Page 134 of The Only Thing That's Real
Even though his voice is hushed and nobody can hear what is being said, my face burns with humiliation and anger.
“Don’t you dare.” Ry points her finger in his face. “Knox McKinnon is more of a man than you could ever dream of being. Don’t let me hear you disparage his name again. I may have let you shit on me my entire life, but he’s off-limits.” Linking arms with me on one side and her sister on the other she throws a goodnight over her shoulder as the three of us walk away from the bitter old man drinking alone on a weeknight.
I’m proud of her for standing up to him, but I wish it had been to protect herself and not me. Not gonna lie. I loved how fiercely she defended me.
Instead of getting a booth, we saddle up to the bar so we can chat with Angus while he works. He’s busy with other customers, but he does a double take when he spots me. The beer he’s pouring overflows, soaking his hand, but he’s too focused on me to notice. Our incident at the other end of thebar distracted me, and I’d forgotten all about my hair. Or lack thereof.
Daisy arrives just as our butts hit our stools. After several seconds of opened mouth shock, her response to my new look is anything but subtle. Daisy rarely is.
“What in the world have you done?” She lifts my baseball cap off my head, rubbing her hand over my newly shorn locks. “Holy shit, Knox. Your hair. It’s like... gone.”
“No shit?”
“But why?”
“Why not?”
I want to enjoy being out with everyone. Getting deep about why I needed the change isn’t going to happen.
“Ryan, did he tell you he was doing this?”
“Yep, when he handed me the clippers and asked me to shave it all off.”
“No!” she yells at Ryan before turning on me. “You made her shave your head?!” She smacks me in the chest, then shoves my hat back on my head. “If women around the world find out she did this, her life will be in danger.”
Shit. She’s making me feel like Quasimodo or something.
“Overreact, much?”
“Sorry, I probably should have led with telling you it looks good, but I was taken by surprise.”
“You don’t have to lie and say you like it.”
Ryan grabs my hand. “You couldn’t look bad if you tried.”
“You only say that because you love me,” I say before kissing her without caring who sees or hears me.
“Gross! We’re all sitting right here!” Rebecca yells, pretending to gag.
Daisy rolls her eyes. “So gross. But unfortunately, lovergirl is right.” She climbs up on her stool. “Do you know how irritating it is to have three older brothers and not an ugly one in the bunch?”
“Aw, Clover. You’re still the prettiest McKinnon there ever was,” Owen says, crowding in behind her.
Theatrically, she rests her head on the bar. “And now Swift is here. Make it stop!”
“Good to see you too, Dais.”
“Whatever.” Head still down, she waves a hand in the air.
Ryan and I narrow our eyes at each other. We don’t need to say a word. We’re both wondering what’s going on between Cal’s best friend and my baby sister, but that’s a topic for another time and place.
Once the shock of my haircut has worn off, we order beers and burgers. I don’t know if it’s the hair, the hat, or the company, but nobody interrupts us for a picture, and I don’t look over my shoulder once. It’s nice.
However, there are still interruptions and prying eyes, but they’re not for me. All the attention is directed at Ry. It seems everyone knows her. Everyone misses her and every man who doesn’t know her wishes they did. She’s on and off her stool to give hugs and socialize with people she doesn’t see often enough. Several ask if she’d ever move back permanently, and with a coy look my way she says she’s thinking about it. And that’s all I can ask for.
The rest of the night is perfect. Daisy, Ryan, Rebecca, and, well... Owen, do all the line dances and she outshines everyone else on the floor. Her auburn curls a halo around her head, the smile on her face never fading. We slow dance. We two-step. We jump up and down to The Killers.
At some point, Angus turns the bar over to his managerLaurie to join us outside. While everyone else plays cornhole under the stars of our small town, my brother and I sit and talk about Sawyer. At first it’s awkward, but once we get going, it’s one of the best conversations we’ve ever had. I ask every question I can come up with, and he answers them to the best of his ability. He tells me his likes and dislikes and shares stories. When I ask if he thinks Mia’s ready to discuss visitation or custody or whatever it is we’ll share, he says she’s just waiting for my call.
