Lolly and the Straight Boy

Prologue

Bailey

I spin the ceramic Waffle House mug in my hands, seriously considering asking Nat to stuff it in her purse when I finish my coffee. She would never, but I really fucking want one.

I cringe when my forearm lifts off the sticky surface of the table with an audible squelch. Nope, not going to entertain what that might have been.

“Where the hell is Liam?” Nat says, rolling her eyes in faux exasperation. Her espresso eyes and coal-black hair that falls loosely over her shoulders remind me of countless moments like this. The two of us talking shit while waiting for our third musketeer.

“No clue. Probably had to stop and chat with everyone he passed on his way here. You think he pulls his car over when he sees someone he knows or is he strong enough to resist?” I say with a laugh.

The waitress delivers our order with a soft smile then hustles away, her messy bun bouncing behind her.

“Are you packed and ready for move-in day?” Nat says with a grin.

“Yep. I’ve got everything shoved into trash bags and boxes,” I admit.

She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Welcome to Waffle House,” the staff mumbles in unison. Nat and I look up to see Liam walk through the door, phone in hand.

We manage to glower simultaneously, crossing our arms as if rehearsed.

Liam takes a seat in the booth, not once looking up from his phone. His sun-kissed blond locks fall over his cornflower eyes before he does that obnoxious swish that all the cool kids mastered in junior high.

“What crawled up his ass?” Nat says under her breath, motioning toward Liam.

I shrug my shoulders in response. “No clue,” I say. Our normally quick-witted social butterfly of a best friend is still staring at his phone like it holds the answer to the universe. It’s 42, but he wouldn’t understand.

Yeah, I won’t have this shit on my watch. Absolutely not.

I launch a small piece of hashbrowns across the table and it lands beautifully. Right between Liam’s furrowed brows.

The restaurant is loud enough that no one notices. The jukebox plays an old Shania Twain song and the grill is as noisy as the cook.

“What the fuck, Bays?”

Nat explodes into laughter beside me, almost choking on her drink.

I smirk unapologetically. “What the hell is wrong with you, Liam? You look like someone just torched your porn stash.”

“Right?” Nat chimes in. “We know something’s up. Might as well spill,” she says with a teasing smile. She winks at him as she peels off the edge of a waffle and pops it into her mouth.

Liam drags a hand through his hair, slow and exhausted, like that act alone took effort. He stares down at his burger, watching it like it might save him from this conversation if he just waits long enough.

He pauses dramatically, inhaling a deep breath.

“You know you have to tell the truth and nothing but the truth as soon as your ass graces the doors of this establishment,” Nat says. “Your rules, not ours.” She smiles as she brings her cup of orange juice to her lips, watching him with rapt attention.

“Chrissy dumped me,” he admits.

His cheeks redden as he reaches into his pocket, pulls something out and tosses it onto the table with a clink. “She gave me my senior ring back.”

“Oh shit.” Earnest shock laces my voice as I lean back and cross my arms over my chest, hoping he’ll keep going. They’ve been together a little over a year now.

“Liam, oh my god. I’m sorry,” Nat gasps, eyes wide. “You know what? I never liked that bitch. She wouldn’t let me order pineapple on pizza. She wasn’t right for you, boo.”

She grabs Liam’s hand, squeezing it quickly before grabbing the ring from the table.

“Liam, this is actually beautiful,” she says, quieter now.

“I love it. She really fucked up giving this back,” she adds as she slides it onto her thumb.

The metal gleams under the lighting as she examines it.

“Are these your initials?” She looks at him through her lashes, a soft question in her eyes.

“Yeah, I didn’t want a tiger or anything stupid on there, so I had them make a signet with my initials so I could wear it as long as I wanted to,” he replies.

“Can I wear it?” Nat asks with a grin.

Liam huffs a quiet laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Sure, Nat. Of course you can. Have at it.”

Nat squeaks in victory then says, “Honestly? It’s good that this happened now and not halfway into your freshman year. Chrissy can go suck a fuck.”

“I second that,” I agree with a dramatic wave. “You’re an eligible bastard, Liam!”

“It’s bachelor,” he scoffs.

“That’s what I said,” I reply with a wink.