Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
FIONA
It only takes us about an hour to pack our belongings. I’m sitting in B’s truck staring at the little rancher while Seb loads items into the back and B does a final sweep of the property.
Seb opens the door and leans into the cab, his citrusy scent flooding my senses and calming my aching heart. “Ready to go, beautiful?”
I nod, wringing my hands together.
B exits the front door and locks it. He trudges carefully down the icy steps, opens the passenger door, and hops inside. He opens the glove box and tosses the old brass key into it with a clang.
“Everything is going to change,” I murmur glumly as Seb starts the engine.
B slides an arm around my shoulders and squeezes me into his side. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “But maybe for the better.”
“Maybe,” I say half-heartedly.
We don’t have much trouble navigating the roads in B’s truck, and before long, the mountain is far behind us. Most of the snow has melted down here except for some white patches that blur together as we drive past the open fields and old barns.
Washington is an enchanting place on its best days, but the months following December until spring are incessantly wet and gray, and after leaving our cozy cabin bubble, everything just feels extra dreary.
Despite my earlier protests, I don’t say anything when Seb takes us to Lakeside instead of back to Vancouver.
The truth is, I miss my best friends like crazy, so staying with them doesn’t seem like the worst idea.
Plus, I haven’t been back to the little college town much since I graduated three years ago.
After what happened with Brantley, it was just too painful to visit.
Rain drops chase each other down the windshield running like tears across the glass. I already miss the snow—it was sparkly and white and far less depressing.
We slow when we reach Main Street, the truck sloshing through murky puddles as we cruise by the coffee shop, the margarita bar, and the little general store. Lakeside Cinema is a lighthouse in the misty gloom, the bright red and yellow marquee illuminating the street.
Seb turns down a side road that leads to a small parking lot behind the theater.
The back door is propped open, and Trey is hauling boxes in from a delivery van, an overhang protecting him and the boxes from the weather.
He’s wearing gray slacks and a wrinkled blue button-up shirt that’s rolled up to his elbows.
His navy tie is thrown over one shoulder, and his golden-blond hair is a tousled, sweaty mess.
He stops when he sees B’s truck, and sets down the box, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
Despite the rain, I practically crawl over B, throw open the truck door, and run for Trey.
A huge smile lights his face when he sees me, and he catches me when I throw myself into his arms. He smells like warm apples and cinnamon, and my eyes water as I press my face into his shirt, hugging him tighter.
“Flowers, what a surprise.” He rocks us back and forth, squeezing me so hard I feel my bones creak. “It’s been too long. Charlie and I miss you. Link does too, but he won’t admit it.”
I make a sound between a sob and a laugh, and he releases me gently and pushes me to arm’s length.
“Whoa, hey,” He lifts my chin so that I’m forced to stare into his warm brown eyes. “What’s going on? Why’re you crying?”
I give him a tearful smile. “I’m just really happy to be here.” I frown. “Didn’t Link tell you we were coming?”
Trey shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Charlie and I have been avoiding him after he woke us both up early and, well, TMI, but he was letting out some aggression, and then he brought his grumpy ass here and has been in the office ever since.”
“That might be my fault,” Seb says behind me as the guys dart out of the downpour. “We’re in a situation, and Lincoln offered to help, but he wasn’t exactly happy about it.”
Trey’s gaze flickers behind me and he nods at Seb, then, his eyes darken. “What the fuck is he doing here?” Trey growls, his hands clutching my shoulders protectively. Sudden tension thickens the air. Trey Walker doesn’t often shed his sunny demeanor.
“It’s okay, Trey,” I say softly. “B and I are good now.”
Trey eyes me doubtfully and then gives Brantley a hard look. I glance back at B. He’s standing slightly behind Seb with a remorseful look on his face.
“Yeah, okay,” Trey says. “Let’s go inside.” Trey is nothing if not forgiving; Lincoln is a different story.
The theater hasn’t changed much in the last three years.
Warm popcorn-scented air rushes against my face as we enter, and I can practically taste the buttery salt with each inhale.
We walk through the backroom and into the lobby.
It’s spacious with gaudy blue, red, and gold carpet, and tacky burnt-orange tiles, but it looks like a classic cinema from the nineties, and it feels like home.
