Page 16 of Fall Over You

“I know you’ll be up in that beer hall again tonight.”

I chuckle. “You got a problem with it?”

“No. I want you to live big while you can. But don’t stop looking for somebody to live big with.”

My nose stings.

Somebody to live big with. I’ve been through just about every eligible contender in this tiny town.

Well, all but one.

It’s my favorite night of the week: line dancing night at the Legion Hall. Even if I can’t make it to town any other night, I do my best to make it here. I don’t let the fact that my ex is the bartender keep me from having a good time. It’s his fault that he couldn’t get over his own shit enough to love me right.

I thought Stone was my forever. He stood strong when everything fell out between CJ and me. I’d argue that friend breakups hit harder than romantic breakups, because there’s no bond quite like girlhood. Stone got it, and he held me through it all. He did his best to fill in the gaps where I was lonely and I appreciated his attempts. He treated me like a princess and we made a pretty happy life together.

But things were never the same after the night we took home Darcy’s best friend, Brianna. That weekend was a dream, and Stone seemed to be enjoying it too. We’d had other guys in bed with us, but Stone never let the swords cross as it were. He wanted to add a woman to the mix, and I was more than happy to make his dreams come true when Brianna hit the scene. She was new to our social circle, and the conversation about a threesome came together pretty naturally. I figured there was no harm, seeing as we were experienced at threesomes.

Stone couldn’t handle it though. Something about seeing me with another woman made him feel inadequate. I spent the next year trying to prove to him that he was more than enough, that I wasn’t comparing him. When Brianna came back to town the following summer, it was his last straw—and mine. He didn’t want me to even speak to her, and I wasn’t about to treat her poorly just because he regretted his decision.

Tonight, he puts my beer and shot of choice on the bar, just like he always does whenever I’m here on his shift. I silently leave him cash. It’s a dance of mutual respect: we don’t want to talk but we still see and know each other.

I spot Tyler’s dad sitting at the bar, laughing with one of his cronies. I plop a hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze. I lean in between him and his buddy. “I expect no carousing out of you until you fix my truck, Mr. Davis.”

His deep chuckle sounds. “You know what they say, all work and no play.”

I wink at him. “Trust me. I know all about it. You gonna save me a dance tonight?”

He shakes his head and laughs again. “If I can get these old bones out there, they’re all yours.”

I don’t end up having to make good on my promise, because the dance floor is lively enough without Tyler’s dad. A few guys I see on a regular basis ask me to dance, one of whom I’ve gone home with a few times. I came into town thinking I’d like some company tonight, but now in the arms of just that type of person, it doesn’t sound as thrilling. What’s that about?

I put my energy into line dancing. After I’ve done the Watermelon Crawl, scooted my boots, and made sure everybody at the bar was getting tipsy, I step outside for a smoke to cool off. I’m having fun, but Ernest’s words keep ringing in my head.

Somebody to live big with.

My stomach tingles when I peek at the building next door.

The lights are on at Paint Auto and inspiration strikes. I finish my smoke and step into the bathroom, touching up my lip gloss and popping a piece of bubble gum into my mouth.

I smile at myself in the mirror. I’m about to pay Tyler Davis a visit.

NINE

TYLER

It’s late enough that it makes sense to brew a pot of coffee. I barely even drink coffee in the morning. Red Bull seems to keep me going better, but it's definitely more expensive. When I consider that it's a small price to pay for making sure I'm functional all day, I allow myself a little grace.

I'm under the hood of Becca's truck, trying to figure out a way to get her back on the road until the part comes in when I hear the creak of the shop’s old wooden door.

"Knock knock."

Couldn’t mistake that pack-a-day rasp for anyone else. I prop my hands on the rim of her hood, still holding a wrench.

Until I'm not. That thing falls right out of my hand when I catch sight of her.

I knew it was Becca, but I didn't know she'd be showing up like this. Becca's short, but her legs look a mile long in those white cutoff shorts.

In September.