Charmer (Havenbrook #1)

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

WILLOW

It had been a couple days since my world had capsized. Since the ex-boyfriend from hell had popped back into my life. And I’d done a damn good job of pretending it hadn’t happened.

I’d replicated the life of a hermit, diligently avoiding most public spaces—and thus avoiding the gossip mill. I had at least seven voice mails from Rory to tend to, but I just didn’t have it in me yet, wanting instead to keep my head buried in the sand a bit longer.

The prediction I’d made to my sister a few days before rang through my head, how the Thomas boys would peel away from town before the people of Havenbrook could blink. I didn’t know one way or another if they had. I’d asked Mac and Avery not to mention anything about the twins, and I’d studiously kept my head down and my nose to my work.

The thought of Finn still being in Havenbrook sent my stomach into a tailspin. More concerning, though, was the fact that the thought of him leaving without a word, going back on his promise of seeing me again, sent a whole flurry of other emotions swirling in my belly.

And since there wasn’t enough wine in the world to explore that particular issue, I avoided examining it further. Pulled the proverbial blanket over my head and ignored. I went to work and then straight home, usually forcing Mac to run and grab supper and bring it back to the house so I could stay hidden away.

I just had to ride out the few days until Finn and his brother bailed again—and I was already two days into it. I could hold out through the weekend. By Monday, the Thomas boys would once again be just a distant memory.

I squinted at the painting I’d been working on for the better part of the day. Definitely needed more red. I’d just dipped my paintbrush in a deep, blood shade when the phone rang.

Without setting the brush down, I reached for the phone with my other hand. “Hello?”

“Please tell me you’re doing something other than sitting in front of your easel, wastin’ the day away,” Mac said.

I froze, paintbrush suspended in mid-air. My sister was creepy sometimes, but I wasn’t going to tell her she was absolutely right. Though I wouldn’t consider this “wasting the day away.”

“’Course not.” A lie didn’t count through the phone, right? “What’d you need?”

“Avery was thinkin’ about Chinese for supper. That sound all right to you?”

“I could go for Chinese.” What I could go for was not leaving the house, and having my sister and Avery deliver it to me certainly fit that bill.

“All right. We’re just finishin’ up a few things, so it’ll be a bit.”

“’Kay. See you later.”

I didn’t know how long “a bit” was, but I planned to use it to my advantage and brought the paintbrush back to the canvas. Some mindless TV droned on in the background, but I didn’t pay it much attention. Instead, I focused on the canvas and threw all my frustration into it. The painting—a mix of colors and patterns with no rhyme or reason—was raw and wild and a great big mess. Exactly like me.

I’d been using paint as a means to express myself for as long as I could remember. Even after Finn had left, I’d managed not to allow my favorite pastime to be dampened by his memory. Which meant me having flashbacks now didn’t make any sense, but yet there I was.

Every instance over the past few days when I’d picked up my paintbrush, snippets from my teenage years, from my time with Finn, would rush to the forefront of my mind. The first time I’d shown him one of my paintings, the look of awe and pride on his face. How he’d never made my hobby seem like a waste of time like my daddy had. When he used to sit behind me and play with my hair as I painted, his arms a solid weight around me, making me feel safe and secure, like I’d never felt before.

It had all been lies, of course.

I didn’t know how long had passed before Mac and Avery found me there, both their eyes narrowed.

“You liar,” Mac accused as she tossed her purse on the side chair, setting down boxes from Wok This Way on the coffee table in front of the couch. “You said you weren’t still doin’ this.”

“And you believed me?”

“’Course not. I hope you know you’re in the same exact place we left you. Hours ago.”

I raised an eyebrow and spared my sister a glance. “At least I’m not moping on the couch. Besides, I’m not sure what you thought I was gonna do. I’m not exactly in hostess mode.” I gestured toward my ensemble of frayed sleep shorts and a faded, paint-splattered tank top I’d had since high school.

“This is getting ridiculous, Will,” Mac said.

“What is?” I could avoid with the best of them.

Avery snorted, plopping on the couch as she grabbed her takeout container from the table. “How long do you think you can stay holed up in here? Avoidance will only get you so far.”

Avoidance seemed to be doing me just fine, thank you.

Mac went to the kitchen, bringing back silverware for us before taking a seat in one of the side chairs. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your little game of hide-away, because it ends tonight.”

I rolled my eyes as I put down my paintbrush and went to wash my hands. If there was one thing that could pull me away, it was mediocre Chinese food. “How do you figure?”

“As soon as you finish that Kung Pao Chicken your lovely, beautiful, devoted sister brought for you, we’re heading out to Ropers,” Mac said.

