Chapter 34
Sebastian
“HOW’S IT GOING WITH the girlfriend?” I texted Nathan. “She have a name yet?”
“Hillary. I never mentioned it before, huh?” he replied almost immediately. “Guess I was afraid to jinx it. Hilly, Hills. I think I’m in love. You’ll meet her when you get back. Any update on that, btw?”
“Would be happy to. Soon. Tell her hi from me.”
Ruby and I didn’t use nicknames for each other. Maybe because those felt like claiming someone as your own, and we weren’t there. Yet. I remembered calling her Ruby Tuesday—just once or twice. I never stuck with it for that exact reason.
That Rolling Stones song fit her perfectly—I didn’t have to ask why she needed to be so free, and if I did, my Ruby, like theirs, would say it was the only way to be.
“Hilly sends hi back. Plants are hanging in there. I’m out the door now. TTYL,” Nathan signed off.
I eyed the empty takeout containers with the Bar & Grill logo still sitting on the table before switching over to another text waiting on my screen.
“Okay. Beer. You’re on,” I typed.
I was in my rented Mustang and out of the inn’s pathway ten minutes later.
The Shore Thing in Blueshore was busy, but I spotted Brandon at the bar.
His hairline had receded since the last time I’d seen him, but he looked more confident, too.
Married life, kids, responsibility—they’d settled on him in a way that fit.
We weren’t best friends, but we’d managed to meet every now and then over the years.
Maybe it was nostalgia more than anything else.
We’d been two of the quieter ones back then, both more comfortable behind the scenes than in the spotlight, and that was enough of a bond to make the occasional beer feel easy.
“How you doing?” I patted his shoulder as I slid onto the stool beside him.
“Good! Great seeing you, man. How are you? Houston? Work? Visiting your folks?”
“Which one do you want answered first?” I smiled, signaling for the bartender to bring me what he was having.
“All of them.” He chuckled.
“Good, good, good, and yes,” I said, taking my glass. “How’s Ellie?” Brandon and Ellie were the Force Alliance club’s only success story—fifteen years married. Ruby and I had a history, too. Ten years of being something to each other. A different kind of success.
Brandon grinned like he couldn’t help it. “Started doing pickleball. She’s obsessed. And she sends her regards.” He swiped through his phone and held it out. “Can you believe I’ve got a teenager?”
The kid stared back at me from the screen, lanky and already too cool for family photos.
“Man, that age is a pain in the ass. I don’t think I gave my parents this much trouble,” Brandon said. “Then again, I was the dork who kissed his first girl at eighteen, and this guy’s had three girlfriends already.”
“And they say oranges don’t grow on apple trees.” I chuckled, scrolling through the photos of his younger kids. “They’re great kids,” I said, meaning it. Brandon and Ellie had the kind of family chaos that looked exhausting and good all at once.
He sipped his beer, then said, “Funny thing, I thought of you the other day. I heard they’re hiring engineers over at Ames in Silicon Valley. Made me wonder if you’d ever think about moving back here. Houston’s where the real action happens, so probably not.”
The comment struck heavier than I expected. I knew Ames were hiring. I’d even caught myself scrolling through their job postings once or twice, like I was testing the thought of giving myself a reason to move back.
Three years ago, I wouldn’t have considered it. I liked my quiet apartment, my routine. But sitting here, looking at a man who’d married his high school sweetheart and built a life that was full—messy, but full—I felt that ache for something lasting, something mine.
“I might, one day,” I said.
“You’re still a ... what do they call it these days? Heard my son say it and nearly sent him to his room. Fuckboy. They call it fuckboy these days.” He chuckled nervously, as if cool-kids’ slang still felt like shoes a size too big for him.
“Um, no. I don’t think I’m one.” I sipped my beer.
Brandon grinned suddenly. “You’re still friends with Ruby?”
“Yeah.” I kept my eyes on the bottles behind the bar.
“Heard you were helping her with the inn. Staying there. Ellie’s friend—oh, you know her—Heather! Remember Heather? Man, I had a crush on her. Who didn’t?”
I didn’t.
“Anyway, she’s with Ellie in pickleball and told her she ran into you. Asked about you, actually. She’s twice divorced now,” he said, lowering his voice like it was classified intel.
“Yeah, I help her with some engineering stuff.” I took another sip. Anything I’d say would go straight to his wife and from there to the entire town.
Brandon gave me a teasing look. “So that friend thing ... you’re not just friends, right? Like you go to bed together and ...?”
It was almost endearing how the man couldn’t finish the sentence without turning red.
“Yeah,” I said wryly. “Maybe I am just a fuckboy.”
Brandon laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. “Nah, man. Enjoy it while you can. Family, kids—not everyone gets there at the same time. You will when it fits, I’m sure. If you want, just say the word, and I can think of five women from the top of my head that Ellie and I can set you up with.”
I smiled, appreciating the easy confidence in his tone. We weren’t close, but it felt good to sit beside someone who’d already built the kind of life I was craving.