Page 19 of Small Town Boy

“What?! What?! I swear to God it’s like you are trying to ruin my day.”

“Just an added bonus, Princess.”

He slips into the now empty seat between her and Kenzie, picking up the beer Milo dropped off for him. Like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like he didn’t just crash an event that we long ago swore to leave alone. It was a pact that was made in high school—the girls got their time together, we boys got ours, and whatever happened during that time, stayed there. Like Vegas.

Willa’s eyes go wide and her hands outstretch, fingers curled in, and she makes like she’s going to strangle him. I don’t think there is a single one of us that would stop her right now either.

“Ignoring the fact that Bronwyn is really fucking important to Hayes, and that Gus is so over the moon about finding a marketing person—a young one at that—who was willing to move to rural Georgia that he all but did a dance. Yes, Gus did a little almost jig in his chair when Bronwyn accepted the offer,” Willa spells out for him, talking slowly in her I think you’re stupid voice.

Her oldest brother, who is executive vice president of Hayes and the heir apparent to take over the company when their father, Auggie, retires, is notoriously serious. Willa likes to call him grumpy. So for him to be doing a happy dance, that was a big deal.

“Even ignoring that,” she continues, her pointer finger out and trained on him, “how dare you welcome someone to our town like that? She is brand-new to Hickory Hills, doesn’t know a single person in this state, much less this town. And what do you do? You show up, crashing girls’ night, which I know you know is sacred, and say dumb shit like ‘heard a lot about you.’ Who says that? Can you imagine how she feels?”

“Flattered?”

“Nash!” Kenzie scolds. “I know you aren’t this dumb. What got into you?”

“Which desperate housewife turned you down?” Sylvie follows up.

“For the last time, there are no angry husbands in this town. At least not by my doing,” Nash says.

I shake my head, crossing my arms and standing back, just letting this all play out. Dustin and Camden do the same thing. He dug his grave; he can now lie in it.

“So then, explain yourself,” Kenzie says. “Because we didn’t show up unannounced when y’all were watching the game when you first adopted Camden in the group, so what made you think that’s what you should do tonight?”

She sounds like she’s talking a small child through their bad choices, her voice calm but still rigid. It’s something that only a librarian can do, and Kenzie has never been willing to share whether it comes naturally or if there was some on the job training.

“And for another thing, you other three,” Sylvie adds, her teacher voice making an appearance. “What made you think that you shouldn’t stop it? Hmmmmm?”

All four of us have the good sense to shrink a little. Camden mutters something I can’t hear under his breath, and based on the look Sylvie throws at him, I don’t dare ask him to repeat it. Dustin doesn’t bother to say anything, and I join him in that approach.

Nash squirms on the stool, face scrunched as he starts to make his plea. “Want to know what got into me? Him.” He points to me, the rest of the group turning.

I shrug. “Don’t drag me into this.”

“This one has finally found a girl who ‘cranks his tractor’ and I’m the last one to know about it? I’m literally his other half!”

“We’re fraternal; there were different entities involved,” I correct him, but he’s not paying attention.

“Sure, I probably owe her an apology. But the fact that all y’all were willing to sit back and ignore that Noel Joshua Keller has commented that a woman is ‘cute’…well, y’all should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“So, you do like her,” Kenzie says. The smile spreading across her face is conspiratorial and matches the ones on Sylvie’s.

Oh shit.

“We’re not done talking about you,” Willa sneers under her breath at Nash, poking him. He rolls his eyes.

“Noel?” Sylvie asks.

I swallow hard, trying to figure out if there is a way to not answer this question. Saying I like Bronwyn is a leap. Am I intrigued? Yes. Am I secretly trying to figure out a way to make our paths cross? Yes. Did I jack off in the shower thinking about her, like I’m some thirteen-year-old kid who can’t control himself? Also yes. And speaking of juvenile, the word like is right up there. Is that even the correct word when you’re thirty? No. Probably not.

Interested. That’s the right word. Which means I can deny liking her. There we go. Sometimes I surprise even myself.

“No.”

“But, you’re interested,” Kenzie follows up.

Shit. Leave it to her to boil this down.