35. Veronica
35
Veronica
“ I still don’t get how you got Miles to agree to Karaoke night.” Blair laughs, her voice rising above the version of Sabrina Carpenter’s “Espresso” being attempted by the Sampson sisters, two of the regulars at the Timberline Tavern’s Tuesday Sing-Out Karaoke Extravaganza.
While Evergreen Grove may be small, the Timberline Tavern is anything but boring. The bar keeps things lively by offering a variety of themed nights to keep the crowd entertained, from karaoke nights (like tonight) to The Timberline Trivia Showdown, Bingo, and even themed dance parties. Personally, I’m a sucker for the ‘80s dance nights—they always bring the best vibes. I mean, who doesn’t love dressing up in neon?
Maybe our track record isn’t flawless—after all, the last time we were all here was just before my wedding, which ended with Miles telling Pete off for fat-shaming me. But perhaps that’s exactly why we need to come back.
While a lot of places in town are tainted with the memories I shared with Pete—some good, some bad—my only course of action is to move on and keep ignoring the gossip and stares. Thankfully, after having been home for a few weeks now, most of the chatter has died down, and those brave enough to say anything to my face have already done so.
“Apparently, he owes me,” I answer Blair, leaning against the bar while we wait for the drinks we ordered for our table. Across the room, Ford and Miles sit, clearly uncomfortable. They mostly get along, but Ford has never been the type to feel at ease around Miles. The way he’s sitting now, tense, with a forced smile, is a perfect reminder that while some things have changed, there are still certain things you can always count on.
“You say that, but I’m pretty sure after all these years, Miles owes me plenty of favors, yet I’ve never gotten him to agree to karaoke night. Hell, I thought it was a miracle the night I got him to join us for Trivia.”
Glancing back at the guys, Miles also looks uncomfortable, but I believe for him, it’s for an entirely different reason. He’s definitely an introvert, and large crowds aren’t his thing. That’s precisely why I can’t help the flutter in my belly at the knowledge that, despite all that, he’s still here—for me.
“I mean, if anything, I’m the one who technically hooked him up with the soup, so I’m pretty sure it’s me he owes this big favor to,” Blair jokes, lightly nudging her elbow into my arm.
“Well, that sounds like a brother-sister type problem and something for the two of you to figure out,” I tease, just as the song ends. The crowd erupts into applause, everyone clapping and cheering. Blair and I join in, cupping our hands around our mouths to amplify the sound. We have to keep the tradition alive with the two of us still being the loudest ones in any room.
“I don’t know,” Blair picks up where we left off as the applause dies down and the next singer is called up.
“You don’t know what?” I ask, my brows knitting together.
“About this being a brother-sister type thing. It’s starting to sound more like a husband-and-wife type of thing. Is there anything you need to start sharing or get off your chest?” she presses, and this time, it’s her eyebrows that rise.
“Blair!” I shriek, reaching over and giving her a light shove. “Of course not. We’re just roommates,” I insist, trying to make it sound like less than it is.
“Yeah, roommates who are married and can’t seem to keep their eyes off each other.”
“Oh my God, no. That’s not how it is. at all” I nervously giggle, shaking my head, even though I can feel the color rising to my cheeks at the accusation.
“Not how it is? He’s looking over here right now,” she counters, as I turn my head and glance back toward our table. Just like she said, he’s staring directly at me. He sends an acknowledging nod my way before glancing back toward the small stage as the music for NYSNC’s “Bye Bye Bye” starts up and the performer begins their rendition—completely off-key, might I add. “So, what was that you were saying about it not being how it is?”
“I think you’re just reading into things,” I lie, my posture straightening as I attempt to look anywhere but at Blair or her way-too-good-looking older sibling.
“Ronnie, we’ve been best friends since kindergarten. I know you. What’s more, Miles is my brother, who I’ve known my entire life. You really think I don’t see what’s going on here?”
