Chapter 7
chapter
seven
NATE
I spin in my chair.
The black-and-white photos hanging on the wall behind my laptop blend together until I drop my feet onto the floor and stop to study the images.
Most of them are from early in my career.
Mom pinned them on the wall here in my old bedroom, much to my protest. She insisted the photos stay up as symbols of how proud she and my father are of me, no matter what stage I’m at in my career.
They love them all equally, but I don’t need reminders of how green I once was.
In fact, many of my earlier photos, with their lack of focus and poor angles, make my skin crawl like I’m allergic to them.
But all that aside, the subjects are, admittedly, captivating. The adventures and achievements. Canyons, rivers, and a few faces of locals sprinkled among them.
Some pictures are ones I’ve sold and had published, but they’re also all reminders of who I’ve been over the last few years.
The rest of this room reflects who I was before that—football trophies, my salutatorian award, my framed high school diploma.
Once Teagan and I move our stuff into this house at the end of the month, this place will become who I am in the future.
Sapphire Creek is threaded into the tapestry of my past. Every nook and cranny in this town holds a piece of who I was, and while some might think it’d be too hard to distance myself from that version of myself and start anew here, I believe the opposite.
If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that, no matter what stage of life you’re in—or where in the world you are—there’s always room to grow, if you make the space for more.
I blink until my dizzied vision clears, and my computer screen comes back into focus.
I reread an email from my editor, who thanks me for my years of impressive work.
I switch out of it with a click and pull up the one congratulating me on my new job in Savannah—a position I secured thanks to an old friend in LA with plenty of connections and several glowing things to say about me.
Here in my old bedroom, my life is beginning yet again, proof that anything is possible.
“You’re still here.” Mom appears in the doorway.
“Just finishing up a few things.” I shut my laptop and rise, stretching my neck from side to side.
I have a crick that’s set up camp like it’s sticking around a while.
It’s worse after sleeping on my old bed last night.
Before that, I spent most of this week in Florida for my final assignment, and the hotel pillows weren’t exactly kind.
Instead of fluffy clouds, they were more like bricks.
I usually bring my own, but I somehow forgot.
I’ve been out of sorts since the reunion last weekend—since the last time I saw Maren.
She’s been back in my life for all of five minutes, and suddenly, I can’t stop myself from wanting to see her again. Being around Maren is too distracting, and I’m losing my grip on why I’m back here to begin with.
“What are you and Dad up to tonight?” I ask over my shoulder as I slip my watch onto my wrist.
“Oh, we have big, exciting plans to pack up the attic and the garage.”
She giggles, but I don’t find it as humorous. “You two shouldn’t be lifting so many heavy boxes. I’ll stay and help tonight.”
“Don’t be silly.” She waves me off. “Go to karaoke night, and have fun with your friends.”
“I’ll have plenty of time for that since this will be the first of many karaoke nights in my future.”
“Never too early to get started.” She flashes me a warm, reassuring smile, but it does little to settle my guilt.
They’ve refused my help to pack every time I’ve offered it.
Yesterday, Mom allowed me to walk three boxes from the living room to the garage, but that’s it.
They insist I’m too busy and tired from my own packing, and while there’s truth to that, I’m never too busy for my parents.
Not after everything they’ve done for me.
“Call me if you need me. I can be back here in less than three minutes.” That’s a wild idea to adapt to. I’m so used to LA traffic and the buzz of the city, but slowing down the pace of my life sounds like a damn dream at this point.
I know Teagan’s already acclimated to the small-town life, going on and on about all the fun she’s had at the park with Nan-Nan and how many cookies she’s had from the pretty purple truck while I’ve been gone.
It leads me to believe she has not been on top of her homework assignments, but I’m confident I can help her catch up.
“I know, honey, and I appreciate it.” Mom nods toward the hallway. “Now, go on before you miss all the fun.”
On my way out, I kiss Teagan’s forehead and make her promise to brush her teeth before bed. We’ve had some difficult nights with it since she lost two teeth last month. She claims brushing her teeth is the reason they fell out, as if it has nothing to do with the laws of nature.
Outside, I pop down the porch steps, and the stiffness in my neck screams when I jerk my head toward Maren’s.
Between our two houses, we have enough history to fill a museum.
I rub the side of my neck and notice her car in the driveway. Does she not go to karaoke nights on Sundays? From what I’ve gathered, it’s a mandatory tradition around Sapphire Creek. Every adult goes. It’s how they start their week off with a bang.
I linger on the door handle of my Jeep longer than necessary, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but all is quiet at Cedar Circle.
And I stew on that disappointment the entire drive to the bar.
The Tipsy Tap buzzes with the early crowd before karaoke night—the calm before the storm, so to speak.
Owen’s already at the bar, where Cole Rivers serves him a beer in a frosted mug. I’d heard he’s been working here since he quit being a lawyer in Charleston. Haven’t seen him in years, and it’ll be as nice to catch up with him as the rest of my friends.
I reach the two as Owen sucks back a sip, and I point to his beer. “Make that two, please. On my tab.” I slide my credit card toward Cole.
“I’m supposed to get you one as a welcome home gesture.” Owen tries to shove my card back into my hand, but I stop him.
“I’m not fully back yet—still have to do the actual moving part—so let me get this one.”
He shrugs and slurps from his mug, then wipes his chin with the back of his hand.
Cole sets a matching cold one in front of me. “Actually, this one’s on me. I hear congratulations are in order—welcome back to Sapphire Creek. Almost.”
“What do I get when I’m officially moved in? A parade?” I joke.
