Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Unknown
Come to the bar.
I stare at my phone for a while, trying to figure out what is happening. After my number got leaked almost a year ago, I got a new one and have given it to very few people, much less anyone who would invite me to a bar on a random Wednesday.
Who is this?
The reply comes back quickly.
Colton. Come to the bar tonight.
The tiniest spark of strange warmth flares in my chest, and despite having no interest in going and sitting at a bar again, I find myself fighting back a small smile.
The last time I came to the bar, I enjoyed myself, even if I mostly sat alone and chatted with Colton.
I’ve never had someone who wanted to spend time or talk to me for no reason other than shooting the shit.
I got into the music business young, Midnight Ash hitting it big when I was barely eighteen, so almost all of my formative years were spent with people kissing my ass, friendliness always coming with some kind of ulterior motive or trying to get something from me.
But to everyone in this town, I’m just some persnickety new resident, so it would seem Colton simply wanted to chat and get to know me genuinely.
Still, accepting his offer feels far too strange and out of character for me, so I decline.
No thanks.
His response comes back quickly and is confusing.
lol
Confusing, that is, until he sends his next text:
Your little bird will be there.
Wren.
Wren, who hasn’t put a decoration on my lawn in days, a torture I’m realizing I may have actually started to enjoy.
Wren, who, despite going to bed early one night, started staying up late the very next day.
Wren, whom I wanted to kiss so fucking badly, my body ached with restraint. I’ve come to realize that everyone tells Wren what they want from her and what they need from her, but I don’t think anyone ever asks her what she wants or needs. I’m determined to be the first to get that out of her.
I look at the blank notebook before me, random words scribbled in the margins as if they’re going to spark some creativity and pull me out of my rut, but nothing seems to be working. Despite being in Holly Ridge for almost a month, I still haven’t been able to write a single lyric.
My gaze shifts back to my phone and Colt’s text. Maybe I just need to experience some normalcy. Maybe a normal night out in a small-town bar will spark something. After all, the best songs are about normal, relatable human experiences.
The next thing I know, I’m in my car, headed to the bar.
It’s about trying new things to get inspired, though. My quick decision had nothing to do with the last text I received. Of course not.
“You know, I didn’t think it would work,” Colton says, after I sit down in the same spot I sat in last time.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie.
He shakes his head, thoroughly entertained by my denial. “You weren’t going to come before I told you Wren would be here.”
“I decided I needed to get out of the house. I was just kidding when I said no.” He looks at me with a disbelieving look, and I shrug as if it doesn’t matter to me.
But I didn’t come here for Wren. I came here because after declining his offer, I realized I had nothing else to look forward to for the night other than staring at yet another blank piece of paper. I enjoyed myself last time I came, so maybe if I continued, the inspiration would spark.
Definitely not Wren.
Unfortunately, the second I walked in, I regretted agreeing to it. I thought it would be a low-key night since it was a goddamn Tuesday, but I should have known that nothing in this town is low-key.
Instead, seemingly every adult in this town is here tonight, every table is full, and the volume is louder than it was last time.
Christmas music is playing over the speakers, which means at some point, “All Lit Up” is probably going to play and make me want to leave.
There seems to be a fundraiser happening, with raffle baskets along the back wall, along with a high-top table with two stools beside it, one where Hallie sits, the other where Wren is, her pretty red bow having some kind of sparkles on it today that are gleaming in the low light of the bar.
Not that I’m watching.
When I turn back, Colton is watching me with a self-satisfied grin and lets out a small laugh.
Ten or so minutes later, after a good amount of small talk that surprisingly doesn’t feel tedious, Colton slides two drinks over time, one bright red and one a dark brown soda.
“Mind taking this to them?” he asks, tipping his chin. Without having to check, I know he means his sister and Wren.
“What the fuck do you think I am? Your employee?”
“You’re not doing anything better.” I glare at him, prepared to tell him to go fuck himself, before he lets out a loud laugh and shakes his head. “You’d be doing me a favor, man. Please. It’s for my sister.”
I glare at him.
“Did you hear your sister and her friend broke into my house the other day?”
He doesn’t miss a beat, nodding. “She didn’t tell me, but that sounds like something Hallie would do.”