Before I could express my displeasure at the thought of going out, Avery held up a hand. “Don’t even try to argue. Mac’s right. You’ve had a shit week, and no one would blame you for inhaling seven cartons of ice cream.”

How dare she. It’d only been three.

“But it’s time to get out,” Mac said. “You deserve to have some fun. Have some drinks, dance a little. Enjoy yourself. And since Ropers is a half-hour away, it lessens the chances we’ll run into anyone from town, which keeps you out of the gossip mill.”

That was the problem with having a sister for a best friend—she’d been there our whole lives and knew me almost better than I knew myself. The fact was I hadn’t just been avoiding Finn in town, but also the busybodies of Havenbrook, every one of them having had a front row seat to my heartbreak ten years prior. I’d lived through one round of the pitying stares, the whispers people thought I couldn’t hear. I had no interest in doing it again.

And I couldn’t deny I could use a night out with my best friends, especially after the week I’d had. There was no doubt in my mind I’d have a good time—I always did when the three of us hit the town.

“Fine,” I said as I sat next to Avery and dug into my container. “But drinks are on you both.”

Avery glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, her mouth turned up at the corners. “Don’t you worry about drinks. No work tomorrow and me as D.D. means we’re getting your ass drunk. And once you change out of all this—” she gestured to my ensemble with a lip curl “—we’ll be getting free drinks all night long.”

My nightly glass of wine hadn’t done shit to stop my mind from traveling back to places it was better off not going. Maybe getting good and buzzed was exactly what I needed.

An hour later, we walked into Ropers, the closest bar Havenbrook had—at least, for the time being. Mac and I had spent many a night there in our early twenties, rebelling from our daddy in the tamest way possible.

It was already packed, which was to be expected on a Saturday night, too many bodies crowding the bar and the tall tables set up around the space. A live band played current favorites at the back of the room, the dance floor separating us from the rest of the tables.

As much as I loved to dance, it would take a few drinks to get my inhibitions low enough to venture out there. But as Avery thrust a Long Island Iced Tea into my hands, I figured I’d be out there within the hour.

“Drink up while I scope the place,” she said, her gaze already roving over the available men in the bar. Her eyes lit up, and she tilted her chin toward my left. “Couple hotties have all eyes on you.”

I raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of my drink, trying not to cringe at the heavy alcohol. It’d been too damn long since I’d had anything but wine—maybe getting a good buzz going wouldn’t take long at all. “Or they have eyes on you .”

My best friend was gorgeous on a normal day, but when she put effort into it like she had that evening? She had to beat off the guys with a stick.

“I’m not the one with my legs on display,” she said.

I glanced down at the short shorts I wore—shorter than my standard, but when Avery had thrust them at me, lending them to me from her wardrobe, I’d figured what the hell. I’d paired it with a thin, gauzy tank that dipped down low in the front and back, and wedge sandals that made my average-length legs look a mile long.

“No, but your boobs are saying hello to anyone with two working eyeballs.” I tipped my chin toward her ample cleavage on display.

She just shrugged. “Work with what you’ve got—that’s my motto. And we all know my boobs are my best asset.” She gave a little shake of her shoulders to punctuate her point, pulling laughs from Mac and me. “Yours, my lovely friend, is your legs. Mac’s is her ass, which is why I put her in those tight as hell jeans. Honestly, you both act like I’m an amateur.”

“After this long, neither of us doubts your powers,” Mac said, taking a swig from her bottle of beer.

“Well, good. You shouldn’t. Remember the last time we went out? We had those guys eating out of the palms of our hands.” Avery winked. “Stick with me, girls, and I’ll make sure the free drinks keep coming.”

“This wasn’t free.” I held up my glass, the contents nearly gone.

“It was more important to get you well on the way to Drunkville than it was to wait for a freebie.” Avery bumped her hip against mine. “Speaking of, how’re your lips, girl? Tingly yet?”

Mac smiled around the mouth of her bottle, both of them knowing my first tell of being tipsy.

I held my fingers close together, squinting my eyes as said tingly lips lifted up at the corners. “Li’l bit.”

Avery threw her head back in laughter as Mac grinned her approval. It’d been a while since I had let loose like this, setting out for an evening with the sole purpose of getting good and drunk. It’d been a while since I’d needed to.

The main focus of my frustration was usually relegated to my daddy or Rory, and I’d had years of practice dealing with those two. This week had been the usual multiplied by seven thousand, and it’d left me floundering.

While Mac launched into a rant about the lack of available men in Havenbrook and her dismal dating life, I glanced around the bar, my gaze skating over the swarm of bodies stacked upon each other, the space having filled up even more since we’d arrived. As I sucked the last bit of my drink through the straw, my eyes skittered over a trio standing by the front door, then snapped back, my body stiffening as I took in who’d just walked in.