Chapter 2
November
“Eat an extra bear claw for me?” Rhyett’s voice came through the Bluetooth headphones he’d sent me last Christmas.
“Obviously,” I said, smirking as I stepped over a rain-filled gutter onto the sidewalk. Mistyvale existed in a perpetual state of hanging gray fog, especially through the winters. The harbor was full of bobbing vessels, their flags splotches of muted colors through the gloom. We held our annual winter carnival inside the new town mall to avoid this frigid mist. Even within those echoing walls and tile floors, we knew how to throw a party, and the predominant tradition was glorified fair food. I’d be indulging in every ridiculous small-town tradition tonight, alongside my friends. “How’s Brex?”
“Fucking gorgeous,” Rhyett answered without hesitating, making me grin like an idiot. “Motherhood looks so damn good on her, man.”
If Apollo had a favorite mortal, it would have been Rhyett. My best childhood friend was obnoxiously optimistic, and embodied sunshine, so it was fitting he’d settled in the state that shared the moniker. Even more so that he’d found his wife not a month after settling his feet on those white sand beaches. Just over a year and a half later, they had the cutest little cherub. Speaking of which…
“How’s my niece? She’s getting way too big.” Their daughter, Quinn, was just about nine months old, which was incomprehensible. The older we got, the faster time slipped through my fingers.
“Dude, you’re telling me. She’s so chatty now—no idea what the fuck she’s saying unless it’s one of the signs Brex taught her, but she sure says it—and is officially a roll risk anywhere we set her. The other day, I walked to the bedroom for all of forty damn seconds to find my phone, and she’d somehow wedged herself under the couch.” Chuckling, I jumped in front of a couple of gals, huddled in their winter jackets, and yanked the coffee shop door open, motioning for them to go inside. Nodding their thanks, they skirted past me before shuddering with relief at the warmth. “Did I just hear the bell to Grizzly Grind?”
“Are you a bat or something?” I demanded, following in the women’s wakes.
“I miss home, man. This time of year, especially. Make sure Kara made the iced pumpkin cookies. Those are the town favorites.” Rhyett started the Grizzly Grind coffee shop a few years before he left for Florida and had made sure we knew them for their fresh daily pastries as much as the java the girls were pouring. The hiss of milk steaming, and chatter of patrons greeted me as I dropped my hood back, leering around the line to the case, where the hand painted pumpkin-shaped cookies had dwindled to two.
“Got a few left, man, but the shelf is nearly empty.”
“Good—that’s good. That’s what we like to hear.”
“Place is hopping, McGraths are in the corner, Kara’s behind the bar, only got…two open tables.” I noted each detail as I peered around the bustling space, soaking up the chipper chatter and sugary scent of fresh sweets.
“Excellent. Now get off the phone, take out those ear buds and actually say ‘hi’ to your neighbors.”
“Piss off,” I groused, smiling to myself as I shook my head. “Not everybody feels the need to socialize every moment of their waking hours.”
Rhyett’s laugh warmed my chest. “Would do you some good now and then.”
“That’s what I have you for.”
“Haven’t been back since last summer. Worried you’re getting lonely up there.”
“That’s yet to occur, but I’ll keep you apprised of any changes.”
“Yeah, yeah. Alright, say ‘hi’ to the girls for me.”
“Will do, man. Say ‘hi’ to your girls for me.”
The smile in his voice carved my own onto my cheeks. “Will do. Love you.”
“You too.”
The subtle click of the line dying punctuated the end of our conversation, and I begrudgingly pulled one ear bud out, tucking it into its case before returning the thing to my pocket. The eclectic shop was full of the subtle notes of Christmas music, never mind that we still had Thanksgiving to look forward to.
“Broderick!” My gaze snapped to the side where a familiar freckled face beamed back at me. Noel emerged with a sleeve of new to-go cups, waving over her armful of merchandise.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I barked back, smirking at her bright smile. Rhyett had set Noel up with a spot here at Grizzly Grind last spring, while his manager was out on maternity leave and Noel was rebuilding her life. But she’d walked away when that was over, pouring her inspirational level of enthusiasm into starting a nonprofit for survivors of domestic violence, like her. The woman had a smile to melt icebergs if theres ever been one.
“Brinn’s out with a sick toddler. Least I could do was lend a hand this time of year.”
Grinning, I shook my head. “Do you ever sleep?”
“Not if I can help it.” The line shuffled forward, the last group stepping to Kara’s side of the counter to order, leaving me to lean forward and kiss Noel’s cheek, her chaotic red curls making my nose itch. “What can I get you, handsome?”
