Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
HADLEY
I’ve done my best to avoid the people I went to high school with.
Small towns have a way of sucking you in, if you’re not careful. A blight on your soul. I managed to avoid that particular disease by removing just about everything that tied me to my old life with surgical precision. I became a new person when I started university.
Coming face to face with Brooks, the boy I used to love, is not something I prepared myself for.
I will admit, the years have been good to him. Infuriatingly good. Where he used to be smooth-faced, he now allows his stubble to grow in. He used to let his hair grow down around his ears, but now he crops it closer to his head. Not as short as Luce’s, but short enough that he looks different. And beneath the rolled up sleeves of his Henley, I can tell he’s put on some muscle. He very much has that whole rugged mountain man thing going on.
I hate it.
Okay, that’s a lie. I hate it because I don’t hate it. He is still the embodiment of my type, and my brain is short-circuiting from his attractiveness. I haven’t seen him since we were eighteen, and I thought he looked good back then, but twenty-six-year-old Brooks is what dreams are made of.
My dreams, specifically.
Self-consciously, I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Because Brooks is studying me. I basically just did the same to him, but I didn’t realize how unnerving it is. Reconciling who I am now with who I used to be shouldn’t feel this vulnerable, but it does. Has time been good to me, too?
Why does it matter?
Amidst my churning thoughts, Brooks finishes sizing me up and then leans an elbow on the bar, getting closer. When he does, I catch a whiff of his cologne. Shit, he smells good. He has certainly come a long way from the Axe he used to abuse when I first met him at fourteen.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Brooks says, startling me from my memories. “The last time I saw her, Sam said you were still living in Brazil.”
I clear my throat as I cross my arms, trying to cover the embarrassing splotch of beer on my sweater. “I mean, I was. I’m not at the moment. Well, obviously, because I’m here and—” I pause, taking a deep breath. “My boss bought the resort up the mountain. We’re here for the grand opening next month.”
A slight smile rests on his lips. Clearly, Brooks finds my rambling amusing. I, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to fade from existence right about now. Me and spontaneity don’t mix, and this little reunion? Not expected at all .
I thought I would have to go back to Pineridge to be smacked in the face with my past. I didn’t think it would find me here in Sugar Peak.
“Well, welcome home,” he says, still smiling.
Damn it, that smile is just as disarming as it was before .
I nod, my cheeks heating. “Thanks. How about you? What brought you to…” I trail off as I eye the scuzzy bar around me. “Dirty Dick’s?”
I can’t help the way my nose wrinkles slightly, and this causes his smile to stretch into a smirk. This is definitely the type of place he used to sneak into with his friends while I stayed at home, too scared to get caught for being under nineteen.
Teenage Brooks was a bit of a rebel. I was decidedly not.
“Wanted to get out of Pineridge, but I still needed to be close to home. My great aunt Margaret owns this place, and she had an opening a few years ago. I took it.”
There it is. Brooks and I had a lot of things in common back then. A lot of differences, too. But the things that had always set us apart were our desires in relation to being anchored to Pineridge. More specially, my desire to be anywhere but our hometown, and his reasons for sticking close.
Before the silence can fully settle over us, I dive into another question. “How is your mom? Your sisters?”
One of my favourite things about dating Brooks was feeling like part of his family. Sam and I are children of divorce, and our parents always seemed disinterested in being parents, so we never got the big, happy family experience. Spending time with the Dawsons made me feel like I wasn’t missing out.
“Mom’s good,” he says. “Andrea and Isabella are both at school down in Vancouver. Marcy’s in her last year of high school, and Ronnie’s just starting.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Ronnie’s in high school ?” I shake my head. “She was just heading to grade one…”
She was—eight years ago. The chasm between us grows. Hearing about these people I used to be so close to—these girls I considered sisters of my own—feels so strange. Strange because I don’t know them, and they don’t know me, and it’s my own fault.
It wasn’t just Brooks I left behind when I made the choice to move to Brazil.
