That half-smile again.Shehated how it twisted in her chest.
Before she could say something she’d regret—or something she’d want to repeat—her best friendTashacame jogging over, glancing between them.Hereyes full of concern.
“You okay,Rose?”she asked, suspiciously chipper.
“Peachy,”Rosesaid.“We’rejust being polite.AndAcenwas just leaving.”
Acen gaveTashaa nod.“Goodto see you,Tash.”
“You too,” she said carefully.Then, toRose: “Wantme to bring the bats to your truck?”
Rose threwAcenone last glance.“Thatwould be great.”
“That’s a wrap, ladies!”Shesaid to the group crowded into the dugout.“Greatpractice.Getsome rest.You’regonna to need it.”Achorus of groans met that statement.
As she andTashawalked away, summer scorched grass crackling beneath their feet,Tashawhispered under her breath, “Wow.Timehas been good toAcenWheelerfor sure.”
“Unfortunately,”Rosemuttered, hopingTashawould drop the subject.
“Girl.Ifhe were any hotter,I’dneed a permit to look at him in public.”
Rose didn’t smile.Noteven a little.Instead, she threw her bag into the back of the beat-up pickup she’d gotten for a steal of a deal at an auction years ago and had put over a hundred thousand miles on over the years.
“Catch you later at the coffee shop,” she said toTasha.“I’llbe open late tonight for the tourist season.Cindyis probably ready to head home by now.”She’dhiredCindyto take care of the coffee shop when she needed to be at practice and games during the summer.Itworked well for both of them.Cindygot to earn some extra money and mingle with the public andRosegot to be with her beloved ball team.
She ran her hand slowly along the scuffed blue paint of the door of the truck.Thesame color asAcen’seyes.Whisperedher brain.Goodgrief.Pleasedon’t let everything start reminding her of him.Thatwas a distraction she did not need in her life with the regional playoff games about to start.
In their one conversation about the man,Rileyhad told herAcenhad never married.Notthat she cared.Butit threw her off balance in a way that she didn’t like.Andthat today her heart had responded so easily to him after all the silence.Especiallysince their relationship had ended with no explanation.
She’d tried to get something out ofBrianaback then.BackwhenBrianastill deigned to come home for a family visit once a year.ButBrianahad been silent as the tomb.Defensiveand edgy.Understandablesince she’d more or less stolenRose’slongtime boyfriend.
And, just like that, their long-standing friendship had vanished.AlongwithBrianaherself.She’dstopped visiting after a few years.
HadAcenandBrianabeen together in those years of silence?Abig part of her didn’t want to know.Liar, whispered her brain.Shedesperately wanted to understand what had happened all those years ago.Justso she could finally put it all to bed in her head.Sure, that’s why” her traitor brain chimed in.
She climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door--- hard.Toshut up her brain and its smart remarks.
CHAPTERTWO
Acen leaned against the porch railing, sipping sweet tea from a sweating mason jar and wishing it was a beer.Afterthe meeting withRoseearlier he sure could use one.Instead, he took another sip of tea and turned his eyes upward.Thesky had changed to that deepTennesseeindigo, and cicadas buzzed like they’d been waiting twenty years just to welcome him back.Awarm breeze drifted through the yard, carrying the faint scent of honeysuckle and freshly cut grass.Somewheredown the road, a dog barked twice, then gave up, deciding it was too hot for the trouble.
TheWheelerhouse hadn’t changed much over the years that he’d been gone.
The shutters still hung just a bit crooked on the upstairs windows.Hisdad had tried to get the boys to climb up and fix them years ago, but somehow, there had always been something more interesting to do.Somewhereelse they urgently needed to be.
The porch still sagged just a little in the middle, another project they’d never gotten around to fixing, but the joists underneath still held firm.Atestament to old-time builders and quality foundations.Andthere was still that old moss green metal glider swing with a little rust on the corners and creases due to exposure to the elements—the one he and his best friendRileyused to sit on when summer nights stretched long and full of stories and the future seemed bright and shining to the young men they’d been on the verge of becoming.
And withRose, too.Younglove, laughter, stolen kisses.Thebrush of her hair against his cheek when she leaned in, the way she’d laugh into his neck before darting away.Heshrugged the memories away, forcing himself back to the present.
“You talk to her yet?”Rileyasked, stepping out onto the porch with his own mason jar of tea in hand.AttheWheelerhouse everyone was family who served themselves from the bottomless pitcher of sweet tea that was a mainstay in theWheelerrefrigerator.
Acen didn’t answer right away.Stillcaught up a bit in memories of the past.Andthings that once done could never be undone.
“I take it from your silence that she didn’t throw herself into your arms.”
Acen snorted, pushed away from the porch railing.“Shedidn’t throw anything.Thatwas almost more concerning.”
Riley lowered himself into the glider and absently picked at a rusty spot on the arm, eyes on his old friend.“Youdidn’t expect her to still be mad?”
