by J. H. Croix
“And that is all I needed to hear about that,” Graham said dryly. He stood and stuffed his feet into a pair of winter boots.
“You're not her boss anymore,” Russell added.
“Nope. And I think it's best for both of you that you're not on the same crew anymore.”
“Why, though? I like being on the same schedule as her,” Russell pressed.
“Because there's a reason Ward and Susanna aren't on the same crew. You don't need to be worried about how she's doing out in the field,” Graham said flatly.
Russell grumbled before nodding. “I get it, even if I don't like it. I gotta bolt,” he said as he put his jacket on. “You be good to Mae.” He pointed at me before he strode out of the room.
I shrugged into my jacket and checked my locker to make sure I had my keys. When I turned, I collided with Graham's assessing gaze. I liked him as superintendent for the crew. He was solid, had no tolerance for drama, and he treated everyone on the crew as equals.
“How well do you know Mae?” I heard myself asking, immediately cursing myself.
“She was a year or two behind me in school, but we grew up together in Willow Brook,” Graham offered. “Her parents are good people.”
My gaze whipped to his. Because I was that fucking hungry for information about Mae. “To my knowledge, she's never been serious with anybody. At least not here. Her mom's friends with my mom, and I hear everything from my mom because she's a gossip. According to my mom and her mom, she’s never had a serious relationship.”
“So, this is like fourth hand?” I asked dryly.
Graham chuckled. “My mom thinks she has baggage.”
“How the hell does your mom know that?”
“Small fucking town, dude. Like I said, her mom and my mom are practically besties.”
I took a breath, letting it out quickly. “I wish I’d been a few years older when I knew her before. Maybe then, I’d have had enough sense to figure out what the hell went wrong.”
“I get it, man. I know all about being too young to know better. I got a daughter from it. Best thing that ever happened to me. No judgment on that score. Just—” He paused, studying me for a beat. “Mae’s not the kind of girl to play casual with. I don't know you that well because you’ve only been around for a few months, but you seem solid. You don't seem like the kind of guy who’d fuck with her feelings.”
“I'm not,” I said solemnly.
It wasn't like I was planning to marry Mae all of a sudden, but I would never play with her feelings. I didn’t want to hurt her, by accident or otherwise. I suspected something I’d done before had hurt her by accident.
“You want to grab a beer?” Graham asked.
“Sure.”
I could use a beer, and I liked hanging out with Graham. I liked most of the guys on my crew.
Phoebe happened to be walking past our locker room, and Graham called out, “Yo, Phoebe!”
She stopped, leaning around the doorway to peer into the locker room. “What's up, guys?”
“Crew night at Wildlands,” Graham replied.
“Who’s going?”
“Just us three,” he returned.
“And me,” a voice chimed in when Chase appeared beside her.
“All right, let's do it,” Phoebe replied, nudging Chase with her shoulder.
Chapter Thirteen
Rowan
Wildlands was clearly a favorite hangout in town, and not just for the hotshot crews. “This place stays busy all the time,” I commented as I glanced around the full restaurant and the crowded bar.
“Always,” Graham agreed.
Phoebe lifted her beer and took a swallow. After setting it down, she let her gaze arc around the space before it came to me. “I remember when I was a kid. I couldn't wait to be old enough to come here when it was a bar. And now it’s old news, and I'm not even thirty yet.” She twisted her mouth to the side and let out a sigh.
Paisley slipped into a chair beside Phoebe at that moment, catching the tail end of her comment. “Thirty is not that old.”
Phoebe’s eyes slid to her, and she shrugged. “Maybe not, but I feel old right now.”
Graham's brows hitched up. “Well, at least you don't have a fourteen-year-old daughter. She manages to make me feel fucking ancient sometimes.”
I chuckled. “Makes sense. I have a sixteen-year-old sister, and she makes me feel ancient.”
“Oh, you have a sister?” Phoebe commented.
“Oh, yeah. She was my parents’ surprise baby, and apparently, now she's dating some asshole.” I sighed and shook my head.
Graham's eyes widened. “I can’t deal. I'll lose my shit if that happens with Allie.”
“I’m hoping it’s a short relationship.”
A few others joined us, and it was nice to relax and hang out with friends from work. I knew the very second Mae walked in because I felt the hair rise on my forearms and a prickle of awareness run down my spine. I glanced over my shoulder. She was by herself and paused, glancing around as if she were looking for someone. As soon as her eyes landed on mine, I waved and stood. I heard Graham's snort, but I ignored it as I walked toward her.
“Looking for someone?” I asked when I stopped in front of her.
Her pretty ginger eyes met mine. “Holly’s meeting me here.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and then sighed. “Oh, she canceled because she’s staying late at work. Shit.”
“Come sit with me.”
“You sure?” A little crease formed between her eyes, and I wanted to smooth it away.
“Of course, I'm sure. I'm just hanging out with the crew, all of whom you probably know better than I do. Come on.” I reached for her hand without thinking. The second I touched her, I thought she’d pull away, but she didn’t, and the feel of her fingers lacing into mine felt just right.