I scrunch my nose, crossing my arms with a dramatic sigh. “Alright, fine. You got me,” I say, shooting her a mock glare. “I might be ever so slightly developing feelings for your brother. Happy now?”
“I fucking knew it!” she proclaims, though I can’t quite tell if this is happy news for her or not. “I kept telling Ford after you guys helped me at my studio that something was up, but he kept insisting I was just reading into things.”
“No.” I sigh, my shoulders drooping, finding no use in lying to her, or really even to myself. “There is definitely something going on, at least on my end.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t stress about that. Like I said, I know Miles, and trust me, it’s written all over his face every time he thinks he’s sneakily stealing another glance at you. Believe me, it’s mutual. And let’s not ignore the fact that he willingly showed up to karaoke night. Karaoke night ! For Miles, that’s like scaling Mount Everest just to impress you. If that’s not a neon sign screaming ‘I’ve got it bad,’ then I don’t know what is.”
“Well... what do you think about it? Are you okay with this?” I ask, nervously nibbling my ruby-red, painted lower lip.
She lifts a shoulder in surrender. “What other choice do I have but to be okay with it? Do I wish things were different? Maybe, but that’s only because I’m terrified of either of you getting hurt and it somehow straining my relationships with both of you. At the same time, it’s kind of exciting. You being with my brother and getting to be my sister for real? That’s a dream come true,” she explains, a genuine smile crossing her face as she reaches for my hand, giving it a light squeeze.
“Well, don’t get too ahead of yourself here. There may be feelings being explored, but this is far from being an actual relationship. I mean, come on. You know your brother. He’s so hard to read, and half the time I think he’s only tolerating me because I’m your friend, and then other times...” I trail off, my gaze shifting back to steal another small peek at the man who’s been causing all this confusion.
She waves her hand to cut me off. “I get it. You’re my best friend, and I’m happy for you, but I’m sure there are certain parts of this whole ‘ thing ’ that I don’t need to hear,” she says, visibly shuddering. “But I will say this: I’ve never seen him act like this or look at any other woman the same way he’s looking at you. That speaks volumes, and I hope you know just how special you must be to him.”
Hearing her words, a familiar warmth spreads through me, making my stomach flutter. Before I can stop myself, a soft, almost involuntary smile tugs at my lips. My gaze instinctively drifts back toward him, and for a moment, everything and everyone in this loud, crowded bar fades away.
“Okay, wow. You really do have it bad, huh?” she asks, as I do my best to stop being a space cadet and return to our present reality. “I mean, I was pretty sure I sensed it earlier, but now that I know for sure, it’s so obvious. Hell, I’ve never even seen you look at anybody else like that before—not even Pete.”
I wrinkle my nose at the mention of my ex-fiancé’s name. In the grand scheme of things, it really hasn’t been all that long since I called off the wedding, but even this short time apart has given me the clarity I need. I still can’t understand how I ever convinced myself he was “the one,” especially when a man like Miles Bennett exists.
“Can we please not say his name out loud? What if he’s like Beetlejuice and just saying his name summons him here?” I joke, if only to lighten the situation. I’m having way too much fun to let myself spiral and go down that rabbit hole tonight.
“Good call. I mean, I’m sure we’ll eventually have to run into him at some point, but the longer we can push it off, the better,” she agrees. “I’m not sure I’d ever look at my brother and call him a catch, but even I’ll admit he's a much better option than Pete West.”
I wrinkle my nose and send her ‘ the look .’ “You said his name again. One more time and you’re going to screw us over,” I warn. “And come on. Your brother isn’t that bad.”
She sends me an apologetic look before miming the zipping of her lips. “And, no, he’s really not. I know he can come off rough around the edges, but when it comes to those he cares about, he’s all in and will never let anything bad happen to them. At least I know that if you two do end up together, your heart will always be safe. Just...” she trails off, looking back toward her brother. “Don’t break his heart. I know he seems tough, but deep down, all he’s ever needed is for someone to love him unconditionally.”
