12. Eight
Eight
Fallon
T he sun had already disappeared behind the mountains when I locked up The Hat Shop, my parents’… yep, hat shop. Proper nouns were a whole thing with this small town’s establishments.
My shift ran longer than expected, with the summer crowds wandering to explore the novelty range of products. I begrudgingly took shifts to help my cousin transition into running the shop after my folks had moved to Sedona a few months ago.
It was not my favorite, but I needed the money until I secured a full-time social work position. It dragged my mood into the shitter. Maybe I’d skip the bonfire tonight, curl up with a book, and sweat to death in my living room.
“Shit,” I murmured, the key sticking in the deadbolt again. “No, you asshole. You will lock.”
The ancient lock ate keys regularly. I’d be resigned to spending my evening waiting for the locksmith if it snapped, and Walter Lewis was a sloth in human form.
“Stupid fucking cunt of a lock. Sticky, unreliable bitch,” I grunted, twisting as I pulled tight. If I could line the door with the frame… “You grumpy piece of shit, mother fucking bastard dickhole!”
A clearing throat caught my attention, my eyes roaming to the sparkling smile on the face of the man watching me. “Impressive.”
The door suddenly clicked into place, but I stumbled backward, letting go of the latch when Beau startled me.
“Whoa, careful,” he warned, catching me by the elbow before my butt connected with the pavement.
Fire bloomed over my cheeks. My eyes briefly lifted to his and darted away.
“Hey, Fallon.” Beau grinned. “Your mouth is something else.”
“Ha.” I tucked my hair behind my ears and ducked my head. “Yeah, well. That’s nothing. Do you think my mouth is bad? You should hear my thoughts.”
Beau’s eyebrows shot up, his grin somehow stretching wider. “Anytime. Bet you could make me blush.”
I rolled my eyes, ignoring the flutter in my belly as his hand gripped my elbow. With a gentle squeeze, he released me and stepped back, that bright smile still shining beneath the shop lights.
“Guess I see what you and Jake have in common. A couple of salty, foul-mouthed—”
I snorted rather unflatteringly and slammed a hand over my nose like that would hide it.
Beau continued to stare with an enormous grin. “I didn’t even hear it.”
I sounded like I belonged on a farm. The other side of town heard it.
Streetlights had sparked on at sunset, the posts wrapped with string lights. With the soft chirp of crickets in the field behind the shops and the dizzy chatter of people strolling in the warm evening air, Beau’s presence seemed forbidden. The ambiance was entirely too romantic.
So when he cleared his throat again and said, “Heading home? Can I walk you to your car?” I should have said no.
But I didn’t.
“Sure. These dangerous streets make me nervous.”
Beau tucked his hands into his pockets and let me take the lead.
“I heard your folks are in Arizona now,” he said as we leisurely headed toward the public lot a few blocks down the main corridor.“I heard you love the hats too much to leave. ”
I snickered and shoved his arm, ignoring the feel of his hard muscles against my hand. “I had a group of college-age assholes come in and ask me to measure their heads today. After I brought out my tape measurer, they corrected my mistake of believing the request was for the heads on their necks.”
Beau dropped his chin and laughed. “God, fucking idiots.”
I gave him a sidelong glance, biting my lip and looking away when his eyes met mine. “I can recall you and a few others doing something similar in high school.”
Laughing harder, he said, “Yeah, fucking idiots. ” He pointed at himself. “Not exempt. You doing okay being the only Campbell in town these days?”
I sighed and considered that. “I suppose my cousin is an Evans, but honestly? Other than one less obligatory family meal a week, not much is different.”
I loved my folks, but they’d been surface-level parents at best. Busy with their business, busy with their interests, and eventually busy with their retirement. Their move to Arizona didn’t impact my life much. My older sister lived in Seattle, and while our relationship had improved in adulthood, semi-regular texts and shared Christmases were about all we managed without bickering about stupid or petty shit. As if I’d forgiven her for shaving my eyebrows in high school.
But I didn’t need another Campbell in town when I had Jake. He was my family. Beau had a brood of quirky and overly involved Daltons to contend with. He was lucky .
We waited on the corner for the stoplight to change and the right of way to cross. Traffic was light as the day dwindled, and jaywalking would be fine, but neither of us stepped off the curb.
Beau had good energy—he always had. He was fun and playful, laid-back and easy, and I was drawn to him immediately.
Kate and I became friends during our freshman year of high school, and with that friendship came the added benefit of being around her cute and flirty older brother.
“So gross and cliché,” she grumbled at the time. “He’s a horndog, Fallon. My mom has resorted to making him pay for his own Kleenex at this point because we go through it at an alarming rate.”
I lingered at the Dalton’s house, hoping to catch his eye more often than I cared to admit. But Beau… he liked girls. He liked people .
My hand wrapped around my throat, rubbing lightly with the memory of a time when he’d liked me.