I blink at him, and the fact that he doesn’t look shocked at all, nor does he ask any questions.
“This town is fucked, you know that?” I say with a shake of my head. Still, I stand, grabbing the drink and watching the smile on his lips spread wider with satisfaction.
“Seems you’ll fit in just fine, then.”
I turn toward where Hallie and Wren are, lifting a hand and flipping off Colton as I move toward the small table.
As I approach, two other women move over to where Wren is, and they start chatting.
Slowing my steps so I don’t interrupt at an inconvenient time, I catch snippets of their conversation.
Kittens, apparently. The woman talking to Wren either has kittens or has found some and is looking for someone to care for them.
Inevitably, it seems, the best person for that is Wren.
The fuck it is.
I speed up my steps, and Hallie’s gaze catches on me directly after she’s given Wren a don’t you dare kind of look.
It seems she’s of the same mind I am, suddenly concerned the sweet woman will say yes in her effort to make everyone happy.
I can’t see Wren’s face, but I can picture the deer-in-the-headlights look there.
Then Hallie’s face morphs, a triumphant look taking over her face as I close the gap between us.
“Here,” I say low, handing the nearly forgotten glasses to Hallie, who accepts them almost giddily, but I can’t focus on that, not when Wren’s voice speaks up.
“I guess I could—”
I don’t know what comes over me.
I’m not sure what I’m thinking, except that I need to stop her from accepting another task to add to her endless list of things to do, and I need to stop her now.
My hand lifts, covering her mouth and pulling her entire body back into my chest. Her body goes stiff beneath mine, and her head turns back to look at me.
That look in her eye shifts from anxious to alarmed to annoyed in the blink of an eye, but I ignore it, too, nodding at the woman in front of me who is staring at me with shock.
“Unfortunately, Wren is incredibly busy this month, and as much as she would love to help you with this issue, she can’t.”
I’m sure that Wren is going to be pissed, but really, she should be grateful that I stopped her from saying yes to waking up every two hours to bottle-feed fucking kittens. I don’t know the woman that well, but even I know she can’t be the most qualified person in town to take that on.
I’m tired of Wren taking on everything for everyone. She won’t stick up for herself, and she surely won’t ask for what she needs, much less wants, so I’m taking it upon myself to do just that.
“Oh,” the woman says, looking me over. Then she shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “No worries, we’ll call up the animal hospital and see if they can take them in.” Then she acts as if nothing happened at all, turning away to return to her group.
I turn to Hallie after I drop my hand from Wren’s mouth with indignation.
“You mean to tell me that she didn’t even ask the vet to take the kittens before resorting to her?” I direct my question to Wren’s friend, knowing Wren will give some fucked-up excuse.
Hallie beams, as if the situation thoroughly entertains her. “Why ask someone who might tell you to handle it yourself for a few days or cost money when you can just ask the town sweetheart who doesn’t know how to say no?”
Wren’s face snaps from me to her friend, with irritation clearly written across her face.
“I know how to say no, I’m just helpful. I can’t help it that people think I’m a safe person to ask for help,” Wren insists.
“Do you know anything about kittens?”
A moment passes, and she bites her lip.
I want to fucking kiss that lip.
It’s all I’ve been able to think about since the moment I pinned her to my living room wall and then her front door.
I came to this town to be alone, to find my inspiration, and to hide away from the constant pressure and distractions of my life as well as the holiday season itself.
Instead, I’ve spent more time with other people in the last three weeks than I have in a year.
I can’t stop thinking about my annoying neighbor, and I couldn’t escape Christmas in Holly Ridge if I tried.
Wren doesn’t respond, but Hallie does.
“Well, you know as well as I do, Wren takes on any project someone asks of her.”
“That’s ending,” I say, turning to Wren, whose jaw is tight with frustration.
“I’m tired of watching you work yourself to the bone for other people who probably don’t appreciate your kindness.
” I turn to Hallie, who seems to be the only one in this town who sees how Wren is overdoing it.
“The other day she fell off a ladder hanging up my neighbor’s lights. ”
Hallie’s eyes go wide, and Wren’s jaw goes tight.
“Why was she hanging up Jed Campbell’s lights? He’s fully capable.”