by Harloe Rae
The gleam of spotless glass catches my eye. I pick up the framed diploma and smooth a finger over my name written in scrolling script. This piece of embossed paper represents so much. All of the credits and courses that give me a sturdy foundation. Valuable lessons that can never be replicated. Late nights of studying and missed hours of sleep. Perhaps most importantly, honed and sharpened skills that will advance me in a competitive field. My career is built on this degree. I’ll be taken more seriously because of the time and effort spent earning it. The memory of a certain green-eyed boy glares at me. He didn’t believe advanced education was necessary to be successful. That opinion isn’t wrong, it just isn’t mine.
The final feathers of my youth are strewn about campus. Not that twenty-two is old. But most of my reckless and rash decision making is behind me. That’s what I’m claiming, at least. A streak of untamed impulsiveness remains. I’ll never be able to shed my ability to make poor choices. Not entirely. Even now, as I prepare to become a professional and take on a more serious role in society, that stubborn strand lays dormant just beneath the surface. I feel that tightly wound coil waiting for an opportune moment to break free. Returning to my roots probably has a lot to do with that.
Without further dwelling, I set the frame in a box with the rest of my valuable mementos. I roll my shoulders in an attempt to alleviate the pressure building there. For every friction of excitement that zips along my skin, a daunting shiver follows. There’s so much change coming and I can’t seem to collect my scattered feelings. Returning home to begin my adult life isn’t all roses and sunny warmth. There’s one very large storm cloud waiting to crash down on me. Or maybe he’ll continue avoiding my path. I’ve been made well aware that’s one of his newfound specialties. And contradicting myself is one of mine.
It’s discouraging, and more than a little upsetting.
“Whatcha doing, Sutt?”
The question efficiently stops me from traveling further down that dark road. I give my friend a small smile. “Packing what’s left of my stuff.”
“Ah, exhilarating. I just stacked up the last of mine.” Harlyn peeks into the nearest box and looks back at me. Whatever she finds makes her squint, studying me with greater scrutiny than necessary. I try not to squirm as she digs deeper under my layers. She tilts her head at me. “You’re not getting sentimental, right? We both know that’s my job.”
I wrinkle my nose, trying to hide the slight sting from the earlier reverie. The pungent aroma of cleaning supplies filters into my lungs. “I’m fine. It’s just a big move.”
Her lower lip sticks out. “And we won’t be roomies anymore.”
A familiar tug pulls taut in my belly. “Don’t remind me. I’ll be stuck with my parents for at least a month.”
She swings an arm around my shoulders. “No luck finding a place to rent?”
“Nothing with immediate availability. The earliest opening was July, but most are August or later.”
“Downtown or in the outskirts?”
I laugh at that. “Not sure there’s a huge difference when it comes to Silo Springs. I found a few within a mile or two of Main Street. But you’re well aware of how spread out everyone is. There aren’t a lot of residential spaces in the heart of town.”
“Saves room for all those adorable shops. And maybe your future office.” She wiggles her brows.
That earns her a dry scoff. “An apartment will suffice for both purposes. I’ll happily work out of my living room.”
Harlyn shimmies away so she can face me. “Are you so excited to get Sunny Monday Solutions rolling?”
I bite my lip and smile. “I really am. It still seems a bit crazy to me. I never anticipated this outpouring type of response when I decided on my career.”
A zing darts up my spine when I think about the clients already lined up. Being a media marketing manager might not be glamorous to some, but it’s a dream for me. I’ll get to help others achieve and increase sales while continuing to grow my own portfolio. This is my version of creative talent. Searching for authentic content to post that will highlight their products is only the beginning. Making sure their online presence is consistent and reliable is key for my success. Building their brand into something we’ll all be proud of is the ultimate goal. I allow a ghost of a smile to tilt my lips while reciting the mental list.
“I honestly can’t wait to dive in,” I add.
“Those romance authors are lucky to have you. Maybe you’ll get signed copies of their books as a bonus.” Her eyes sparkle under the dining room lamp.
