A Life Where We Work Out

Chapter 1

Ellie

“Okay Ellie, you got this,” I mutter to myself, rounding the corner into the old, familiar neighborhood.

The pecan trees that line the streets were my favorite as a kid.

I used to wander for hours along the shaded blocks, sunlight filtering through where the leaves didn’t quite overlap.

It felt cozy, and I would daydream that I was in a secret garden, or some forest in a movie where the princess meets her true love for the first time.

Now it feels suffocating, like a tunnel slowly narrowing around me until the very last moment when I realize it’s actually a monster, not a tunnel, and that monster is going to swallow me whole.

That wasn’t so hard, was it?

Stepping out of the rental, I grab my bag from the trunk. When I reach the first step of the stone pathway that leads up to the house, I pause again.

This is ridiculous, Ellie.

It is ridiculous, but that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t convince my feet to move.

Objectively, staying at my best friend’s new house shouldn’t be a big deal.

It’s a lovely house. Beautiful, even. I’ve seen it countless times on FaceTime, and being with Abby feels like home no matter where we are.

The problem isn’t this house. It’s the house across the street that I’m avoiding at all costs–I can’t even bring myself to look at it.

“Are you lost, ma’am?”

A wide smile spreads across my face, and I whirl around to face the source of the familiar voice.

“Jack Robbit,” I say, instantly feeling lighter than I have in months.

“It’s been ten damn years, how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” He returns my smile, stepping forward to pull me into a hug, planting a kiss on the top of my head.

“You only hate it because Abby came up with it,” I say, my voice muffled with my head buried in his chest. With one final squeeze, he releases me from the hug, crossing his arms and looking stern. It only makes me smile harder.

“No, I hate it because it’s stupid,” he counters. “And it undermines my authority.”

“Authority?” I ask, laughing. “What authority?”

“They made me deputy fire chief,” he says with a sheepish smile.

“Jack, that’s amazing!” I squeal. “So why are you here, shouldn’t you be in Dallas?”

“No, I mean here. In Larkspur. Old man Ritter plans on retiring here in the next few years, wants to train me up to take his spot. Although the way he’s training me now, I’m pretty sure he actually just wants a clone.”

My smile falters, the sinking feeling I’ve had for the past month returning in full force. So Jack Robb is back in Larkspur. I’m the only prodigal who hasn’t returned since we all left for college.

“That’s amazing,” I repeat emphatically, schooling my facial features back into place. “I can’t imagine anyone better for the job.”

“Thanks, Ellie Bellie,” he says softly, his eyes full of an understanding that tells me he didn’t miss my reaction. “I’m really glad you came home for this. It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” I say, linking my arm through his. “Now, are you going to walk me to the door like a gentleman, or are we just gonna stand at the curb all day?”

It’s been ten years since we graduated, five since I set foot in Larkspur, Texas. I would have been happy to stay away forever, but I was told in no uncertain terms that I would be the chair of the reunion planning committee, despite my vehement protests.

So here I am, arm in arm with my favorite guy, walking up to the home of my childhood best friend and her husband, Aaron. Before we can even think about knocking on the door it flings open, and a wild mop of auburn curls vibrating with excitement greets us.

“Hi, my sweet ginger angel,” I say as she squeals loudly and jumps up, wrapping her legs around my waist. Thank God Jack is standing directly behind me, otherwise we’d be tumbling down the walkway back to the street.

She smacks a big, wet kiss on my cheek, then hops back down, her arms still tightly wrapped around my neck.

“I can’t believe you’re in Larkspur, I thought you would make me haul my ass to Boston every time I want to see you for the rest of our lives,” she says excitedly. With a glance over my shoulder, she adds, “And you brought Jack Robbit!”

“Don’t call me that,” he says gruffly as we step into the entryway. “And she didn’t bring me, you told me to come over, remember?”

“Of course I did, I figured the more of us there are, the less likely Ellie is to hightail it out of here and never look back, again,” she responds, shooting a pointed look in my direction.

I roll my eyes exasperatedly but don’t say anything.

She’s not wrong– the second I crossed the county line, my brain started screaming at me to run like my life depends on it.

Turning around to close the door, I let myself glance at the soft blue ranch-style home across the street.

A sharp pang in my chest has me closing the door with more force than I intended.

“Who in the hell is slamming my door?” a booming voice calls from the back of the house. Aaron comes around the corner, wiping his hands on the “Kiss The Chef” apron he’s wearing over his bare chest and sweatpants. “Ellie!” he says, all annoyance fading instantly.

“Sorry, Aaron, you know I have violent tendencies,” I say in mock contrition, leaning in for a side-hug to avoid getting whatever it is he’s making on my clothes.

“Well, let’s put them to better use, come help me beat the biscuit dough.”

“You are not putting her to work, honey,” Abby says in a sickly sweet voice laced with a threatening undertone.

“I am going to monopolize her for as long as she’s here.

” Jack lets out an indignant scoff, which makes me laugh as Abby rolls her eyes at him.

“Fine, we can monopolize her time, Jacky boy.” Grabbing my hand, she yanks me down the hall to the living room, Jack shaking his head as he follows behind.

“I would ask if you found the house okay, but you could probably do that drive with your eyes closed,” Abby says, sitting cross-legged in the corner of the emerald green velvet sectional. “Lord knows how much time you spent over here.”

When Jack shoots her a sharp look, her eyes widen, and she stammers out, “Just in the sense that Larkspur is so small and you lived here your whole life and everyone knows where everything is–”

“It’s okay, Abby,” I say, cutting her rambling off. “We don’t have to avoid it. I know exactly what street you live on.”

She gives me a pained, apologetic look. “I’m sorry, if there had been any other house available…but this one was so perfect–”

Plopping down next to her, I lay my head on her shoulder and pat her thigh. “Don’t apologize for buying your dream home, my ginger angel. I’m happy for you.”

I feel her relax in relief, then immediately tense up again as she asks the question I knew would come, but was dreading anyway.

“Do you think he’ll be at the reunion?”

I don’t say anything, looking to Jack and holding my breath as I wait for his answer.

“Yeah, he will be,” Jack says in a quiet voice, like he’s trying to soften the blow. It doesn’t help. “We talked about it yesterday.”

Jack and Abby are both looking at me nervously, and I inhale a deep, shuddering breath, forcing a smile onto my face.

“Guys, it’s fine,” I say in an overly cheery voice. “I can handle being in the same room as Griffin Hart for a few hours.”

Liar.