Page 3 of Pretty Little Scars

I always wanted to stay in our home town and take over the ranch from my father, which I’ve done. Zack wanted to be famous.

And he is. Actually, famous is an understatement. I don’t think there’s anyone in the world who wouldn’t recognize him from one of the dozens of movies he’s starred in. From the cologne ads, the award shows, the tabloids. Talk shows. You name it, his face has been on it.

We couldn’t be more different. Maybe that’s why we’re still such good friends. I’m not a yes-man, I don’t blow smoke up his ass, and he knows that when shit gets to be too much, he can always come home for a good heaping dose of reality.

“Welcome in.” Indie, the owner of the ice cream shop, greets us with a smile. Shit, we’ve known her since she was just a kid. Her grandparents opened this shop fifty years ago, and she’s worked here since before she was a teenager. “I think spring has finally sprung out there.”

She tucks her dark hair behind her ear and gives us a smile, her dimples winking at us. To her credit, she doesn’t cry and faint at the sight of my megastar best friend.

It’s happened. I’ve seen it.

“Are Esther and Art around?” Zack asks. “I’d like to say hello.”

Indie doesn’t even flinch. “Oh, they passed away about two years ago.”

I press my lips together. I told him that after it happened, but I’m not surprised that he doesn’t remember. It’s not because he’s an asshole or he doesn’t care. There’s a lot going on in Zack’s head.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry, I hadn’t heard. They had a granddaughter who used to work here. Cute little thing. She liked to pour the sprinkles on my cone.”

Indie grins at him. “Indigo?”

“That’s her.”

“That’sme,” she replies and smiles again. “Hi, Zack. Welcome home.”

Zack stands shell shocked next to me. Indie isn’t the little girl who sat on a stool behind the counter doing homework in between customers anymore. Gone are the braces and glasses and awkward teenage body. She’s grown into a beautiful woman with all her curves and her thick hair, pulled up in a messy bun today.

“Let’s try this again,” Zack says smoothly, shoving his hands in his pockets and giving her a devastating smile. “Hey, Indie, you’re fucking beautiful. I sure am sorry about your grandparents. They were the best. How’s business?”

Indie laughs and brushes her hands down the front of her black apron with the Sundae’s logo on the chest.

“Business is great. I own the shop now, but not much has changed around here. Do you want your usual?”

“You remember my usual?”

Indie taps her temple and winks at him. “I remembereverything. Tuck, do you want your usual too?”

“Yes, please.” I laugh at my friend, who’s watching the pretty brunette as if she’s the most amazing thing he’s ever laid eyes on. “She’s fifteen years younger than you,” I mutter so only he can hear me.

“Fuck off,” he mutters back.

Less than five minutes later, we’re sitting at a table in the empty ice cream shop, and he’s barely taken his eyes off Indigo.

“Do you want me to leave you alone with her?”

“Yes. Go away.”

I snort and scoop up some espresso ice cream. “So, what’s happened that brought you home for a wholeweek? You don’t usually spend that much time here. You must have really fucked up.”

He blows out a breath and scoops up his huckleberry ice cream with sprinkles, takes a bite, and then spins his cup in a circle on the table.

“I didn’t fuck up. I’m just tired, man.”

“Don’t tell me you’re over being famous. Because that would be a lie.”

He doesn’t meet my gaze for a minute, and then he shrugs one shoulder and takes another bite.

“I’m between projects, and I wanted to slow down for a week. LA is sucking the life out of me, one sunny day at a time.”