“A few boxes are already on the way. I need them for pictures. K.K. Allen is a whiz on Instagram and is showing me the ropes. She tossed in a personalized Center of Gravity paperback. That’s my favorite. I’m already getting spoiled.” I wink at her.
“You better share.”
“Pretty sure your life is already packed with hearts and flowers. Foster is your real Prince Charming. That man stepped straight out of a fairy tale.”
Her sigh is whimsical. “He really did. I can’t believe we’ve only been dating a few months. It feels like so much longer.”
I catch the pure joy radiating off her, wanting to soak it in. “Soulmates.”
She leans against the table and folds her arms. “Can’t fault fate. We’re crazy meant to be.”
“You’re welcome, Miss I-Didn’t-Want-To-Take-A-Spring-Break-Trip. I’m always happy to prove you wrong.” I giggle when she sticks her tongue out at me. After shooting her an air-kiss, I swipe through the air. “Okay, enough mush. Are you all set to live in the big city?”
Harlyn makes a see-saw motion with her hand. “I guess? It’s a bit intimidating for this country girl. But I’ll adapt to the surroundings. I’m really excited about the school. Making a difference for those kids is what matters most.”
“And you will. You’ll be the best teacher that district has.”
She’s quiet for a moment, her laser-focus zoomed in on me. “Are you trying to butter me up?”
I toss out an exaggerated gasp. “What? No. Why would I be?”
“Because today is kinda sad.” She shrugs. “And you’re avoiding heavier topics.”
“Not sure what you mean.” But I totally do. I’m sure my expression is guarded. There is stuff I keep hidden, even from my best friend.
Harlyn huffs and blows some bangs off her forehead. “Is Jace happy you’re coming home?”
Surprise widens my eyes. I wasn’t expecting that. “Oh, I’m sure he’s positively thrilled to get me back within spying distance. My brother is a pain in the ass. Even two hundred miles couldn’t save me from his interference.”
To call him protective is a massive understatement. Nothing would make that man happier than me remaining single for the rest of my life.
My friend quirks a brow. “Are we talking about your lack of dating?”
“And everything else where the opposite sex is involved.” I keep my features flat.
She laughs. “Jace might be cause for a few failed flings, but there’s another man who deserves more blame.”
I press a finger to her lips. “Don’t you dare.”
“Mur yeuo fnew tits rurth.”
“What was that?” I remove the flimsy gag.
“That Bowen boy still has you wrapped—”
This time I clap my entire palm over her mouth. Prickles erupt along the nape of my neck. Thinking about him always gets my body buzzing. “No. Absolutely not.”
Harlyn rolls her eyes but stays silent. I pull my hand away. She smiles so wide that it reaches her eyes.
“We’ll see how long you last being back in Silo Springs. Does that one guy I’m apparently not allowed to name still live with your parents?”
I force out a harsh exhale. “Real clever, Hae. But no, thankfully. He moved into his own house.”
“So, the threat of running into him is low?”
I bite my lip. Warmth spreads through my belly at the idea alone. “Can’t promise that. H
e still works for my dad sometimes.”
She walks to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water. “You know an awful lot about this phantom.”
“Jace is his best friend. Even if I wanted out of the loop, I’d get reeled back in.” I join her in the kitchen and pour a glass of iced tea.
Harlyn studies me while taking a sip. “Is that going to be okay with you?”
“It won’t make a difference if I see him or not. I understand where we rest and our final score. Plus, he’s become really good at keeping his distance from me whenever I visit. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”
Not that it really matters. I have plans of my own. And they sure as shit don’t involve Grady Bowen. I wince while the harsh lie rattles around in my mind.
Try as I might, my future will always have a designated space for that jerk.
I peek over at my roommate. The grin on Harlyn’s face says it all. She’s not believing the lines I’m spewing. Heck, I can’t blame her. She bumps her hip into mine. “Well, I’ll only be a quick text away if you need assistance.”
“And several towns over,” I mutter.
She waves me off. “A minor technicality. I’ll always be around for moral support.”
“That’s one of the reasons I love you.” I smile at her.
