There she was. Whole and beautiful, and looking right at me.
“Holy shit!” Gator whooped, having recovered from the shock of seeing her a helluva’ lot faster than I had. Without missing a beat, he was off his sled and bounding up the porch steps two at a time. “Hattie Lynn Jackson!” he boomed. “Where the fuck have you been, girl?”
She opened her mouth, but before she could utter a word my best friend had her up in his arms, spinning her round and round, making the sweet tea in her hand fling everywhere.
“Drake Montgomery!” she shrieked, her voice full of laughter. “Put me down right this minute, you big oaf!”
Laughing his head off, Gator dropped her back onto her feet, holding onto her arms to make sure she was steady on her feet. “Damn it’s good to see you, Mad Hatter.”
My lips twitched. She was about to give him hell for calling her that and he damn well knew it.
“You know I hate when you call me that, Drake,” she grumbled, nose wrinkling adorably as she shot him a glare and shook out her hands that were covered in tea.
“Well yeah,” he smirked.
She was able to hold that fake glare for about two seconds before she started laughing.
That musical sound that used to make my chest feel too tight now felt like another slash across my heart.
How the fuck had I let her go?
“Can’t call me Drake anymore,” Gator declared, pointing at the patch on his leather cut with obvious pride.
Hattie leaned in closer to examine his patch, her eyes softening as she took it in. “Well, I’ll be. You went and joined the Kings just like your daddy.”
To my complete shock, Gator actually blushed. When we were kids, he’d always sworn up and down that he was getting the hell out of Odin the second he turned eighteen. He was going to see the world, make his fortune, and never look back.
Instead he was wearing the same patch his father had worn, living the same life in the same town.
It was funny how things worked out.
Finally climbing off my bike, I forced my legs to carry me up onto the porch. Each step felt like I was walking through quicksand, but I couldn’t stop myself from moving closer to her.
“Long time no see, Songbird.” The nickname rolled off my tongue like no time had passed at all.
Hattie flinched, and I immediately regretted opening my mouth.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice neutral as she bent to pick up her now-empty mason jar.
“We came to help Pete with the fence,” I said, shoving my hands into my front pockets, fighting the urge to reach out and pull her against my chest like I used to do every time she was near. “That Coastal-Bridge company tore it up when they were clearing their side of the property line.”
Gator clapped me on the shoulder, before looking pointedly at Hattie. “Don’t leave town without saying goodbye this time, Hattie Lynn,” he said with a wink. Then he took off around the side of the house towards the barn, leaving us alone on the porch.
Hattie turned back to me, and I watched her eyes rake over my appearance. I’d filled out since high school. The lanky boy she knew was long gone, and in his place was six feet of solid muscle earned from years of hitting the gym because I was restless.
Her cheeks turned pink as she looked at me, that familiar electricity crackling between us. The same energy that had always been too big to hide, too powerful to ignore.
“So...” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I, uh... I saw the headlines on TV. About you and the football player.”
Good riddance, I thought. She could do so much better than that douche canoe.
She could do better with me. After all these years, after everything I’d done to push her away, I still wanted her. I’d never stopped wanting her.
She looked away, her cheeks flushing deeper. “Yeah, well. That’s over.”
I should have left it alone, should have kept my mouth shut and just appreciated that she was talking to me at all.
But I’d never been good at keeping my thoughts to myself when it came to her.
