Annaleise rolls her eyes. “Beer’s this way!” She leads us toward the back left corner of the house, where there’s a keg against a window, manned by two wildland firefighter lieutenants I’ve worked with countless times.
Thompson could pass for a lumberjack with his burly build and bushy blonde mustache. He does a double take when he sees me. “Rumsey? No fucking way!” He breaks from pumping the keg like he’s going to hug me, but he must see my flinch because he quickly changes course and offers me a fist bump instead.
Then he sees Meg. The hungry look he gives her sends heat splashing across my chest.
Fuck this was a bad idea.
I lean a little closer to Thompson and his buddy, Owens, so I can introduce Meg without shouting.
“What’s with the crutches?” Owens asks while filling a beer for a girl with giant hoop earrings and a dress so short there’s no way she hasn’t already flashed half the guys in this room just standing still.
Is this what it’s like to feel old?
“Snake bite,” Meg replies, taking the beer Thompson poured for her.
His eyes go wide. “Rattlesnake?”
“Yep.” Meg leans into her crutches for balance and sips from her beer.
“They’re ornery in the early season,” Owens adds, his gaze lingering on the woman with the short dress for a lengthy beat. She gives him an alluring quirk of her brow before spinning away.
Meg gives the guys and Annaleise the briefest retelling. They hang on her every word withoohsand wide eyes.
When Meg wraps up with the ambulance ride, Thompson shoots me a questioning glance. Bro code translation:is this little cutie yours and if not, Ima gonna pounce.
“There’s beer pong in the game room and a bonfire in the back yard,” Annaleise says.
Thank fuck.
“You promised to play doubles,” Meg says to Annaleise, then glances up at me.
Even in this loud room swirling with shiny things, Meg’s the prettiest thing here. “Is that a challenge?” I arch an eyebrow.
I had planned to make my way outside as soon as I knew Meg was set up with her friends, but now…I’m not letting Meg out of my sight. Especially around these two hound dogs.
Meg finishes off her beer. “Prepare to get your ass kicked.”
Three games later, Thompson and I have lost two out of three to Meg and Annaleise. Had I known that Annaleise played college volleyball, I would have brought my A-game. Secretly though, Iliked watching Meg win. After what I’ve put her through, she deserves at least that.
When Thompson challenges Meg to a singles match, Annaleise asks for my help carrying a case of beer from the garage. I’m reluctant to leave the game, but Annaleise grabs me by the elbow. “She’s safe for five minutes, promise.”
On the way to the basement, I spot Trina and Stacy over by the pool table with a group of guys. I do a lightning-fast sweep of the room but the pilots aren’t here. I’m still stumped—this is not Trina’s usual crowd.
Why after not seeing her for years am I seeing her everywhere?
Trina glances in my direction, but before our eyes can connect, I turn away and follow Annaleise. I’m not about to give Trina any encouragement. Fifteen years ago, she tried to blow up my life, and I’ll be damned if I let it happen again.
The garage door closes behind me, drowning out the noise from the party. I follow Annaleise to a workbench and the stack of beer cases.
“What’s going on with you and Meg?” Annaleise asks as I slip two cases from the top of the stack.
I glance at her over my shoulder. “Uh, we’re neighbors?”
She puts a hand on her hip. “I asked around. You don’t have the best reputation.”
Tension knits through my shoulders. “If you mean reputation for a good time, you’re wrong. I’m pretty damn good at it.”
Her eyebrow arches up. “It looks like you might actually care about her, so I’ll say this nicely. Be honest with her. Don’t advertise yourself for a role you don’t plan to satisfy.”
