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“You can’t blame a girl for asking. If you did, I’d be one pissed chick. Some of my shit was still in there.”
Willow moved into my building after my brother begged her to move from LA to Blue Beech. She refused to stay at his house until they worked their issues out. After moving in with him, she kept her apartment as a storage unit.
“Why are you getting blamed?” she asks. “They catch you with a match in your hand?”
“Ronnie is blaming me for revenge.”
“Ronnie?”
“Old Man Willard’s grandson. He inherited the building when Willard died a few months back.”
“Hold up. Our landlord died?” she chokes out.
“Uh … yes. You didn’t know?”
She frowns while shaking her head. “Damn, I feel bad for not going to the funeral.”
“Don’t. They had it somewhere else. He had no living family in Blue Beech, so his body got shipped to them.”
“That doesn’t sound morbid or anything. So, why does the grandson want revenge?”
“For turning him down when he asked me out.”
“Girlfriend, you need a boyfriend … or at least some dick. Why not take him up on his offer?”
I grimace. “Gross. I’d rather hire someone to give me the business than screw him. Dude is a creep who wears expensive suits, which he tells me the price of every time we run into each other, and polished shoes daily—inBlue Beech. Now, I normally don’t discriminate against people’s fashion choices, given I sport scrubs almost daily, but a man with a big enough complex and ego who has to show off his money is a hard limit for me.”
She nods in understanding. “Hurting a man’s ego can be a dangerous thing.”
That’s no lie.
“Tell me about it. So, because I don’t want to screw his pretentious, suit-wearing ass, he’s trying to make me out to be some pyro.” My upper lip tightens as I roll my eyes. “Trust me, I would’ve made sure I snagged all my cutest shoes had I caught that place on fire. Oh, and my scrubs because those things aren’t cheap.”
She laughs and, for the rest of the ride, she listens to me name off the endless number of items I need to replace.
“You ready to tell me why your car is here?” she asks when pulling into Clayton’s empty parking lot. She parks and presses her hands together in a pleading gesture. “Puh-leeeasetell me you had a one-night stand.”
Now, I know how she felt when I was always nagging her for details about her and my brother. Not fun.
“Nope,” I answer. “You ruined the idea of a one-night stand for me after you got knocked up from having one with my brother. Lord knows, my ass does not need to get pregnant.”
“Eh, I see your point there.” She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth before her lips turn into a bright smile. “Will you at least tell me who took you home?”
My hangover headache maximizes as I slump in my seat. “Gage is back in town.”
She gives me a blank look. “Am I supposed to know who Gage is?”
Willow and I are so close that I forget I haven’t known her my entire life and that she didn’t grow up in Blue Beech. In our small town, I’m known as the lucky girl who dated Gage. And he’s known as the dude who dated me. It’s sad that you’re labeled by your relationship, but it’s the place where sixty percent of the population has married their high school sweetheart.
“He’s my ex-boyfriend and the reason I haven’t had a relationship in years.”
Her mouth falls slightly open as a thought hits her. “I’ve always wondered why you don’t date. You’ve been hung up on him.”
“Negative. I’ve been too busy with my job to be hung up on anyone.”
Her laugh echoes through her car. “Denial only makes it hotter when you have sex again. Trust me, I know from experience.”
I wrinkle my nose and shove her side. “Please refrain from talking about having sex with my brother. It’ll make me puke more than this stupid hangover.”
