“And if anyone bothers you,” Alejandra adds with a wicked grin, “Ruth will arrest them. Right, Sheriff?”
Ruth snorts. “I’m off-duty on Friday night. But I’ll still throw them out if they’re being a dick.”
“I’ll swing by once the restaurant closes.” Aurora nods. “It’ll be fun, Faye. I promise. Just dancing and drinks and good music. No weirdos. Well, no weird weirdos. Only the normal level of Blue Crescent eccentrics.”
“Please?” Lila joins in. “It won’t be the same without you.”
“Why? No offense, but you barely know me,” I point out. Eight months of book club doesn’t make us lifelong friends.
“We know enough,” Lila says firmly. “We know you love romance novels, but pretend you’re reading them ironically. You make the best comments during discussions. Everyone who has a kid in first grade loves you.” I’d call twenty-one out of twenty-two on that. “You moved here from somewhere you don’t want to talk about, and that’s fine. We don’t need your life story to want to hang out with you.”
I glance between them, these women who have become my friends despite my efforts to keep everyone at arm’s length. They’re looking at me with hopeful expressions, like me going actually matters to them.
And what the hell. Why not?
What’s the worst that could happen? I could use the distraction. The noise of a crowded bar to keep the silence at bay and drown out the thoughts that have been infesting my brain since this afternoon.
Blue-violet eyes flash in my mind. That angular jaw dusted with scruff.
My stomach drops.
“Is your brother going?” I blurt the question at Becky, casual but not casual enough.
Her eyebrows shoot up. A smirk plays at the corner of her mouth. “Ryder? At the Moonshine on a Friday night?” She shakes her head. “Nah. He doesn’t go out much. Friday nights, he’s either working late or at home with Rhys. Why?” Her eyes gleam with curiosity and… speculation. She’s reading into my question, drawing conclusions I don’t want her to draw. “If your misunderstanding is resolved,” she continues, “no need to avoid him.”
“I’m not avoiding him.” I keep my voice level, unbothered. “I’m just asking.”
“Uh-huh.” Becky is still smirking. “Does that mean you’re in?”
If Ryder Evans won’t be there, then I can go.
“I’m in,” I say.
The women cheer. Becky hugs me. January pats my shoulder. Alejandra promises to do my hair if I want, and Aurora insists I have to try the jalapeño poppers the Moonshine serves because they’re “literally life-changing.”
I laugh, caught up in their enthusiasm despite myself. Maybe this is what I’ve been missing. Not just the book club, but the casual invitations, the affection, the sense of belonging to a community, and not for only one night a week.
We say our final goodnights and disperse for real this time. I climb into my car and sit for a moment before starting the engine, watching through the windshield as the other women drive away, their taillights disappearing down Main Street one by one.
Maybe I can stop watching my back and make new friends. Pretend my life is as uncomplicated as everyone assumes. I bet the most widespread speculation is that I’m fleeing a bad breakup, which in a way is true. But I’m glad no one around here reads TechCrunch or Business Insider.
If I want a fresh start, I need to stop hiding in my cave. And an evening out is the ideal first step. Friday night at the Moonshine. Dancing, drinks, a live band… And no Ryder Evans.
Perfect.
5
RYDER
I push back from Mom’s dinner table, the chair legs scraping against the old farmhouse floor.
“Thanks for taking Rhys tonight, Mom.” I drop my napkin, pick up my and Rhys’s plates, and stand to stash them in the dishwasher.
“Of course, sweetheart.” She’s already at the sink, running water over pots and pans. “You know I love having my grandson.”
Rebecca pauses on her way over to drop off her plate and holds up a hand. “Why is Mom keeping Rhys tonight?”
I look at him sprawled on his stomach on the living room rug with crayons scattered around him, working on an elaborate drawing that’ll end up on Mom’s fridge alongside two dozen others.