“A red eye would be great,” I said, leaning back and stripping the leather gloves from my hands and stuffing them in my coat pocket. Her skeptical brows winged up, and I shrugged, supplying, “I’ve got two more lectures and papers to grade before the festival tonight.”
“Mmmkay,” she said, punching the order into the POS. “You still coming to dinner?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I assured her as I handed over my credit card. My best friend—Rhyett’s younger brother, Jameson—had wasted no time winning over Noel, and the two of them played host to most of our gatherings. “Captain get off the water last night?”
“Yeah, he’s probably still huddled up by the fire while knocking out this week’s accounting.”
“Good deal.”
The bell rang behind me, and she jerked her head toward the end of the bar. Taking my cue, I scooted my way down to the drink drop-off as two giggling female forms scooted forward, dropping their hoods to reveal a couple of my sophomores. Big city professors likely had the luxury of avoiding their students far more than I ever could. They eyed me at the end of the counter before their giggles escalated, and I shifted nervously, their gazes on me while they exchanged muted whispers.
“Hi, Professor Allen,” the first said, nerves betraying her smile and putting a squeak in her voice. I tugged at my collar, giving a stiff wave back as the second echoed the greeting, smiling coyly as she tucked black hair behind her ear. Oh boy.
“Tara, Ciara,” I nodded curtly, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck as heat rushed to my face before scowling at Noel, her knowing grin taking way too much pleasure in my discomfort. I snatched my coffee cup from her freckled hand, glaring as she snickered, and abandoned my plan for a cozy coffee in, instead backing toward the front door.
“Sarah coming tonight?” Noel asked, louder than necessary in a not-so-subtle sign of solidarity.
“Yeah, I’ll pick her up after work.”
“See you then!”
Noel, at least, had the decency to extend an olive branch, even if she didn’t care for my plus one. The Rhodes siblings, however, all turned their noses up whenever Sarah was mentioned. My on again, off again girlfriend of the last decade had pretty much burned her bridge with them on breakup number three. Noel, mercifully, had missed that fiasco. With one last wave, I headed out into the cold.
With the tantalizingpromise of laughter to look forward to, I walked the three blocks home from the university in a rush after work, opening the front door with all the tact of a linebacker. Finding the living room empty, when my girlfriend should have been yanking those sexy little boots into place, I hollered, “Sarah, babe, we’re gonna be late!”
Kicking off my shoes by the front mat, I shirked my jacket off in the next motion and set it over the back of the couch. The uncharacteristic warmth of the evening lingered on my grateful skin, even as I rounded the corner of our outdated little townhouse for the fridge. Dull seventies yellow and sinus-infection green had evidently been all the rage in Mistyvale during the nineties.
Noel was an amazing cook, naturally insisting on covering all the bases, except for wine, which she was wise enough to defer to me. I was opting for a steadfast red for the roast beef dinner and a chilled dessert wine to complement her cherry croissants. My feet halted halfway to the fridge when a sense of unease settled in my stomach.
“Sarah?” I called again, motions slowing to take in the furniture that was usually just-so, now sitting askew on the rug, and her sweater carelessly tossed on the floor. The first time Sarah and I dated, she’d been slightly chaotic, but when we got back together for another go of things, she’d gotten better about matching my love of all things orderly. It wasn’t like her to leave things haphazardly strewn about. “Babe?” It was the muffled sound upstairs that sent my pulse running. Like a cry or yelp. Mind whirring, I bolted up the staircase, images strobing against my eyes, varying from an ax murderer…to what my gut already knew to be the reality I’d find behind our bedroom door.
Bursting through, not sure what I was hoping to see beyond the threshold, I came face-to-face with a naked Sarah. Her eyes flew wide as some skinny fuck plowed into her from behind, his hand wrapped in her blonde strands of mussed hair. Bile rose in my throat as I turned, cursing as she shrieked and the man barked, “What the fuck!?”
It was going to be a long goddamn night.
Noel’s fair,freckled fingers hesitated as she went to set a croissant on my dinner plate later that night, her evaluative brown eyes surveying my frantic pacing, like a beast trapped in a cage. She bobbed her head before setting two croissants on her and Jameson’s plates and placing the entire platter piled with them on mine like a peace offering. Quiet and scowling, Jameson’s only sign of life was the rapid bounce of his leg, hand bracing his jaw, those signature Rhodes’ blue-gray eyes glaring at the table between us as I finished my explanation.
“I can’t fucking believe she’d do this. Fuck. Yes, I can. I knew—knew something was off these last weeks—but didn’t want to rock the damn boat by asking her about it.”
