She nods. “Yeah, she said her Poppy and your Winnie are good friends. Sorry, I just—” she motions toward the bathroom stall, then slips in. “It’s funny though. I don’t think he ever really looked at Riley the way he was just looking at you.”
My mind trips over a new truth. One he failed to ever mention.
I dip out of the bathroom while Reagan is mid-sentence in herstall, and I almost run into the man himself leaning up against the opposite wall, arms over his chest, waiting. My stomach churns and I’m not sure if it’s the bass from the music, or the echo from my heart beating in my chest.
“You let Winnie name your sheep after your ex-fiancée’s daughter?” I say it and I don’t know if it’s an accusation, a statement, or a question.
“Winnie could have named it shit-head, and I would have let her do it.”
“I'm friends with Riley, and you have never said anything.”
“Hannah, you can be friends with anyone you like. Who am I to tell you who you can’t be friends with?”
I bite in the inside of my cheek. “How did you really get Winnie a spot at the Y?”
He sighs. “I called Riley and asked her to make a spot for her.”
“And that’s it? Your ex-fiancée just happily obliged?”
“She put me through Hell. It was the least she could do.”
“Hell? Tanner, what are you talking about?”
He blows out a gust of air. “When she got pregnant, she let me believe the baby was mine until she was six months along. Turns out she had been cheating on me with a coworker at the shop. It was his baby and she knew all along. I’m the one who picked out the name Poppy.”
21
Tanner and I stand there in silent regard of each other, a chess match facing a draw. Reagan comes back out of the bathroom, and must read the situation better this time, because she simply tips her head and disappears back down the hall and into the crowd. The only thing louder than the music is my heart. I don’t even know what words to say or what move to make.
“I will tell you everything you want to know,” he says. “But not here. Please.”
I let out a shaky breath with no real response. Do I want to hear it? Is it even my story to hear?
“There you two are.” Lauren pops into the hallway. “We’ve been looking for you. They played Santana! Your guys’ song from…” She trails off as she looks between us. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah.” Tanner nods, doing a terrible job at pretending.
“Yup,” I lie.
Lauren narrows her gaze between us. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Tanner and I say together.
“There you are.” Now Rhett joins. “What’s going on?”
“Just taking a breather,” Lauren tells him. I can feel her staring, but my eyes are still on Tanner’s. Another damn standoff.
“If we are trying to leave, I would be happy to go,” Rhett says, and the three of us agree. “Laur, how about you come with me. Han, you go with Tanner.”
“Sure.” I shrug.
Tanner raises his eyebrows. “Really?”
“Sure, why not. Nothing is going on.”
We all begin to walk out, and Rhett nudges Lauren. “What the hell is going on with them?”
The air outside is humid and thick as the crickets and frogs sing their song. The moonlight glints off what I can only imagine is broken bottle fragments in the gravel parking lot and my ears ring as the pounding music echoes into the night. Tanner and I don’t speak as I follow him to his truck and Lauren and Rhett go to theirs.