I feel like I could reach out and take a bite of the awkwardness that slides between us, it’s so palpable. I watch Brooks swallow. Stuff down words that have had almost a decade to fester.
Coming here was a mistake. I grab my scarf from the neighbouring stool and drape it around my neck. Next, I shrug on my coat and shove my toque over my head. Brooks is silent, watching me.
Watching me do what I do best—run.
“Well, anyways…” I slide off my stool. “I should go. Big day tomorrow. It was good seeing you.”
And hopefully I’ll never have to again .
Even as I think it, a pang of sadness hits me. Because leaving him the first time was hard, but at least there was a whole continent between us. Now he’ll only be a mountainside away, and here I am, hellbent on staying away from him.
I snap a quick picture of my near empty glass to send to Sam as proof. I pretend not to notice Brooks’s gaze on me.
When I eventually have to look up, I struggle to meet his eyes. Long-buried shame coats my insides, familiar and raw. I’m not brave enough to confront it, though, so I stuff it down, down, down.
“You sure you don’t want another drink?” he asks.
You sure you don't want to stay?
I shake my head. “No, thank you. One was more than enough for me.”
No, thank you. I'm too much of a chicken for that .
I quickly pull out a couple bills from my wallet and slide them across the bar toward Brooks.
“I’m really glad I ran into you, Hads,” he says, and the words, combined with the way he’s looking at me, make something twist low in my stomach. “What are the chances we’d both end up in the same town again?”
“I mean, Canada’s population isn’t that big, so statistically…” I shake my head. I just know my cheeks are flaming red enough to rival the colour of my hair. “Have a good night, Brooks.”
He tips his chin, grinning at me. I forgot he has a dimple in his right cheek, but damn if it doesn’t make him look even more handsome.
“Night, Hadley. Drive safe.”
I practically run out of Dirty Dick’s, and when I hit that icy pavement covered in a layer of snow, I barely catch myself on my car door before I land on my ass. I should probably think about ordering a better pair of boots, seeing as I’ll be here for at least another month.
Once I’m in the safety of the car, I turn on the ignition and cross my fingers it heats quickly. Then I pull out my phone and text Sam the picture of my drink.
Here. Now I'm never going out again.
Sister Sam
Proud of you! But wait, why?
I cover my face with my hands. I dread telling my sister about Brooks, but she’s the only one I can talk to about this. Sure, I have a few friends I made back in Brazil, but none of them know Brooks like Sam does.
None of them would be able to understand the sheer magnitude of the embarrassment I feel right now.
Brooks works at the bar I went to.
Sister Sam
SHUT UP
Ok, don't shut up!!! I need DETAILS, woman!
I spilled a drink on myself and I'm not totally convinced he didn't see it happen.
And then we had the most awkward conversation in the history of conversations.
Sister Sam
Hadley! I'm sure it wasn't that bad!
It was bad. 0/10, do not recommend seeing your ex again after eight years of no contact.
Sister Sam
Maybe this is what you need.
To almost die of embarrassment?
Sister Sam
No! Maybe the universe is telling you something. Something about you and Brooks. ;)
Oops, sorry. I don't have signal anymore. You're breaking up.
Sister Sam
HADLEY
I set my phone in the cupholder and start the drive back to the resort. It buzzes a few times with more texts from my sister, probably a call or two, but eventually it dies down. I breathe a sigh of relief.
Despite what Sam may think, seeing Brooks again is not a sign . The universe has far better things to do than play matchmaker between me and my high school ex boyfriend.
Besides, it’s been eight years—Brooks might not be single. Hell, he might even be married.
Oh, God. What if he has a wife?
And so what if he does? We broke up a long time ago. I wasn’t ever planning to see him again. He could get married if he wanted to. That totally doesn’t bug me.
I clench my jaw and curse my sister for planting this silly idea in my head. What happened tonight was a coincidence. Nothing more.
A sign? Absolutely not.