Harlyn holds up a finger. “Don’t forget my cooking and cleaning skills.”
“Foster is reaping so many benefits. He must be wild in the sack to keep you hooked.”
A blush paints her cheeks. “As if you don’t already know. And I’m not moving in with him.”
“Yet,” I tack on for her.
She chews on her thumb nail. “It’s only been a few months.”
“Of paradise.”
“Never thought you’d be the one pushing for this.” She shoots me a narrow side-eye.
“When it’s right, why wait?”
Harlyn laughs. “You’ve been reading too many romance novels.”
“Have to get my kicks somewhere.”
Her lower lip pops out. “Aww. I want you to meet someone special.”
My chest tightens with her words. There’s only one guy I’ve ever imagined spending my life with. I grew up with stars in my eyes aimed at him. Loving Grady was instinct. The dislike part has been more of a slow burn. My lovesick heart is finally beginning to admit that he never saw me as more than a little kid chasing him around.
And here I am, about to take up permanent residence in hostile territory. Fingers effing crossed.
I mosey back to the table and fold the flaps of my final box. After adding it to the stack near the door, I dust off my hands. My dad and brother will be here tomorrow to do the heavy lifting. I turn around, surveying our shared space with a wobbly smile. The majority of our stuff is packed, but the couch and television remain.
“What should we do with our final night?” I ask Harlyn while still staring at the mostly bare living room. The wood floor shines from the unfiltered sunlight pouring through the windows. Not sure the place has sparkled so bright since we moved in two years ago.
Harlyn stands next to me, joining in the reflection of our apartment. “How about an epic Netflix binge? Then we can have dinner at The Tavern.”
My stomach rumbles at the suggestion. “I’ll miss their chicken stew and roasted potatoes. Oh, and the fresh baked bread.”
She licks her lips and nods. “It’s only a few hours to drive.”
“I know.” My acknowledgement comes out as a whisper. I glance away as my eyes get hot.
“It’s going to be amazing, Sutt. You’ll be so happy.” She dips her face to peek up at me.
I can’t hide my sniffle. “I’m just being overly emotional again. Don’t mind me.”
Harlyn grips my fidgeting fingers. “In a month, when you’re planting roots into a new apartment, this will seem like old news.”
“I suppose.”
“You’ll be surrounded by love and family. I’ll make sure Jace keeps an extra close eye on you.” Her grin is pure trouble. “Wouldn’t want a shred of weakness to ruin all these goals.”
That turns my mood in the opposite direction. “Urgh, please don’t. He does more than enough without being encouraged. I’m hoping some woman has caught his attention so he’ll leave me alone.”
“It’s more likely to catch a flying pig. He’s not settling down anytime soon.”
She’s right, of course. My brother has the tendency to jump ship before the girl can suggest a second date. His commitment issues rival—
I shake my head. Dammit. All this Grady talk has him cropping up in every direction. I need to shove him to the recesses of my mind where he belongs. That’s how I’ve kept my heart intact these last four years. The method will be my source for survival while battling our lack of physical proximity.
So much easier to say than do.
Happy something #67: Not having to look over my shoulder each second of every damn day.
I drop my ass onto a stool and the shredded leather cushion groans in protest. The worn wooden legs can hardly hold my weight. Heaven forbid this dump springs for new chairs, or pay to update anything for that matter. A quick glance around Howlers is a flashback to an era before I was born.
A jukebox—the kind with vinyl records—rests near the entrance. Faded posters for movies that came out on VHS hang at crooked angles along the walls. There’s a cigarette machine between the bathrooms. Each time I walk inside is a taste of living in the past, which is weird as hell.
Smoking hasn’t been allowed inside this spot for decades, yet the stench still clings like the bad habit itself. The lights are low, hiding the poor decisions being made. But no one casts judgment. That’s what I appreciate about this outdated dive. Everyone who steps foot into this place is on the same level. I’ll fucking cheers to that all damn day.
