the stage isn't up yet. I have some of the kids coming down from Harmony House later this afternoon.” Billy’s brother was the director at the local youth center and the kids would do anything they could to help Billy. For some of them, it was an easy way to avoid going home.
As I did so many times when I passed the center, I wished there had been a place like that for us when we were kids. My home life was amazing, but there had always been those less fortunate in our working-class town.
“What'd he say when you told him that?”
“He didn't say much of anything. I don't know what’s up with him, but he's twitchy as hell. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure how I feel about him being around when the kids get here.” Billy and his entire family were incredibly protective of the kids who hung out at Harmony House.
“What do you suggest we do? I can't snap my fingers and have the stage set for him.” I massaged my temples, questioning why I’d ever thought this job was a good idea. The entire point of going away to college was to get out of Harmony Grove, and now I was sucked right into the vortex of drama with a side wallop of pressure and responsibility.
“If it was up to me, I’d tell him to come back first thing tomorrow morning. That's usually when the sound and lighting guys show up. I'm not sure why he's here so early.”
Of course, these were things I’d know if I’d stayed in town. Billy was my savior when it came to understanding how to pull off a festival like this, because he’d been volunteering every year since he was a teen.
I slowed as I entered the park, coasting down the drive. At the stop sign, I pinched the bridge of my nose, offering up a quick prayer that the throbbing didn’t turn into a migraine. A sketchy contractor wasn’t something that had even been on my radar. But I needed to know what I was walking into.
If this guy posed a threat, I'd have to reach out to Grant and tell him he needed to find a different sound guy for the weekend. No way in hell was I having my first year running the festival derailed by drama.
“I don't know, man. It's just the vibe I get. I don't think he's on anything, but he's twitchy as hell. Keeps looking over his shoulder like he's expecting someone to knock his ass to the ground.”
“Is he a local?” It was a long shot, but I knew Grant tried to keep business in town.
“I don't think so. There something familiar about him, but I can't quite place it.” I pulled into the upper park and spotted Billy standing off to the side. He noticed me and jerked his head in greeting. “Damn, didn’t think you’d be back that quick. I’ll come and meet you at the truck.”
“No need,” I assured him. If things were about to get tense, I’d prefer to get it over with. “If you want, come and unload the bed of the truck while I talk to him.”
It was a damn shame the guy fuming at the other end of the tent was a dick. Even from over two-hundred feet away, there was no denying he had a magnificent ass. And the sex-deprived recesses of my brain couldn’t help but imagine yanking his hair out of that ridiculous man-bun so I could fist the dark brown locks in my hands as I fucked his mouth.
You know, if he was gay and not a complete prick. The former was still up for debate, but it was a moot point because of the latter.
I squared my shoulders as I marched my way through the tent, hoping I seemed like I was completely in control and the man he had to answer to. As I neared, I heard him ranting on the phone to someone about how disorganized we were. The dude could go fuck himself about that, since he was the one who was eighteen hours early according to Billy.
I cleared my throat as a subtle warning that he wasn’t alone. He quickly ended his call. When he spun around, itching for a fight, my knees nearly gave out.
Despite the extra muscle on his frame and the scruff covering his jaw, I’d know that body and face anywhere. And the eyes… Fuck, those brown eyes had haunted me for years.
“O-Owen?” His name came out as little more than an undignified squeak. I tugged on the collar of my t-shirt, wondering why it was suddenly impossible to breathe.
