Page 11 of The Second Dance
I square my shoulders. “Whatever stupid shit went down in high school has to stay in the past. There’s a lot riding on this project. I can’t fuck it up.”
Whit nods. “So, how are you going to face him?”
I sigh. “Dark sunglasses?”
She laughs. “A hat with a very low brim?”
“Yes. You’re onto something.” I push off the stool. “Hold that thought. I’ve had to pee since I got here.”
It’s nice having a friend like Whit. We grew apart after high school. She went to a local community college, and I moved to Lincoln. But whenever I come back, we pick up right where we left off.
She’s letting me live with her while I work on the Warton project, which is a major boon. Not a lot of short-term rental properties in Thorne county.
I can put up with crappy clients, so long as I have my buddy to decompress with. She’s going to make it manageable.
That was the hope, anyway. But when I return to the bar, I slow down and freeze mid-stride.
Somehow, in the time it took me to use the bathroom, Whit has found herself in the middle of a Silver Bend high school reunion. She has not one, but four members of the football team to her left. They’re more or less ignoring her. That’s high school all over again. Those golden boys didn’t have much time for a couple of band nerds.
They’re all ignoring us except for one person. He’s got his dark eyes pinned on me.
Bo fucking Thomas.
“God damn it.” I mutter, charting a circuitous path back Whit’s side.
She leans close. “I think you summoned them.”
“I’m cursed.” I whisper back.
Dusty Larson follows Bo’s pointed gaze, spotting me. I can feel it. Like a blast of heat. “Andy Reed. Holy shit.”
All four boys are looking at us now. Dusty pushes off his stool, ambling closer with the confidence of the heartbreakingly beautiful. “I haven’t seen you since high school graduation.” He leans on the bar next to me. “You look good, girl.”
“Okay.” I say slowly, gaze flicking over to Bo’s before returning to Dusty’s. Those pretty blue eyes were infamous back in school. The girls couldn’t get enough of them. But I always preferred brown.
Skyler and Josh wander closer, forming a little wall around Whit and me. Bo has no choice but to join his buddies.
“You girls drinking alone?” Dusty asks.
“We should get a table.” Skyler says. He was always the gentle one. The trustworthy one.
The one Whit was madly in love with. She melts under his soft gaze and follows him like a puppy to one of the big tables at the back.
“Traitor.” I mutter under my breath.
Bo lingers at my side, leaning down so that his voice rumbles down my spine. “Are you stalking me now?”
“You wish.” I growl, pushing roughly past him.
I keep my chin up, choosing a seat by itself.
Whit was always telling me I needed to lighten up. That the guys just liked to tease.
At one point, I was naïve enough to mistake that teasing for flirting. But Whit set me straight on that accord. It was a humiliating conversation, but I’m glad she cared enough to say something.
Before I embarrassed myself.
7.