When we reached the table, Phoebe had already scooted over and patted the chair beside her. “Hey, Mae!” They side-hugged quickly, and Phoebe's curious eyes landed on mine. “You know Rowan then?”
A pink tinge bloomed on Mae’s cheeks when she nodded. “I do.” I was about to explain when Mae added, “We knew each other in college.”
A server stopped by the table. After that, conversation flowed easily, and I watched while Mae caught up with the friends she’d grown up with. It was kind of strange because, to me, she took up so much space in my memory that it felt as if I’d known her forever. Yet she’d known many of these people much longer than me.
I was glad to see Mae, really glad. But there was one small problem—I couldn't be near her without being hyperaware of everything. Her knee brushed mine at one point. Just that subtle touch was so hot, it was as if I’d been singed by a flame. I had to adjust the way I was sitting because my arousal was tight in the confines of my jeans.
Fuck me. Mae was a straight shot into the vein of my desire. She was hungry and ordered food, but eschewed a glass of wine because she was driving. An hour or more later, I realized I could hardly focus on the conversation around me.
While Mae was chatting with Phoebe about something, Graham nudged me with his elbow. “Dude, you're pathetic.”
“What do you mean?” I glanced at him.
“You’ve got it bad.”
I didn’t even try to deny it. “I know.”
Eventually, the group filtered apart, and I walked out with Mae, reaching for her hand while we walked down the narrow hallway in the back. I held her hand all the way out to her car. She tapped the key fob to start it before looking up at me. “You can go, you know. I can drive myself home,” she said lightly.
“I know you can. Just one thing.”
“What’s that?” Her breath puffed in the cold air.
I rested my hands on her car, caging her between my arms. She smiled up at me, her eyes searching mine.
I wanted to take her home so bad and have her all to myself. But I knew I needed to take it slow, so I told myself a kiss would be okay. Actually, a kiss would
be fucking amazing. I knew what it was like to kiss Mae.
She had on this cute little knit cap with her hair tucked underneath. “I like this,” I said, running my fingertips along the edge of the stitching.
“I knitted it myself.”
“Did you now?”
She nodded. “I like to knit.”
“What would I have to do to get you to knit me one of these?”
Her lips twitched, and a giggle slipped out. “I don't know. I’ll have to think about it.”
“How about a kiss?” I murmured when my lips were but a whisper away from hers.
“How about this?”
She leaned up, brushing her lips across mine. The second her tongue darted out, I let out something between a growl and a groan. Once again, we tumbled into kiss after kiss, and I took deep sips from her mouth.
Before I knew it, I had her plastered against me. I even forgot where we were until the sound of a door slamming and a horn honking snapped me into awareness. I lifted my head, taking in a gulp of the icy cold air.
Her forehead dropped to my chest. “We can't seem to just kiss, huh?”
A laugh rustled in my throat. “Right now, that's all that's happening. You're going to get in that car, and you're going to go home. I'm going to see you for dinner next.”
She lifted her head and peered up at me. “I need to tell you something.” She was suddenly serious, but she also looked nervous.
“Okay, you can tell me anything.”
Chapter Fourteen
Mae
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I muttered to myself.
Rowan had waited for me to explain what the hell I meant to tell him, and then I freaked and said I had to go. I hadn't even given him a chance to stop me, fumbling and dropping my keys before I could get in my car. He'd sent me a text, asking if we could talk, and I hadn’t replied yet.
I was in the bathtub at the house. Gram had a great bathtub—an old clawfoot tub, extra deep with the perfect angle to rest my head against the back. I felt so keyed up over telling him I needed to tell him something. I couldn't even relax. Now I was going to have to cancel dinner. Ugh.
After I toweled off and dressed in my most comfortable pajamas, I plunked down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. I turned on Schitt’s Creek because I needed something to lighten my mood. I'd even been avoiding looking at my phone out of fear he would text me again. I finally got up the nerve to look at the screen.
Rowan: So you kind of freaked out there. I don’t know what you need to tell me, but for God's sake, don't cancel dinner on me.
Before I could think better of it, I responded.
Me: It’s nothing you want to know, so can we forget I said I needed to tell you something.
I hit send, jabbing at my phone screen.
His reply was swift.
Rowan: Mae, I can’t forget that you said that. Just tell me. Can I call you?
Me: Not now. I don't want to talk about it. I am canceling dinner. You can't tell me I can't cancel.
Rowan: Can I please come over? I’d rather not try to have this convo over text.
Before I could reply, my phone rang in my hand. I stared at his number as it flashed, then reluctantly swiped my thumb across the screen.
“What?” I knew my tone sounded mulish, but I didn’t care. I was doing all I could to keep from panicking. Rowan didn’t need to know anything about that night.
“Can we rewind?”
“Sure. I have nothing to tell you.”
“Mae, please don’t do this. I know you’re not telling me something about why you stopped talking to me. You have to know it’s been driving me crazy. Whatever it is, just tell me.”
My heart raced, and I felt a little sick. My skin felt tingly but not in a good way. I was so relieved Rowan couldn't see me.
“Let's just have dinner,” he prompted.
“Okay, fine,” I muttered.
