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He rests his thumbs in his holster belt. Tattoos and tan skin peek out from under his dark sleeves. “I’m stuck here to make sure your sorry ass doesn’t get mauled. Must be tough being a pretty boy now.”
His deep chuckle spurs laughter from me because anyone else and I’d probably haul off and hit him, but not Brooks.
I put my hand between us. “It’s been a long time.”
His hand wraps around mine since we’re practically the same size. “Well, you never came back.”
We shake hands, and I pocket my hands in my jeans. “I’ve been back a few times.”
I try not to wince at the memory of returning during one Christmas break in college. I’d be lying if I said she hasn’t been floating around in my mind more and more lately, knowing I was returning.
“I can still read you like a book.” He nods his head to start walking, and I step in line with him. Thankfully, we’re not in the thick of Willowbrook residents just yet, so I can catch up with my old friend.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but Jesus, Watson, a damn parade?”
“Cry me a fucking river. You’re king for a day. They’ll probably declare today to be Ben Noughton Day.” He laughs again, and I’m thankful there’s no resentment in his voice.
When I first got accepted to Clemson on a full-ride scholarship, a few of my teammates were upset, wanting their shot. Brooks always stuck up for me, and how did I repay him? By not keeping in touch all these years. Great friend I am.
He puts out his arms when a group of boys try to approach me. “Give Mr. Noughton some space. He’s got to go sit on his throne. Autographs afterward.”
The boys stare slack-jawed at me, and I shoot them an apologetic smile.
I shake my head. “Hell, Brooks.”
“I have to take my job seriously. Protecting Willowbrook’s golden boy isn’t for the weak.”
“Can we cut the crap?”
We end up at a float with a chair that does indeed look like a throne. My dad is huddled nearby with his friends, a huge smile on his face, while Emmett’s showing off his dimples to three women. Jude is nowhere to be seen.
“This has to be a joke,” I mumble.
“Your chariot awaits.” Brooks smacks me on the back.
His booming voice and laughter grab everyone’s attention, and the clapping starts, followed by the whistles and hollers and screams.
I can only imagine how red my face is, and it’s not because of the sun beating down on me.
“Climb up, son.” Dad raises his arm, pointing the way.
Emmett pumps his fist and chants “Ben” over and over. Sure enough, the crowd follows suit, and I have no choice but to climb onto the damn float.
I step onto the wobbly trailer frame, the same one that’s used to announce the homecoming king and queen. The same one I’ve sat on before for that exact purpose, except Gillian was in the chair right next to me. For a second, I’m there again. Her shooting me her soft smile that made my heart soar. Me reassuring her I’d never let her get hurt. I sure broke my promise on that one.
When I sit in the chair, the few people in charge stare at me with accomplished, proud smiles. The truck pulls my trailer behind the marching band playing the high school fight song, heading toward the parade route I know by heart. My eyes look around downtown Willowbrook, with memories at every corner. Right before we hit the crowds, hairs stand up on my arms, and I glance to my left.
She’s standing between two trucks in a parking lot. Our eyes catch for the briefest of moments. Her blue eyes capture my complete attention and I lift my arm to wave, but she strips her gaze from mine, turning and disappearing through the parking lot of trucks.
My suspicions were right—this town isn’t big enough for the both of us. She can run today, but one day we’re going to have to face one another.
Chapter Two
Gillian
I slide through the back door, slowly shutting it behind me.
“You just couldn’t listen to me, huh?”