“A free beer for your announcement, and a whole basket of baked goods on the day you move in. I think that’s how it works,” he plays along.
“A parade is only for celebrities who come back and build a community pool or a new library,” Owen adds.
“I see. I’ll need to move some money around from my accounts in the Caymans, but who do I speak to about a new library in my honor?” I hoist my beer up, and we share a laugh.
Karaoke hasn’t started yet. Instead, a live band keeps the crowd entertained. A handful of people flood the makeshift dance floor in front of the stage, and I imagine more will trickle in as the night carries on. The sun has barely set, so there’s plenty of time for the fun to ascend.
Cole is called to the other end of the bar by two older men with matching beards. I don’t immediately recognize them, nor do I study them for long, because a woman entering the Tap demands my attention.
Maren.
The breath rushes from my lungs as I try to keep from falling off my barstool. It’s been ten years, but she still has this inexplicable effect on me.
She’s the only person who’s ever made me question my sanity—which has never been more obvious, given the way I currently feel.
As she and Addie approach the crowded bar, Maren tosses her hair to one side, and the dim lights overhead bounce off the gold hoops decorating her ears.
Her black jacket opens down the front, revealing a gray fitted top underneath. The thin fabric scoops low, and the swells of her breasts emerge with ease.
It’s hard to look the fuck away.
She draws the attention of others too, and I nearly chip a molar from grinding my teeth as jealousy surges through my veins. I have no right to feel this way, and yet, I can’t stop myself, either.
Maren flicks her narrowed gaze my way. “What’re you doing in town again so soon?”
“I was shooting nearby in a small Florida town, so I swung back by here to finalize a few things for the house and make sure Teagan’s enrollment at the elementary school is set up.” I toy with the dew gathering around my mug of beer.
As she waves Cole over for a drink, she side-eyes me with her lips twisted like she’s chewing something sour.
“Can I get a Jack and Coke please?” Her gaze travels over me again. “Make it a double.”
“That kind of night, huh?” Cole teases and places an empty glass onto the bar.
I can’t help but chuckle—and fuck with her a little. “Pace yourself, Maren. You’ll be seeing a lot of me soon.”
“You know…” She rests her elbow on the rustic wooden bar and snaps her fingers, her black nail polish pristine—and deadly.
“I saw plenty of For Sale signs on the other side of town. Maybe you’d be more comfortable there, and your parents can just keep being my neighbors for the rest of eternity. They’re much better company.”
“I’d have to agree. All the earthquake cake you can eat—how could I ever top that?” I fold my arms over my chest, practically giddy that this gets a rise out of her.
Maren grumbles incoherently as Cole slides the dark drink toward her.
“Do you even know how to play Bridge? Because your mom and I are an unbeatable team. We have quite the competition going against the Hendersons across the street, and if your mom quits, I’ll have to suffer under the wrath of their smug smiles every week. ”
My own smug grin falters. “You hang out with my mom?”
Maren shifts. “Sometimes. She makes the best scones around. I think she’s the reason Mrs. Goodwin stopped selling them at Bready or Knot.”
Next to us, Owen and Addie dive into one of their bickering matches, but it gets lost in the murky waters of my brain, along with the ruckus of the rest of the bar.
My mom talks about Maren from time to time, especially lately, but I always assumed they simply run into each other, as all neighbors inevitably do. Plus, this is a small town. There are only so many places to get coffee.
Mom has never told me they’re actual friends, and the idea sends a shot of something warm through my chest.
Once Owen and Addie pause their exchange of insults for a breath, I finish my beer and slide off my stool. I gesture for Maren to take it, capturing her gaze with mine as I say, “There’s enough room here for all of us.”
She narrows her eyes into slits and licks her lips. The combination drives me wild, and it takes extra strength to tear myself away.
Owen and I back into a corner, where he nudges me with his elbow. “Did you hear? Our boy Wake proposed, and she said yes.”
At the bar, Maren flashes Addie a dubious expression, and it reminds me of the one she gave me the first time I dared her to lie on top of my Jeep while I cruised down back roads. She didn’t think I was serious, so I tossed her the keys and climbed on top to show her myself.
Did Addie dare her to do something now? What are they talking about?
“Not that we’re surprised, though, right?” Owen continues, and I barely register another nudge to my rib cage.
I’m too busy tracing Maren’s every move with my gaze as she sets her drink onto the bar and leans her back against it. Her jacket falls open, putting her breasts on display. There might as well be a spotlight aimed right at them.
And when she bites her lip, I nearly swallow my tongue.
Every muscle in my body clenches until I’m on the cusp of pain. It suddenly feels wrong to be all the way over here, so far away from her. Like it goes against the natural order of the universe.
But this isn’t the same universe in which Maren is mine.
“You’re so fucked, aren’t you?”
When Maren smiles, it reaches her eyes. It brightens her demeanor just before she dips her head, and she disappears behind her curtain of hair.
It’s so familiar that my sternum splits open, and the ache that’s been buried deep inside now hovers near the surface. The soreness from tightening my jaw so hard launches me back to reality, where Owen stands beside me with a smug grin plastered on his face.
“You’re fucked,” he says again, but this time, I hear it far more clearly.
I peer down at my empty mug. “It was one beer. I’m fine.”
“I’m not talking about you being wasted.” He nods toward Maren. “I was telling you about Wake’s proposal, and you couldn’t take your eyes off your ex. You’ve got it bad, my friend.”
“I… don’t.” I swallow to wet my dry throat as my eyes find my gorgeous ex-girlfriend once again.
Owen is far from eloquent, but he might be right—I’m so fucked.