Chapter 3

Zeke

I fuckin'hated these things. Loud music, obnoxious people, and light beer. Absolutely disgusting.

But I came every single Friday night. Because Paisley and Gannon asked me to. And Lord knew I didn't have enough friends to turn down a social invite.

My life was simple: I worked a physical job, I came home to my dog and a hot meal, and I went to bed. Repeat. Some might say my life was boring or unfulfilled or lonely. I'd say they added unnecessary complications as a distraction from the fact that they actually craved simplicity. Potato, po-tah-to.

I'd just turned thirty. I built my house with my own two hands and it was paid off. I helped others in my community with my skills. And I took care of my mom by making sure she got out of the house and lived a little. I had everything I needed and zero distractions.

Until tonight.

Standing as far away from the dance floor as I could get without one of Paisley's friends dragging me out there to shuffle my feet until I could escape back to the shadows, I took another sip of this piss water they called beer. When my head came back to neutral, my gaze settled on a new figure on the dance floor. She was short, blonde, and curvy in all the right places. Her long hair swung behind her as she shook her ass in painted-on blue jeans. Her hands were in the air like she had not one care in the world.

I grunted, squinting to see her better. Interesting. Very few women in the last decade had caught my eye, and this one had definitely caught my attention. I took exactly one step closer and she spun around in time with the music. That's when my simple world fell apart.

"Rainey."

I said her name like a prayer and a curse all rolled into one tiny woman I wanted to sweep into my arms while simultaneously strangling.

I blinked and then rubbed my eyes for good measure. She was still there, oblivious to the fact that my boots had turned to cement. I was rooted to the spot, staring at her like she was some kind of apparition. Or a demon disguised as an angel sent back to Blueball to wreck my life.

The song changed and her face lit up into a brilliant smile as the new song got going with an even faster beat. It felt like time had somehow shrunk back to when I was eighteen and mooning after the one girl who was oblivious to my feelings. And that made me angry.

I'd done a lot of work on myself to get over Rainey. I'd driven hours just to go to a book store where no one would know me so I could buy self-help books and journals and shit. I'd listened to fucking meditations and guided imagery just to get her out of my head. I'd even burned her picture in some sort of symbolism that did nothing to mend my heart. Here she was, out there dancing so carefree, like she hadn't completely shattered my heart twelve years ago.

I. Was. Pissed.

Because Rainey was back, and I was half in love with her already.

Anger unfroze my feet, and I stormed across to the dance floor to loom over her. She was even prettier now, the round, youthful cheeks hollowed out to a strong cheekbone structure. Her dark lashes fanned her face with her eyes closed and there was a diamond piercing winking from the side of her nose that hadn't been there at eighteen. Her breasts had developed further and her waist had tapered. She'd gone from every teen's wet dream to every man's dream woman.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

My gruff voice startled us both. Rainey's eyes flew open and her hips ground to a halt. Her arms slowly drifted down to her sides, the soft smile on her face fading into a familiar scowl. I'd seen that final expression in my dreams for years after she'd left town, wondering if I'd done everything I could to stop her. If I should have done more. If I should have ignored Gertie's advice and gone after her.

"I'm sorry. Is Blueball no longer a free country?" she snapped, hands going to her hips. Her cheeks heated and her baby-blue eyes flashed.

Ah. Some things hadn't changed. Rainey still had a backbone and no filter on her mouth. She was fuckin' stunning, and I hated myself for even thinking it.

"It's a free town, but there's no room here for people who ditch it for twelve years without a forwarding address."

Rainey folded her arms across her chest and I gave my eyeballs exactly half a second to take in the breasts that were straining against her simple black tank top.

"I didn't realize they made you the people police since I left." Rainey lifted a single eyebrow before spinning on her sandals and marching off the dance floor.

The back of her head was a familiar sight. Still fuckin' hurt though. "Typical. Rainey walking away," I muttered, just loud enough for her to hear me.

She spun around, now walking backwards, but still away from me. With a defiant lift of her nose, she shot me two middle fingers.

Well, now that was kind of funny. The corner of my lips itched to smile, a ghost feeling from twelve years ago. "Also typical."

She rolled her eyes, but just before she turned back around, I caught the beginnings of a smile on her face too. Didn't stop her from walking away from me though. Again. I lost her in the crowd, and while more than half of me wanted to go find her, the one smart brain cell I had left that wasn't under her spell, yelled at me to stay put.

I stared at the last spot I'd seen her, already wondering if I'd imagined the whole thing. Lifting the bottle of piss water, I wondered if maybe the bartender had spiked it with something. Surely I wasn't the only one who saw Rainey just now, right? I was going to be real pissed if I'd lost my mind this young.

The crowd parted just enough for me to catch a flash of long straight blonde hair. Someone walked across and cut my line of sight for a second and then they were gone, leaving me a pocket of space to see I hadn't lost my mind just yet. Rainey had her hand on some douchebag's elbow, pulling him away from the jam session. The pale fellow looked like he worked behind a computer somewhere but played with a hacky sack in his free time in order to feel young and relevant.

Marlo, one of Paisley's friends, came barreling into my side, her hands gripping my bicep like she thought I was going to start a fight or something. There was only one person who deserved to be punched in the face and that person was me.

"Of course she has some poor guy with her. Probably gonna break his heart too," I muttered.

"Follow me," Marlo said, dragging me over to the bartender and buying two more bottles of piss water. She handed me one and I drank it down in one long gulp. Then I took the other one and drained that one too.