I smile at a kid shoveling popcorn into a cardboard bucket as we pass the mirrored concession stand, and he smiles back warmly. Patrons trickle in from the box office toward the auditoriums, so I assume the movies are starting shortly.
Trey nods at a girl tearing tickets as we head upstairs, and she bats her eyelashes at him.
I snicker. “I bet Charlie hates the attention you guys still get from the college girls in this town.”
Trey barks a laugh as we reach the top of the stairs. “It’s actually Link who’s the jealous one. You can bet that Angela wouldn’t be looking at me like that if he were here to see it.”
It’s relatively dark, but I can make out the old-school metal projector towers as we move past them.
They’re outfitted with giant reels already threaded with glossy black Mylar film.
I was always nervous to run them when I worked here because I was sure I would accidentally break one, so Charlie or the guys normally ran all the technical stuff.
When we get to the office door, Trey knocks.
“What?” Lincoln’s voice is muffled and irritable.
Trey opens the door, and we step inside.
Link is slouched in his rolling chair, his chin propped on one hand, staring at his laptop screen.
A small desk lamp gives the space a warm glow.
The walls are adorned with framed movie posters: Romeo + Juliet, The Princess Bride, and The Empire Strikes Back.
“When were you going to tell me that Flowers and her band of merry men were coming to stay with us?” Trey asks, giving him a pointed look.
Link’s gaze softens when it falls on me, and I swear the corner of his mouth ticks up.
“Sorry, I guess it slipped my mind this morning.” He stiffens when he notices B, glaring at him with cold, murderous gray eyes.
I’d get chills if I didn’t know him so well.
The silence is heavy as they size each other up.
Link finally blinks and looks over at Trey.
“I’ll fill you and Charlie in shortly, but they’re staying with us in the theater suite for a while.
Things got dicey with the step-asshole, and they need to lay low.
” Link gives Seb and Brantley an appraising look.
“Though we only have one bed up there.” He nods between me and the guys.
“Not to be an asshole, but is this really a thing or can I book Brantley into a hotel?”
“C’mon, man, we were friends—”
“Yes, before you broke her fucking heart.” Lincoln stands abruptly, and B flinches. Seb steps forward protectively. “Did you need me to beat your ass to remind you? Again?”
“Again?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
His eyes never leave B. “Three years ago. Right after you guys broke up. I cornered him and asked if he was going to make it right because I knew for a fucking fact that he was in lo—”
I reach for Lincoln’s trembling hand, interrupting him. His dark brows knit in confusion “It’s really a thing, Lincoln. If you hit him, I’ll hit you harder.”
Seb nods. “She will. I might too.”
Link rolls his eyes. “Fine.”
Trey places his hands on Link’s shoulders and whispers something in his ear. Lincoln nods reluctantly, his eyes on us, but a small smile graces his lips when Trey kisses the side of his head and pulls back. I’m always struck by how fucking cute they are together.
“I’ll show you to the room,” Trey says, and we back out of the office.
“Flowers?” Link calls as I turn to leave. He approaches me and gives me a quick, stiff hug. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
“Lincoln Evans,” I say with mock shock as I pull back, my hand resting on my chest. “Careful, or I might think you really care.”
He looks at me deadpan, and I wink at him before I follow the guys out of the room.
“They still hate me,” B says, flopping onto the bed dramatically.
The bedroom suite is large with a king-size bed, two nightstands, and a closet.
The walls are dark gray, but it’s decorated with old movie posters and thick red curtains to match the cinema theme.
Trey said they added the room about a year ago to use when he and Link had to screen late movies or stay after hours for events.
Sebastian retreats to the bathroom to shower, and I sit next to Brantley, my hand running along the soft gray duvet.
“Can you blame them?” I ask. “To say you destroyed me is an understatement.” B looks over at me guiltily, but I continue because it’s probably time he really heard it.
“I was inconsolable for weeks—if not months—honestly, I don’t really remember.
And Charlie, Link, and Trey had a front-row seat to the carnage. ”
“You’re right. I don’t blame them for hating me, I guess. They can’t hate me more than I already hate myself. I just miss them, and their resentment just reminds me of what I did to you.”
I run a hand through my hair and tilt my head. “I was so angry. I didn’t even realize how hard or fast I’d fallen until you shut me out, and by then, it was too late.”