Page 10 of More Than My Hometown

“Seriously,” Em whispers, her tone a lot softer this time. “Why are you being such a fraidy-cat?”

“Because.”

“Because why?” she pushes.

“You know why.”

She doesn’t. Not really. No one does.

No one except Maisey.

I’ve never fully admitted to anyone that I pushed her away. Or worse—that I’m the reason she hasn’t come back to town since she packed up after college. Something that I know has left many members of this community heartbroken—myself included.

“Because you were a dumb boy who let the girl he was secretly in love with leave town without admitting his feelings for her because he was too chickenshit to open up and put his heart on the line? And you’ve been kicking yourself ever since because you should have just told her that you not only loved her then but that you still love her now?”

My mouth drops open, as if it completely unhinges, and I stare at her, in total awe. There’s a little more to it than that—okay, a lot more—but fuck me, she nailed it. I’ve never felt so called out in my life. And I have five older brothers and a spitfire younger sister.

I pull Emily closer, sucking in a deep breath, trying to find the right way to respond.

“How’d you…?”

“It’s written alllll over you, buddy. Always has been, since we were kids. Same way as Hux’s devotion to Dolly was. You Hayes boys aren’t as hard to read as you think you are.”

Right. Good to know.

“Which is how I know you’re all messy inside right now, aren’t you?”

“That’s one word for it,” I grumble, looking over her head, taking in the other couples on the dance floor.

Every one of my brothers is out here, holding their women tight. Even Jace found a partner in Michelle, the eight-year-old daughter of one of Dolly’s cousins. And then there are my parents, nuzzled together like they’re the newlyweds and not going on forty-plus years of marriage. All while I’m holding a girl who I only have platonic feelings for. A girl who is currently calling me out about my feelings about another one.

Yeah, messy is a good word for it.

“Ewan, listen to me,” Em says, looking up at me. Her blue eyes shine, reminding me of Maisey’s, sending a pang through me. “As your friend, I promise you, she is not here for this wedding. Well, not just here for this wedding. She is here for you. Talk to her.”

If only it were that easy. If it were, I’d have called her—years ago. Hell, I’d have picked up the phone at any point over the last decade. Not to mention, where’s she been? It’s not like I was ignoring all her calls. Of course, after what I said, I wouldn’t have called me either.

Still, why now? After all this time, after everything I said, why now?

“It’s not that simple, Em.”

Emily scrunches her face. “Maybe. Maybe not. But, we won’t know until you try…”

The song starts to fade, and she starts to pull back, but she holds on to my gaze, letting me know she’s not going anywhere. That this conversation isn’t over.

“And say what exactly?” I challenge, just to be difficult.

“Hi is usually a good opener.”

I stop, a chill running down my spine. The whole world stops, everything around ceasing to exist except the voice that I only hear in my dreams. I’m afraid to move. Afraid that if I do, I’ll discover that this isn’t real. Or worse, it is, and it’ll somehow end worse than it did before.

“H-h-hi,” I choke out. Great, that was smooth…

“Hi, Ewan,” Maisey says, and fuck, if my name on her lips doesn’t sound like the most comforting thing in the world. Like falling into bed after a long day.

“Maisey.”

“This one was a special request,” the DJ says, cutting through the music as the tune changes. With a flick of his wrist, we go from traditional ballad to unmistakable opening of George Strait’s “Check Yes or No.”