"Friends don't let friends drink alone."

I pulled my gaze from the crowd where I'd been staring at nothing. Vander, Marlo's boyfriend, had two more beers in his hand and a look of pity I fuckin' hated. Everyone in Blueball had given me that look for a full six months after Rainey left.

"Prepare to get wasted, then, my friend." I grabbed a beer out of his hand and gulped it down. At this rate, I'd have to pee before I got drunk enough to forget that Rainey was back in town.

Marlo held her hand out, looking at me like an irritated school teacher. Belatedly, I realized she'd asked for my keys. I thought that was a little overkill—who gets drunk on light beer?—but I gave them to her anyway. Which ended up being a good thing because not long after, Gannon, Lincoln, and Boston ditched the stage and came over too.

"Time to hit the mobile mancave," Gannon said, clapping me on the shoulder.

The five of us left the jam session in the hands of Paisley with her own playlist pumping through the speakers. As each step brought us further into the dark and quiet of the night, my shoulders relaxed. I had no idea what the mobile mancave was, but anything was better than loud music, obnoxious people, and light beer. And possibly bumping into Rainey.

Lincoln pulled keys out of his pocket when we approached a tiny trailer from the fifties that had been painted a navy blue. The Blueballer softball team logo was front and center, painted in white with two round and fuzzy light blue balls hanging from the plant.

"Still think we should petition a better logo," I said, willing to talk about any mundane topic to get my mind off Rainey. I was the official pitcher for our town softball team, but the logo had always bothered me.

"We need something badass. Like a puma. Or a cheetah!" Gannon agreed with me.

Lincoln unlocked the trailer and flipped on the lights. The inside was better than the outside of the trailer. Just long leather couches lining the sides, a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, and an oversized refrigerator. Boston opened the appliance and my night got a whole lot better. Nothing but lagers and IPAs in that fridge. Not one fuckin' light beer in sight.

"Praise Jesus," I muttered, stepping up into the trailer and grabbing two beers, one for each fist before taking a seat. The guys all grabbed beers and someone flipped on the television to a hockey game. We drank in companionable silence, chatting here and there about nothing and everything.

I got to that point of inebriation where you soften up to the level of a heated marshmallow before I opened my mouth. "Thanks for drinkin' with me, boys."

Vander lifted his beer in the air, a little unsteady even though he was sitting down. "True friendship is when we can be opposite directions but still drink together."

Boston grunted. Lincoln started giggling like a preschooler. Gannon just looked at Vander like he'd lost his fuckin' mind.

"What the hell, man?"

Vander waved his hand through the air. "You know what I mean."

Gannon shook his head. "No, I really don't." Then he turned his perceptive gaze my way. I wasn't too drunk to realize I was about to get the shakedown. "What's the story with you and Rainey? None of us grew up here, so we don't know what's happening."

I let my head drop to the couch cushion behind me and let out a groan. There was no use fighting it. They'd either get the story from me or from someone else gossiping about me. I'd rather they get my version.

"Rainey moved here before freshman year after her dad died. She didn't tell me much about him but I got the sense he was an asshole. She was impulsive and reckless, but so damn happy. You'd smile just being next to her, you know?"

Gannon was intently studying me. Lincoln was smiling in encouragement. Boston looked like he understood but didn't want to interrupt. Vander had the flashlight on his phone on so he could make bunny shapes on the wall with his fingers.

"We became best friends, doing everything together. I fell head over ass for her and figured she felt the same way."

"Oh shit," Gannon muttered.

"Shit is right." I pointed my can of beer at him. "I was going to tell her after graduation. Had a promise ring I'd saved for and everything. But she chose that night to climb on the back of some guy's Harley and ride out of town. Never saw her again. Until tonight."

"Damn, that's cold." Lincoln whistled.

Boston just shook his head. "We should switch to whiskey."

Vander jumped up and nearly cracked his head on the curved wall of the trailer before righting himself and reaching for the short cabinet over the fridge.

"I'll stick to beer. I got a baby at home," Gannon said.

"Yeah, me too. Keva would kill me if I slept here tonight and left her with our kiddos. Saturday is her one day a week to sleep in." Lincoln shot me an apologetic look.

"Totally understand," I said, even though I had zero knowledge of what it took to raise a baby. Let alone two.

"I'll have some whiskey," Boston piped up. I fist-bumped him and then accepted the glass Vander handed me. Vander kept pouring and I kept throwing them back, each doing what had taken me twelve years of manual labor to accomplish.

I didn't remember a whole lot more from that night, but I do remember waking up the next morning with a pounding headache. My arm was numb where Vander was sleeping on it, cuddled up to it like my arm was his personal binky. Boston's T-shirt was wrapped around Vander's head like he'd auditioned for the part of Rambo at some point that night. My own shirt was balled up under Boston's head while he slept on the floor. My mouth felt like I'd spent the night sucking on a cotton ball.

Pulling my arm from under Vander, I grabbed my shirt and snuck out of the trailer, wincing at the bright morning sun. The trees swayed and I wasn't sure if that was due to a slight breeze or my own dehydration kicking in. If my heart weren't still in such turmoil over seeing Rainey, I might have appreciated the guys sticking with me last night even more. As it was, I faced the day with both dread and the world's worst hangover.

I decided to suck it up and walk home. I would feed the dog, check my mail, and get busy on a project around the house. And if Rainey and her reason for being back in Blueball kept pinging through my brain, I wouldn't let on.