Josie
I’ve never had such mixed feelings to see my best friend before. Harry leans on his horn as he drives up the dirt track to the Barns, waving one arm out of his open truck window, and I force a smile and wave a bandaged hand back. He must have left before dawn to get here already, and I should be glad for the extra minutes with him, but a terrible part of me is bitter about losing that alone time with his uncle.
Some best friend I am.
I should be ashamed. I am so ashamed.
The hand-carved wooden bench I curled up on this morning creaks as I push to my feet. I set my borrowed paperback down, the pages fluttering in the breeze, and set off across the dried grass to meet Harry.
We haven’t seen each other for months, but we text or call every day. And I’ve been lying to him for a long time now, telling him that everything’s fine; that I’m living the life we always dreamed of for me, and proving everyone wrong like I planned.
Yup.
This is a humbling reunion, that’s for sure. I never should have lied at all, but I didn’t want Harry to worry.
And I was embarrassed. I can admit that. Because Harry was my biggest believer, my most consistent cheerleader all through my life, and I hate to let him down.
“Damn, Josie!” My best friend springs out of the truck cab, always so full of energy. He’s grinning wide, but his eyebrows pinch together when he sees my bandaged hands. “What happened there? Did Ev put you to work?”
I stiffen. Harry’s teasing, but I don’t want any blame for this laid at his uncle’s door.
“It’s self-inflicted,” I tell him as he sweeps me into a bear hug, squeezing tight as he lifts me off the grass and spins me around.
And—okay. Enough nonsense. I’m really freaking glad to see him. I wrap my arms around Harry’s neck and squeeze back, laughing and chatting about his drive.
But when my feet hit the ground again, I catch sight of Everett’s face over Harry’s shoulder as he emerges from his workshop. His jaw is harder than granite.
“Oh. Um.” I skitter back and put space between us, guilt crawling up my throat, even though we weren’t doing anything wrong. I feel caught out. My clumsy hands flutter in front of my stomach.
“Harry,” Everett says quietly, and then the two of them hug too, doing that man thing with angled bodies and sharp claps on the shoulder. Grr. Manly men.
Everett’s eyes watch me the whole time, but he doesn’t seem angry. He’s solemn. “It’s good that you’re here,” he tells his nephew, and I hate his double meaning, his message only for me.
We can’t cross any lines.
We’re being watched.
But what might have happened if we had one more night alone here together?
That question digs at me as I trail the men inside, my flip flops slapping against my heels since I couldn’t tie my shoelaces this morning. I chose a loose blue sundress, too, something I could shrug on and off without help, though it means I couldn’t wrangle a bra.
The cool air of Everett’s kitchen reminds me why that was a bad idea. I fold my arms over my chest and lean against the counter as Harry collapses into a chair at the table.
“So.” My best friend fixes me with a faux-stern look. “We gonna talk about your surprise visit, Josie?”
Mugs clink as Everett busies himself making coffees. His shoulder blades shift beneath his red flannel shirt, and there’s already a fine layer of sawdust on his shoulders. It’s like he kicks up a big cloud of it as he works, then lets it settle over him like fine rain.
“Sure.” I force my gaze back to Harry. “Later, okay?”
There’s a pause, then a nod. Hazel eyes flick between Everett and I.
They have the same eyes, these two. The same beautiful mix of green and brown, with flecks of gold. The same thick dark hair, too, though Harry is clean shaven, and his face is narrower than his uncle’s, his cheekbones sharper. Less weathered, too.
“Well,” Harry says after a long stretch of silence. The tension is so thick in here, you could chew on it. “I hope you’ve got at least a few embarrassing confessions since I saw you last, Josie, because I’ve got some doozies for you. Have I told you yet about getting locked out of my place during a fire alarm in nothing but a towel?”
Everett snorts over the counter, coffee spoon clinking against china.
And just like that, the tension is broken. I melt back against the counter, and I hadn’t even realized how rigid I’d been.