He nods.
“We can go.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Are you having a good time?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s stay.”
Annaleise thankfully finds me a stool and parks it near the food table, then introduces me to more of her friends, plus Charlotte and Morgan Hannah from Boxcar Doves, here to play a set later. I tell the rattlesnake story a few more times. Linden is never more than five feet away from me. He seems to know a lot of people here—but I guess that makes sense since he grew up in Finn River. Plus he’s a firefighter, which in a small town like this probably gives him minor celebrity status.
So why do they all act surprised to see him tonight?
A little later when Annaleise and I take a trip to the bathroom, I realize my fun tickets are running out. My armpits ache, my leg is angry, and the noise level is starting to feel oppressive instead ofinviting. It’s been a fun night and I’m glad I came, but it’s time for a victory lap and a trip to the door.
Inside the bathroom, with the noise muted, I lean back against the counter and release a deep sigh.
“Worn out yet?” Annaleise asks on her way to the toilet.
“Getting there,” I say while she pees.
“How much longer are you staying at Linden’s?”
“He’s back on shift tomorrow, so I was going to go back tonight.” Though we didn’t move back any of my things. Linden went for a run and I had a nap, and then he made me dinner. Again. Tonight it was barbecued ribs, homemade coleslaw, and skillet cornbread.
I’ll add tongue.I don’t know how to reconcile what I know about Linden with this version of him. Have these past months of Feuding Neighbors been some kind of foreplay? Have I been so busy throwing my anger at him that I missed how hot he looks in a pair of Levi’s or the sincerity in his intelligent eyes when he smiles?
Annaleise flushes, and we swap places. “Need help?”
I shake my head. After a couple days on crutches, I’ve got it wired. “Who was that guy that came in when we went back to the keg?”
Annaleise glances up from the sink where she’s washing her hands. “What guy?”
“The one who locked eyes with Linden.” I describe what I remember. Tall, blue eyes, with a scar on his cheek.
She dries her hands on a towel. “A firefighter, I think? I don’t know him.”
I flush and brace off the seat to stand then gather my crutches.
“Linden’s never come to this party before,” she says while I swing to the sink.
“He sleeps outside,” I blurt.
Annaleise gives me a curious frown. “Why?”
“He says it’s to watch the stars.”
Her eyes narrow. “Is that the only reason?”
I turn off the tap and Annaleise hands me the towel. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe it’s to keep from wandering into a certain guest room.”
I scoff. “It’s not?—”
“—like that?” She crosses her arms. “Yeah, you said that already.”
“Quinn thinks I should?—”