My gaze follows hers as I take in the gorgeous male. “I have no plans to hurt him, but who knows, this might not even go anywhere. As far as I know, as soon as the annulment is taken care of, he plans to be done with all of this,” I explain, pointing between him and me.
“Hmm,” she hums thoughtfully. “I’ll believe that when I see it,” she decides, shrugging one shoulder, just as our drinks arrive, along with an order of their amazing donuts with the chocolate dunking sauce.
With the drinks and donuts in hand, we make our way back toward our table and set everything down. Blair, with her hands now free, places them on Ford’s shoulders as she leans over him. He turns his head, and their lips meet in a sweet and tender kiss.
“Ugh, can you please not do that right next to me?” Miles begs, his face contorting into one of disgust.
“Nope. Sorry. You’re just going to have to deal with it,” Blair proudly states, as I slide back into my chair between Miles and Blair. At least Ford looks a little embarrassed as his cheeks turn a bright shade of red. “You’re just jealous.”
Miles scoffs. “Jealous?”
“Yep. If only you could be so lucky to have someone to kiss whenever you wanted,” Blair teases as I close my eyes and shake my head.
Miles folds his arms and sits up straighter. “Sorry to disappoint, but kissing in public isn’t my thing and never will be,” he says, reaching for his beer and taking a long swig.
I know exactly what Blair was trying to do, but it’s clear it didn’t land the way she’d hoped. Even worse, a sinking feeling settles in my stomach. It’s not like I was expecting him to confess anything, and I certainly wasn’t expecting him to kiss me in front of everyone—yet somehow, it still leaves me wondering if Blair is wrong about her brother’s feelings toward me. Maybe my worries are justified, and I’m not as important to him as he is to me.
Soon, the music and singing come to an end, and the crowd once again responds with claps and cheers before the next performer is called up.
“Hey, aren’t we after Buddy?” Ford asks as Buddy, the local barista, takes the microphone and begins a dramatic rendition of “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure we are. So, what song are you going to grace us with tonight, Ronnie?” Blair asks, since, like usual, I was the one from our group to volunteer to go first.
“I haven’t fully decided yet. Should I go for shock value or keep it simple tonight?” I ask, tilting my head in thought. The majority of the rumors about me have finally started to die down, and while I probably shouldn’t add any more fuel to the fire, taking the easy way out has never been my style.
“I think that depends,” Ford begins, his usual rational side emerging. “What kind of shock value are we talking about here?”
“Nothing too crazy.” I casually shrug, lifting my hand as I pretend to carefully examine my nails, which definitely need some help after not having had a manicure since right before my wedding, or at least the wedding that was supposed to take place between me and Pete.
“Define ‘ not too crazy ,’” Miles finally speaks up as he turns his smoldering gaze in my direction.
“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” I say, a devious smirk lighting up my face as I drop my hand, and reach for the fruity concoction I’d ordered, and bring it to my lips for a sip.
I wouldn’t say I planned this, but a sense of pride fills me as Miles’ gaze follows my lips as they wrap around the straw.
“Ugh,” Blair cuts in. “And you give us crap?” she asks as I try not to cough and choke on the red liquid I’d just consumed.
“What?” Miles asks, doing his best to act like he hadn’t just gotten caught by everyone at the table. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair.
“And next up, we have Ronnie Prescott,” the owner calls into the microphone once Buddy finishes up.
I know I should probably pick a song that lets me blend into the crowd, but that’s not who I am. I was made to stand out. With Pete gone, no longer dimming my shine or making me second-guess myself, I’m ready to own that stage.
Let them talk. Let the whispers start up again. Hell, I’ll bask in every second of it. Plus, the only attention and eyes I really care about being on me are Miles’s. And judging by the way he’s watching me walk up toward the stage, maybe Blair was right—I might already have exactly what I want.