“You’ll do it. Lord knows you’ve worked yourself in the ground lately.”
“I like work. It’s the one place that I can make sense out of chaos,” I murmur, as I finish pouring us a drink.
I hand Katie hers and lean on the breakfast bar as she takes a seat on one of the two stools that I have in front of it. My place is kind of small. It’s just a two-bedroom single wide trailer, but the seven acres it sits on and the barn and cellar that’s on the property make me happy. I’m hoping that once I get it paid off, I can do some work on the barn and get some animals. Having horses, chickens, and maybe a dog or two will mean I wouldn’t be comfortable traveling for work anymore, but hopefully by then, the extra money won’t be as necessary.
“I…uh…”
“Oh boy,” I mutter.
“What?” she asks defensively.
“Katie, whenever you stutter like that, it’s because you know whatever you’re about to say is something others won’t like. Since I’m the only other person here, I’m assuming I’m the person who’s not going to like what you have to say.”
“I’m not sure that’s a fair statement,” she gripes.
“Are you about to tell me something that I won’t like?” I prompt, not even bothering to hide my smile.
“Sometimes having a best friend who knows you really well kind of sucks,” she snaps, making me laugh.
“Just get it out already,” I say while giggling at the disgusted look on her face.
“Okay, fine. I called Reed earlier today. He agreed to be Jeff’s best man at the wedding.”
That expression…the one where someone tells the other person that they could have knocked them over with a feather? Right now—in this very moment—I know exactly what they mean. My body feels completely weightless, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. It’s a stupid reaction. It’s not like Katie didn’t warn me what they were going to do. I knew it was coming. Although, if I’m honest, I sort of thought Reed would find a reason to say no. Knowing that I will see him in three weeks—after all this time—makes my heart race and pound against my chest. My palms are sweaty. There’s a roar in my ears from the blood rushing through me.
“Callie? Are you okay with that?”
“Sure. It’s fine. I mean, Reed is a big star these days, Katie. He’s not going to look twice at me,” I laugh, avoiding her eyes. “Besides it’s been years. Our past is exactly that—our past. We’ve both moved on.”
“This is me you’re talking to, you know. I know how much you love Reed.”
“I do love him. I’ll always love him,” I confirm. “Reed and I aren’t the same people anymore—”
“Callie—”
“And that’s a good thing. There are reasons that things didn’t work out for the two of us, Katie.”
Me…I’m the reason.
“Callie,” she sighs. She doesn’t say anything else, but I touch her shoulder gently and hold her gaze with my own.
“I’m fine. Stop being a mother hen. I can’t look back. I’m happy now.”
“You haven’t been on one date.”
“Katie, you don’t survive the life I had with Mitch and want to date. I may never want to date again, and I’m more than okay with that.”
“That doesn’t seem like it’s the kind of life that will make you happy.”
“It does. Now, will you stop worrying about me? When are we going dress shopping?”
“Do you still have this Saturday free?” she asks, and I grin.
“Yeah, I don’t head out until Monday. I’m working in Kansas this week.”
“Then, we’ll go Saturday, and while we’re in the city, I demand we have a spa day.”
“Well, you know I’m a sucker for a good pedicure, but I’ll pay for my own.”
Katie rolls her eyes. “Fine. Now, let’s talk colors. How do you feel about yellow?”
I scrunch up my nose immediately, making Katie cackle. The witch. She knows I hate it. “If you put me in that darn color, I’ll make your life miserable, Katie.”
It takes her a couple of minutes to stop laughing and catch her breath. “Spoil sport.”
I roll my eyes but find myself giggling with her.
I’ve made so many mistakes in my life. Having Katie as my best friend has never been one of those, however.
I’d be lost without her.
CHAPTER 2
Reed
“Trisha, I know how much work it will take,” I exhale, rubbing the back of my neck. The stress I’m under is giving me a huge migraine.
Migraines are nothing new to me. It seems I keep getting them. I grab the prescription bottle from my doctor and a bottle of water. I keep them on my desk. Hell, I keep them everywhere—the bathroom, bedroom, on the tour bus, in the truck. Every-fucking-where.
“You must not, or you wouldn’t be asking me to do it,” she snaps.
“You mean, it must be important, or I wouldn’t ask you to do it.”