“So. How’s it going with Palmer?”
The light changed, and Beau tugged on my shirt sleeve, holding me back as he looked both ways and released me on the all-clear.
“Fine,” he grumbled, scrubbing his hands over his face. “My lunch disappeared from the fridge every day this week and somehow even disappeared when I left it in my car. My water bottle, too, which happened to coincide with the day the water station ran dry.”
“Oh, no.” I sighed, shaking my head. “On-site hazing is the worst.”
He looked up, so hopeful. “Yeah? They get Jake, too?”
No, but I wouldn’t tell him that. Instead, I said, “You probably think Jake is leading the charge, but—”
“I don’t,” he interrupted quickly. We stopped in front of my car. He shifted his weight from one foot to another. “Jake was the only guy to offer me his water. I was certain I’d die from dehydration otherwise. Felt like a fucking raisin.”
I smiled to myself. My blustering and grouchy guy had a heart of gold. Sure, sometimes it was like mining and sifting through dirt and mud to get the tiniest flake of it, but that made it invaluable.
“He’s a good one, Beau,” I said, leaning against the hood of my car and taking him in. “Despite his outward grouchiness.”
Beau shrugged, kicking at the tire. “I mean, I asked him if he was only offering because he pissed in it or something. He said of course not. I took a sip, and he slapped my back so hard I choked. Then he told me he’d spit in it.”
Yep, that also sounded like my cantankerous and surly guy.
We laughed, and Beau shook his head.
A tailpipe backfired, an old Chevy peeling out of the gravel lot with a squeal of laughter pouring from the open windows. Chad Tomlin, Jenny’s younger brother, home from college on summer break. Rip-roaring through the town, dumbass that he was.
“I realize this sounds inconceivable,” I said, my eyes watching the truck bounce over the parking curb and launch onto the street recklessly. “But Jake is trying to be civil.”
“As in the war?” Beau scratched his jaw.
I bit my lip, smiling at his profile as he scanned the lot. He was indisputably handsome and easy on the eyes, but it was Beau’s good humor and charm that pulled me in all those years ago—months ago—tonight.
“You’re being dramatic.”
Beau scoffed. “Please, I’m not being dramatic. Your boyfriend would gleefully disembowel me if given the chance. I’m trying to be his friend, even with the risk of personal harm, and I’m suffering daily for it. This isn’t petty or catty shit, Fal. This is life or death.”
“Mhm,” I hummed.
Beau squinted and feathered a hand through his hair. Absent of its golden highlights in the parking lot’s shadows, those thick waves of light brown locks fell into a perfect mess of comeliness.
“It’s hard, Fallon. Being this hated,” he huffed, falling against the car. He pointed at his face. “This so much to hate?”
I shook my head. “No. Nothing to hate there.”
Our eyes stayed locked as we stared wordlessly at one another. A subtle shift and his arm would brush mine. But Beau wouldn’t do it. Despite his ball-busting at The Diner, his intentions weren’t to pursue me. They were to rile up Jake.
It was a couple of weeks of fun. My role in Beau’s life was never meant to be different, and judging by his history, he wasn’t interested in much more, anyway.
I tore my gaze away, pushing off the car and giving some distance.
“You’ve been humbled, huh?”
“Not enjoying this feeling,” he said with a sigh, picking at the hem of his shirt. “I do not recommend being the bane of another’s existence. Zero out of ten, easily.”
“Then why bother? Do you need to work for Palmer while here? If you’re bored, at least half a dozen girls from your graduating class are still hanging around and single. You’re a good time, Beau. Enjoy your visit home.”
He snickered, staring down at his hands and getting squirmy. “Good Time Beau,” he mumbled. “Life is a party.”
His head dropped back to stare at the star-dotted sky above. “Life is a party, Fallon, and I’m the goddamn pi?ata.”
The pinch of his brows gave me pause. He blew out a long breath, something heavy lingering in the tension of his shoulders and the strain of his eyes.
The same tortured look that he hid behind a distracting smile at Christmas when he confessed to his struggles. He shared his insecurities, and I shared mine.
When I thought we connected over more than our bodies.
Blink, and that strain on his face would disappear, a joke or a grin diverting attention to what he wanted you to see.
My heart hurt that he’d quietly struggled in recent years. Not letting others see his pain for fear they’d overlook everything that made him great.
“You’re the pi?ata?” I smiled softly. “Like full of the sweet stuff?”
Beau’s exhale stuttered into a beat of laughter.
“Everybody scrambling to get a piece?”
His hands scrubbed over his face as his shoulders relaxed. “I missed you, Fal.”
I licked my lips, glancing away and crossing my arms. “You could have kept in touch.”
“No,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “I couldn’t.” His eyes softened as he stepped closer. He reached for my arm, stalled, and dropped mid-air. “I’m glad we’re friends.”
Beau waved and turned on his heels, already gone before I could answer.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Me, too.”