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“So, you just quit?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, remembering to ask a similar question about her father and his music career. “No, I’ve failed—more than once. But I’ve been sober for a while now. The running helps. I probably should go to meetings, but I just can’t go in there and admit to everyone in the town…” I paused. “No one knows. Except for Billy.”
And you.
And my father—but I kept that dark secret to myself.
Her eyes rounded in understanding, as she took a step forward but stopped. “Will you be okay? Tonight?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it doesn’t bother me. I was never a social drinker anyway.”
Just a lonely drunk.
She looked conflicted, her eyes still on me. “Okay, but one word, and that’s all you have to say. One word that you’re uncomfortable, and we’re out of there.”
My lip curled, and she obviously understood where my mind was going.
“With the alcohol. Not our host!”
Well, damn. So close.
* * *
To Molly’s credit, her food was so good that it almost made the tense atmosphere that settled around the dining room table worth it.
Almost.
In addition to Jake and Molly, Dean—Jake’s best friend—and his wife, Cora, had been invited to tonight’s little social gathering, probably to aid as a buffer between the two of us.
Not sure why anyone thought that would help.
After an equally tense hour of drinks, we’d all moved to the inn’s large dining room, and Molly had brought out enough food for Thanksgiving and Christmas combined. Jake muttered something about her overdoing it, and she shushed him. And then the silence had settled.
So much silence.
I looked around the room, finding a large antique-looking clock above Jake’s stupid head.
Jesus. We’d only been here for an hour.
Longest damn hour of my life.
I ate more potatoes and took a drink of soda, wondering just how long we had to stay after cleaning our plates for it not to be considered rude. Five minutes? Ten?
“Okay,” Marin said, who was seated next to me, “this is crazy. I know I’m not from here, but what the hell?”
You could have heard a pin drop from a mile away as everyone’s eyes darted around the room, waiting for someone to say something.
Finally, Cora snorted into her napkin. “I don’t get it either, but then again, I’m originally from Texas.”
Jake turned to me, and I stared at him, my eyes narrowing.
“Seriously? You guys are ridiculous.” Marin placed a hand on top of mine, making me look down instantly. “Jake”—she turned to him—“Macon had a teensy-weensy crush on Molly, way back when you were kids, but he’s over it now. So, are we good now?”
Jake’s eyes went wild.
“What the hell, Macon?” He turned to me.
“Thanks, Marin,” I said dryly, trying to sound bored as my heart beat wildly from that single touch of her hand. “I think that helped a ton.”