I was about to hang up when Rowan’s voice caught me like a hook. “You mean a lot to me, Mae.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t know what went wrong and why you stopped talking to me, but I was half in love with you in college. If it was your roommate hitting on me, just tell me so I know. I hate that I didn't have a chance to figure out what happened. All these years, I thought you kind of hated me.”
My heart twisted in my chest. “I didn’t hate you, Rowan,” I whispered.
“Okay, well, I just wanted you to know you mean a lot to me,” he said in his slow Southern drawl.
My belly was all fluttery, and I felt as if I were a stick of butter melting in the hot sun. This man was treacherous for my heart. I didn't let myself get vulnerable for a reason, and now it was happening with him in spite of all of my defenses.
Maybe it will be okay. Maybe if you tell Rowan the whole truth, it won’t blow up in your face.
My hopeful little heart whispered to me, and I wanted to ignore it. But it was hard, so very hard, to resist Rowan and my feelings for him. All this time, I’d thought if I could block out everything and everyone who reminded me of the worst night of my life, I could forget it. Even though my therapist had gently and carefully tried to help me face the fact that I couldn’t just erase my own memory.
“So, dinner Saturday at that new gallery restaurant? Tell me what time I'm picking you up,” he prompted.
“Oh, so you're picking me up?”
The sound of his low chuckle sent shivers chasing over my skin. “I'd like to.”
Against all reason, I gave in. Dinner wouldn’t hurt me. “Okay. Five thirty. It gets dark early, so I don't like to be out late.”
“Five thirty, it is. Good night, Mae.”
Chapter Fifteen
Rowan
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling with an elbow propped behind my head and my other palm resting flat on the mattress. I couldn’t stop thinking about Mae.
Realizing I wasn't going to sleep unless I took matters into my own hand, literally, I reached down and slid my hand over my arousal. I let out a groan, recalling the feel of Mae’s lips underneath mine. Only moments later, my release spurted over my belly. I let out a ragged sigh. Maybe I'd sleep now.
Fuck. What the hell wasn’t Mae telling me?
After cleaning up in the bathroom and returning to my bed, I punched my pillow under my head as I rolled onto my side. I'd been thinking we would finally let this bonfire burn like flames into the sky. But now, I thought it was best if I took things even more slowly.
Chapter Sixteen
Mae
Phoebe sat across from me at Firehouse Café, blinking back tears.
“Oh, wow. That's really shitty,” I said.
She lifted her cup of coffee and took a quick swallow before setting it down with a thump. “I know. Trust me, I know.”
“You and Tasha were like best friends in high school.”
“Sure were.”
“Oh, god. And the wedding’s going to be here in town?” I asked slowly.
“Yep.”
“Well, none of us are going to stand up for Tasha. I don't care who she asks,” I said firmly.
Phoebe had just broken the news that her high school best friend was engaged to her ex-fiancé. Apparently, right after they had broken up this summer, Phoebe walked in on her friend and her ex. Now, they were already getting married and planning a wedding here in this tiny town.
“Maybe your mom should talk to the pastor or their friends. Maybe they won't even hold the wedding here.”
Phoebe rolled her eyes. “You know they will.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“Dirk and I broke up before I found out. I didn't want to marry him, and I don't want him back. It's just—” She let out a frustrated sigh. “Fuck. It feels like being emotionally dropkicked. She was my best friend. Who does that? I found out after the fact that they'd been screwing around for months behind my back, and now they're getting married.”
“How did you find out they were getting marri
ed?”
“Tasha called to beg for my forgiveness, and she wants me to be there. She feels like she needs to close the loop and heal the circle or some bullshit. You don't fuck your friend’s fiancé behind their back. That's like a rule, right?”
“Yep, that is definitely a rule in the unwritten friendship handbook,” I said firmly.
Phoebe knuckled at a tear that escaped and slipped down her cheek. I stood, rounding the table to give her a quick hug. “She's a shitty friend.”
Phoebe gave me a hard squeeze in return, and I returned to my chair across from her.
“I know she is. It’s just I really don’t want to deal with having it thrown in my face here in town.”
“Honestly, I'm a little shocked she's having the wedding here,” I commented, breaking off a piece of my scone and popping it in my mouth.
My friend twisted her lips to the side as she rolled her eyes. “I know, right? It’s fucked up.”
“For what it’s worth, you always had more friends than Tasha did.” I was feeling a little petty, but it was true.
Phoebe laughed. “I guess so.”
“How can I help?”
Phoebe cast me a quick smile. “You already did. Do I have to forgive her?”
“Maybe for your own sanity, but forgiveness doesn’t mean you have to be her friend again. Nobody would expect that.”
Phoebe stared at me quietly, her brow knitting. “What do you mean?”
“Just that. I'm not saying right this second you need to forgive Tasha for screwing around with your fiancé. Even if you didn’t want to stay with him, that is off-limits for anyone who claims to be a friend. What I mean is you can let it go when you’re ready, but that doesn’t mean you have to be her best friend again.”
She studied me for a moment before cocking her head to the side. “I think that's what she wants. She says she misses our friendship.”