Return To You: A Small Town, Second Chance Romance

12. Ethan

twelve

Igun my bike, leaving Grace in my rearview mirror, a dark shape that’s not even looking at me.

I don’t mean anything to her. Nothing at all. I need to let it go, clear my brain, cleanse my heart.

What was I thinking, again? Oh yeah, that just bringing her to the lake would trigger something. Make her tell me why she dumped me there, yelling things that made no sense. That worked out well. Did I think she was going to apologize?

We were barely older than the kids on the Varsity team I trained this week.

It’s not like no one told me that she was too young. Too young for me. Too young for love.

And I was too young too.

We were both unable to deal with the force of feelings we didn’t understand. Feelings of trust, and friendship, that grew over the years, then, with hormones kicking in, morphed into something so powerful, we couldn’t manage—or even understand—what was happening to us.

And so we failed. We crashed. I fled the scene, instead of trying to understand, mend, correct whatever had possessed her and build upon it.

I dip down Dewey’s Hollow, then up Woodbury Knoll, where we’d… ah fuck, I can’t do that.

There are too many memories, everywhere.

Even at the farm.

There’s one place though that wasn’t there back then.

My brother Justin’s pub.

And that’s where my wheels take me. To the Lazy Salamander, aka Lazy’s, now the heart of Emerald Creek, with its cozy booths, slick bar, tall ceilings, comfort food, and a shitload of local beers on drafts.

I sit my ass on a stool and watch with envy as Justin pours beers, chats up customers, checks his phone, and smiles like only someone in love can smile.

He has his shit together. He built something out of nothing. He created a hub for our hometown, something we needed desperately. In the time that I was gone, he and his best friend, Chris, became pillars of Emerald Creek.

Me? I have nothing to show for my ten years of hiding. Nothing that means anything here.

“You still around, man?” I turn to the deep voice and greet Colton. “Beer’s on me,” he tells Justin as he slides on a stool next to me.

“First was on the house,” Justin answers. “What can I get you?”

“Switchback. Please.” Then Colton turns to me. “What you been up to?”

I smile. “Believe it or not, I coached the Varsity preseason camp.”

“No way. Good for you.” He stays quiet for a couple of beats, watching Justin draft his beer. Doesn’t bring up his young employee, Tracy. Or his sister. “D’you like it?” he finally asks.

I push my empty pint glass toward Justin so he gets me a refill. “Kids were great.” Your sister, not so much. But I can’t tell him that.

“How’s Grace doing?” Justin asks Colton. “Haven’t seen her here in a while.”

Colton shakes his head. “No idea.”

“Wasn’t she giving massages to some kid at camp?” Justin’s not gonna let go, is he?

Colton and he exchange a look. Colton gives him an I dunno shrug.

“Yup,” I drop. “To Tracy. Got injured.”

“I had no idea,” Colton says, seeming genuinely surprised. “Grace tell you?” he asks Justin.

Justin gives me a pointed look. “Nope. Millie.” His smirk drips to his whole body, and he leans back, crosses his arms, clearly enjoying the power he thinks he has over me. “Heard you got Grace a special order every day. Delivered too. How’d that work out for you?”

I look away and finish my beer. Slam it on the counter. “Another.”

Justin glances outside. “Not if you’re riding your bike tonight.”

Colton wiggles his fingers at me. “Keys.” Then, to Justin, “This one’s on me.”

I feel like getting into a good bar fight, the kind that’ll send teeth flying and bodies slamming into solid furniture.

The kind that will knock the lights out of me for long enough that when I come to, I won’t even remember why the hell I wanted that.

“Come on, man.”

“What the hell, I’m too old for this shit.” I hand him the keys, and we get lost in silence as more and more people fill the bar and some sort of karaoke starts.

“Too old, huh?” Colton says, picking up like we were just talking minutes ago. I’m on beer three or four. Colton switched to soft drinks a while back. I might move onto bourbon if the anger in my gut doesn’t fucking go away.

My answer is slurred. “You happy with your life?”

“For the most part. My own boss. Decent money.”

“What about the rest?”

He shrugs. “Get lucky when I need to.”

I grunt—I can see the appeal. “I’ll drink to that.”

Colton stands, gets behind the bar, and fills two tall glasses with water. Pushes one in front of me and downs the other, standing. Taking his place back on the stool, he says, “You know, women, they want you to want them.”

I eye him sideways.

“And they’re not much into drunks.” He downs his glass of water. ”Come on, let’s get you home.” He stands, and I follow him.

“I’m not a drunk,” I say as I slump into his passenger seat.

He pulls out. “You won’t be. Not under my watch. Or under Justin’s. Or under anyone else”s who gives a shit.”

We ride in silence, his headlights illuminating the trees bordering the dark road that leads to King Knoll’s Farm.

“Coffees was a good start,” he says.

I clench my jaw. He’s just trying to help. But help what? What am I trying to accomplish here?

“It’s only a start, though. Won’t get you very far,” he continues.

“We are talking about your sister, right?”

“Yeah,” he says softly, turning onto the long driveway to the farm.

“That don’t bother you?”

He turns his head briefly to me. “I love her. I want her to be happy. Lemme be straight with you. I think you’re the only one who can give her that.”

The only one? “Give her what?”

“The love she needs. You’ve always been it for her.”

That’s bullshit. That girl is gone. Look, he’s her brother. What does he know? Take me—I know nothing about Haley. Colton’s just trying to be nice. He was always a nice kid. I’m surprised he’s into relationship advice. I wouldn’t have pegged him for one of those. I need to let him down easy. “Naah. It was never that way.”

“You know, this is getting a little old.” He slows to a stop in front of the farm. “This driving you home drunk because you don’t have the guts to do what you need to do with my sister.”

I turn my head slowly and stare at him. “You guys let her marry some guy nobody heard about and was barely old enough to shave, and I wasn’t good enough for her? You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

In my drunken anger I do see the puzzlement and some degree of pain on his face. So I add, “Pardon my French.”

“You were gone four years when she got married, man. You expect to roll into town and she’ll be in your bed? I’ll say it again. It’s gonna take a little more work.”

I stay in my seat, looking into nothingness. “Besides... I’m leaving soon. Be far away.”

He looks at me with disappointment mixed with anger. “Then you better stay the fuck away from her while you’re here.

“She’s been through enough shit in her life. She’s in a good place now. Don’t mess it up.” He looks out the window, and even in my drunkenness I can tell he’s not done talking. “Look, man. I love you. Love you like a brother. Never forget what you did for me. But Grace? She needs a break, and she’s found it here. She’s in a good place now. Don’t fuck it up. If you can’t give her what she needs, stay away.”

Half of the stuff he says, I have no idea what he’s talking about. The other half, I get him loud and clear.

Saturday, I wake up with a splitting headache and go for a long run in the hills. I come back to a message for me on the kitchen counter. Mom and Dad are out and about, and I am to call Thalia and Lucas back for a small favor they need. Their number is scribbled on the note.

“Thanks for the call back,” Lucas says. “We have a small job, was hoping you could jump in for us and do it first thing today, if you’re available. It’s for someone who knows someone in town—you know how it goes. Anyhoo, they have a door that keeps getting stuck. A closet door in the bedroom. It’s an old house, and the woman wants someone who knows what they’re doing. Won’t break anything, respects antiques, yadda yadda. You get the picture. I’d go, but I have this big job starting and—”

“I gotcha, man. Lemme shower and I’m on my way.”

”Come and grab my truck, so you can use my tools.”

“Cool. What’s the address?”