Page 3 of Small Town Boy

“One of my best guy friends is up in Atlanta today. So, I texted him. He hasn’t texted back yet, but I’m confident he’ll agree. I mean, he doesn’t have a choice, so…there’s that. I have no idea on the timeline, so find a bar, pop a squat, and have a drink. It’ll be faster than me coming to get you, though, and certainly faster than waiting on Gus.”

“Willa, thank you. I was starting to think I might need to start walking.”

“No need! Although, I will warn you, the man picking you up is not the world’s best conversationalist. Loyal, steady, and fiercely protective. But…more the strong, silent type, if you will.”

I let her description settle in, wondering just who is going to be picking me up. For a split second I wonder if I need to worry. Then again, Willa said he’s one of her best friends. So if she trusts him, then strong, silent type it is.

“That’s fine. I’m more than happy to ride in silence.”

“You might change your mind after three hours of it. I’ll let you go so I can hound him for when he’ll be there and then text you the details. Cool?”

“Sounds like a plan. Thank you again, Willa.”

“Think nothing of it.”

I hang up and do as she suggested, finding the closest bar. Relief washes over me as I sit, all the panic from earlier melting away. It’ll melt away even more once I get a fresh Diet Coke.

Here’s to the start of my new life.

2

NOEL

Ah, the sun.

The beautifully bright orb greets me—maybe a little too enthusiastically—as I walk outside, thankful for the chance to finally stretch my legs. It’s been a long day of sitting in continuing education classes. Necessary, but long. And dark.

There are only so many OSHA regulations a person can take in a single sitting before their mind goes numb. Pretty sure I reached that point about three hours ago.

It’s a warm day, especially for mid-September, the heat radiating back at me off the asphalt. I love it though. The humidity is down, there’s not a cloud in the sky, and trees are still a lush green, having not started to turn quite yet. Fall is here, and pretty soon those leaves will be on the ground. But today, it’s still perfect.

I stop at a large live oak that is right at the corner of the parking lot, taking a moment to admire it. Damn, it’s a beautiful tree.

I’m aware it’s a little weird thinking that about a tree, but taking one look at it, that’s all I can think. Plants are my life and have been in one way or another since I was born. My love of growing things only barely outranks my love of working with my hands.

Running my hands along the bark, I savor the roughness, allowing myself to get lost in how majestic it looks. All alone in this spot, its long limbs providing plenty of shade, it’s almost wasted on this college campus, adjacent to a parking lot.

Okay, maybe I’m a lot weird for how I look at trees.

My phone buzzing in my pocket breaks my reverie, and I let out a huff. I’ve had a damn good excuse to ignore it all day. Didn’t even bother to check it during my lunch break. I’m not one who feels the need to have it glued to me at all times—unlike my twin, Nash—but it’s a necessary evil when you run your own business and help your parents run theirs.

I glance down at the screen, hoping that it’s a call being forwarded from the Keller Landscaping line and that I can simply let it go to voicemail. Instead, I see Willa Hayes’s face flash across the screen, her bright blue eyes wide as she sticks her tongue out at the camera. If one didn’t know any better, based on that photo alone, you’d never know she was a former Miss Georgia.

I decline the call, letting her go to voicemail. I’m sure she’s calling because Nash did something that annoyed her, and she thinks that I’m going to put him in his place on her behalf. Never mind all the times I’ve told them both that I refuse to get in the middle of whatever nonsense they have going on.

I want nothing to do with their frenemies battle.

In fact, I’m all in favor of locking them in a room and waiting to see whether one kills the other or they end up fucking it out of their systems, like Willa’s two best friends Kenzie Noble and Sylvie Forde keep suggesting. Not that I’ll admit to that either.

When my phone returns to the lock screen, my eyes go wide as all the activity registers. A dozen texts and fifteen missed calls. All from Willa.

Oh shit.

I unlock my phone to call her back, starting to wonder if maybe she did actually kill my brother—and whether or not he deserved it—when she calls back. Sucking in a breath and preparing for God knows what, I answer.

“Willa.”

“Noel, where the hell have you been? Why haven’t you been answering?”