To his credit, Owen looked just as stunned as I felt. “Tyler? Fuck, man, it’s good to see you.”
I feinted to the side when Owen approached with his arms stretched wide. I only felt like a little bit of an asshole when his expression fell and his shoulders curled forward as he dropped his arms to the sides. This fucker left me without a trace; he didn’t get to saunter back into my life like no time had passed.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” I asked, willing my expression to stay impassive. He didn’t deserve to see how conflicted I was to have him standing so close to me after more than a decade.
Owen pointed to the stack of equipment near one of the support poles. “Well, I was hoping to get the sound system set up and get started on the lights, but apparently there was some miscommunication.”
That’s the understatement of the damn century.
He’s talking about the equipment.
You think I don’t know that?
Fuck. Now I was legit arguing with myself.
I bit back the sarcastic comments dying to roll off my tongue, remembering that I had a job to do. “Did Eddie know you were planning to set up today? That’s typically something that’s done on Friday morning so there’s less chance of anyone messing with the gear when the park’s empty.”
Owen pulled a slip of paper out of his back pocket and handed it to me. I tried to pretend I wasn’t jealous of the warm paper that was slightly damp and molded to the shape of Owen’s ass. I’d lusted after that ass back when he was still gangly with no muscle tone anywhere. That was obviously a predicament he’d grown out of.
I shook the paper to unfold it, holding it in both hands so it didn’t shake. Sure as shit, the order had today’s date on it even though it said Friday. “No one thought to verify which was right?”
“What are you talking about?” Owen seemed genuinely confused. And maybe he was. From the little bits I’d gathered during my eavesdropping so I could hear the rich timbre of his voice before I knew it belonged to the only man I’d ever let close enough to hurt me, he was just an employee doing his job, the same as me. I handed him the order sheet, watching his eyes scan the words. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, someone screwed up,” I said, as if he didn’t already know that. “I wouldn’t set up today if I was you. The cops aren’t scheduled to start patrolling up here until tomorrow, and the security camera trailers are coming first thing in the morning. I mean, you can do whatever you want, but we’re not going to be responsible if anything goes missing.”
“I don’t expect you to be.” Owen rolled his head to one side and then the other. I cringed at the sound of vertebrae cracking. When Owen looked back at me, he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. “Sorry, I forgot how much that grosses you out.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not like I expect you to remember everything. It’s been a long time.” I wanted to be a dick and storm away from him, but I felt bad. His shirt was already damp and clinging to his back from lugging the gear into the tent in the heat by himself. That didn’t mean I was volunteering to follow suit. “You know, if you’re careful, you should be able to pull in between the supports. I’ll make sure you don’t hit the edge of the canvas.”
“Thanks.” Owen paused, his mouth open slightly, as if he had something else to say. I narrowed my eyes and he pressed his lips together. The tension between us was thicker than the humid air as I followed him to the edge of the tent.
While he continued on to his SUV, I looked around for a pole or stick long enough to push up on the edge of the tent. One of the few warnings I’d received was about not letting anyone except the beer trailer guys drive into the tent because apparently someone had ripped a panel a few years ago and it caused huge problems for the partnership that they were still reeling from. And all it took was one look at Owen and I crumbled, forgetting the advice I’d been given.
CHAPTERTWO
OWEN
I triedeverything to get out of working this particular festival. It had been thirteen years since I’d set foot in Harmony Grove, and I’d have been just fine going a lifetime without having to see the pain and anger in Tyler’s eyes. I deserved it, of course, but that didn’t mean I was eager to stare down my mistakes.
For all the times I’d imagined what I’d say to him if I ever got the chance, having him in front of me made me realize there was nothing to say. It wasn’t his fault we never talked after that night. I’d like to say it wasn’t mine either, but that was a damned lie. If I hadn’t been afraid of what he’d say, I could have easily picked up a phone and dialed the number I knew by heart. I’d even tried a few times, but I always hung up before I got to the last number.
As the days apart turned into months, it seemed easier to convince myself he’d forgotten about me rather than make a fool out of myself by calling him. Eventually, I tried to block that summer from my mind, even though erasing Tyler from my memory proved an impossible feat.
I white-knuckled the steering wheel for a few seconds before turning the key. I needed time to compose myself. He hadn’t said as much, but Tyler made it clear he had zero interest in revisiting the past. Maybe that was for the best, but damn if it didn’t leave my chest with a heavy, hollow pit.
I coasted into the tent, paying attention to Tyler’s hand signals. I knew better than to drive under these canvas tents, and it honestly surprised me that the consummate rule follower was letting me do it. His pursed lips and wide eyes fixed on the roof of my SUV showed that he wasn’t thrilled about it.
“Thanks for the help,” I said as I hopped out of the truck. If we were going to find a way to co-exist for the next few days, I’d have to be the one to take the lead. Tyler followed me to where my gear was stacked on a piece of plywood and hefted a crate. “You don’t have to do that. I’m the one who got ahead of myself and unloaded before getting the okay.”
“It’s not your fault someone else screwed up,” Tyler muttered. He was probably willing to do just about anything to get me out of his personal space faster. “We’ll be down here finishing set up tomorrow morning around nine. You can come back any time after that.”
“Is that a good time or would later be better?”
“Well, there’s going to be a bunch of high school kids here in the morning helping move tables, so I guess it depends on if you’re up for being around people.”
Damn him. That might have seemed like an off-handed comment to a lot of people, but it proved he hadn’t forgotten about me either. This weekend was bound to kill me, the only question was if it would be a physical or emotional death.
“It’ll be fine, unless I’ll be in the way. This job doesn’t really afford me the luxury of hiding away from the world.” I pulled my hair out of the tieback, letting it flop in front of my face.