His gruff sigh was somewhere in the neighborhood of a bear chuffing. The man was my ride-or-die, but I monopolized our allotted number of vocalized thoughts, leaving Jameson with the scraps. “Sorry, man. Never cared for her.” Dark brown hair shifted under his hand as he yanked fingers through his loose curls in frustration.
“I know. That’s the shittiest part. You guys were right. You. Rhyett. Noel,” I said, nodding her direction as she grimaced, those brown irises heavy with what I could only describe as sympathy.
“Rhyett’s always right,” Jameson begrudgingly admitted. How the same parents had produced the sun beam and the terse bastard across from me, I would never understand. But I fucking loved him all the more for it. “He’s like El in that way.”
El. Elora. “Oh God, please don’t tell El,” I muttered, rubbing my temples as a dull ache pressed against the back of my eyes. Speaking of annoyingly upbeat siblings, their little sister was terrifying to even the best of us, her accomplishments enough to make a neurosurgeon grimace and hug the sharp corners of their framed degree just for reassurance. She’d no doubt have a damn field day with this, having loathed Sarah from the first go around. Just one more confirmation: she’d dodged a bullet with me all those years ago. Obviously, I still hadn’t figured out the whole keeping a woman part of the relationship description.
“You couldn’t have known,” Noel offered softly, snapping me back into the moment as she came back over with the pot of freshly brewed coffee in hand. None of us were rage drinkers, opting instead for figuring out a game plan together. She topped off both our mugs with a steaming dark roast before turning back for their kitchen counter, only for Jameson to snake an arm around her waist. His other hand liberated the coffee pot, setting it on a marble platter she’d had ready to receive the dinner spread prior to my raging arrival fucking up our entire plan. Falling into his lap with a little yelp, Noel quickly nuzzled into place, my eyes going foggy as he buried a kiss against the deep red curls that spilled down her shoulders, like he could get to her neck through the beautiful mess of a mane.
That.
I’d always wanted that, and never had a clue what it felt like or how on God’s green earth to get there. Honestly, I’d be wise to write off the idea of dating altogether at this point. Had I just become a confirmed bachelor?
“Who’s that obnoxious girl in Friends? The one that won’t leave Chandler alone?” Jameson asked nonchalantly, though it sounded as if his words had traveled down a very long tube to reach me. His girl burst out laughing, shaking her head as she snapped her hands over her mouth.
“Yes! Janice. Sarah is your Janice.”
“For all our sake, please let this one go,” James instructed dryly, though I’d known him long enough to spot the tension in his jaw, the sympathy in his eyes. The man knew this level of betrayal far too keenly.
“Oh, we’re done,” I growled, rubbing my hand over my jawline, tracing the five o’clock shadow that felt a bit more like ten o’clock than it should’ve. “In my damned room, no less.”
“I’m so sorry,” Noel said, the waver in her voice making me feel guilty for yammering on about my first world drama. She certainly took the cake in the competition of shitty exes of the three of us. I shook my head, not wanting her pity, and certainly not deserving her sympathy. It might’ve been morally reprehensible, but Noel’s toxic ex brought her here to us, and her need for protection gave me a new friend I never would’ve admitted I needed. Mostly, she lit James up in a way nobody ever had, and that alone would have earned my stamp of approval. Forget the fact that she was a saint with a heart too damn big for her own good. “But I am. You don’t deserve this. Not any of it.”
Quiet for a long moment, I nodded. “Thanks, Noel.”
“Eat up, champ. Nothing says wallowing like warm cherry croissants, a scoop of vanilla ice cream, fresh coffee, and a good movie.”
“What about the festival?” I asked, although even my ears heard how hollow the words were. The last thing I needed was a crowd of locals asking me where Sarah was.
“We went last year,” she said with a nonchalant shrug before kissing Jameson’s scruffy cheek. “Came. Saw. Conquered. Ate bear claws until they came back up. No need to revisit that particular experience.”
A soft smile accompanied the warmth she planted in my chest, and with a sigh, I stood with her. Jameson followed behind us, his unspoken frustration like a storm cloud in our wake.
“That conference thing. When is that?” he asked softly.
I shrugged, more irritated than anything else. “Might not go this year. Kinda… feels pointless, if I’m honest.”
“Bullshit,” he scoffed. “Don’t let this bitch get in your head, man. Go learn. Isn’t this their big decennial thing—that grant you’ve been babbling about all damn year?”
Sighing, I admitted, “Yeah, the New Leaders’ Grant.”
“Then, you’re fucking going. That bitch took your time, but she doesn’t get your fucking future.”
Reluctantly, I straightened my spine, meeting that intense glower I’d grown up interpreting for everyone around us. When I gave him a nod, Jameson returned it before leading the way to the couch. I just had to keep my head on straight long enough to get there.