As if hearing my thoughts, Decker slides a cold beer in front of me. I lift my chin in greeting. The bartender salutes and strides off to help another customer. The place has a few perks, shitty decor be damned. I lift the bottle to my lips and take a long swig. The bitter hops hit my tongue, making me feel right at home. A bit of tension eases from my muscles. This is exactly what I needed.
A cloud of lung-seizing perfume assaults my nostrils. I cringe against the sickly-sweet burn. A moment later, sharp fingernails dig into the flesh of my shoulder.
“Hiya, Gray.” The scent is already suffocating me, and Trista’s nasally whine makes my ears bleed. I’m sure she means for the pitchy purr to be seductive. The breathy sound only succeeds at grating on my nerves. I pry her claws from the fierce grip she has on me.
“It’s Grady.” I spit the words through clenched teeth. The reminder shouldn’t be necessary.
Her responding giggle is acid in my veins. “You’re so funny. We’ve known each other long enough that I can use your nickname.”
Something black and dirty twists inside of me. The fuck she can. Only one girl calls me that and she’s long gone. “Nah, Trista. Grady will do. Need something?”
The question is a courtesy she doesn’t deserve, but I ask it all the same.
She twirls a lock of her bleach-blonde hair. “Want some company?”
A quick shake of my head. “Nope.”
“Maybe you should think a little harder.”
I snort at the innocent pout this chick is trying to pull off. Every man within a five-mile radius is well aware of the game she’s trying to play. Most fall victim to the tempting ploy. But I sure don’t.
Trista’s fingers walk up my arm. “Come on, Grady. Just a drink.”
The stool squeaks when I jerk away from her reach. “I’m all set. Go hassle some other sap.”
“But Grady—”
A clap to my back is a welcome interruption. “Hey, brother. What’s up?” Jace narrows his gaze at the scantily clad woman hovering by my side. “Am I intruding?”
I let my lips pinch with the threat of a grin. “Nope. She was just saying goodbye.”
Trista glar
es at my friend. Several awkward beats pass where the three of us stare at one another. Without another word, she huffs and stomps off.
Jace eases down onto an empty seat. Smart move considering the likelihood of that shit breaking. Decker stops by long enough to pass him a cold beer. What can I say, the service is tough to beat.
He enjoys a couple pulls and leans an elbow on the bar. “Trista?” Jace whistles. “That chick has been after your junk since high school. You’d think she’d get the message by now.”
I snort. “Her perfume is killing brain cells. That’s gotta be it.”
He taps his bottle against mine. “No shit. Smelling like a flower explosion isn’t sexy.”
And that’s the truth. The most alluring scent is coconut with subtle hints of strawberry. It’s the aroma of forbidden desire. Just the memory makes my dick twitch, which in turn has me feeling like a filthy asshole. I tug at the waistband of my jeans and groan. If the guy sitting on my left knew I fantasize about his little sister, he’d likely string me up by the balls. When I glance over, Jace is studying me closer than I’m comfortable with. I almost tell him to knock it off.
He tilts his head at me. “So, what’s up? Surprised to see you around while the sun is still out.”
I pick at the grease under my nails. “Ran outta paint for the Drefter house. Called it an early day.”
“Ah, gotcha. How’s the project going?”
“Smooth, as always. These jobs are all simple restoration.”
He nods. “And your place?”
“That’s a challenge I can appreciate.” I smirk.
“Glad to see something makes you smile.” The expression slips off my lips and Jace grunts. “Shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
I scowl. “Nah, that makes me feel foolish. It’s just a house.”
Jace grips my shoulder. “But it’s yours. Free and clear. You’re allowed to be proud of that.”
I shake off his touch. “For now. I’m sure something will change that soon enough.”
My mother immediately comes to mind. She’s a deeper money pit than the foreclosure I snatched up at bottom dollar. That thought turns my stomach. The brew I’d been enjoying turns sour with an unpleasant gurgle. I finish off my ruined beer and slam the empty bottle down. Decker walks over but I wave him off. It’s a one and done sort of afternoon. I stand and reach for my wallet. After settling up the tab, I turn to leave.