Page 58

I almost choked on my beer. “I don’t want one. You go.”

“Nah, Shawna doesn’t like me. She says I’m too young for her. I think she’s still pissed about the frog incident.”

“And what was the frog incident?”

Beau’s lips twitched in amusement. “I put a frog in her sneaker. There was a party at my cousins’ house. I didn’t know whose it was…totally random, man. Case and I waited to see what would happen and sure enough, Shawna shows up, undoes her laces to put her shoe on, and out pops Frank the frog. She jumped a mile high and screamed her lungs out. Case and I were on the floor laughing like hyenas, tears pouring down our cheeks. She didn’t like that. Shawna chased after us and smacked me upside the head with a Converse high-top.”

“Frank the frog?”

“We always named the frogs we caught,” Beau said with a shrug. “That was twenty-five years ago, and I was like…nine. I think it’s time to build a bridge and get over it.”

I snorted, tilting my chin in acknowledgment at someone I sort of recognized who waved. There were a lot of people here, yet the vibe was cozy and welcoming. I could have happily hung out for a while, but I was anxious to get to the game.

I dropped my empty bottle into the recycling bin and punched Beau’s shoulder. “I’m gonna head over there.”

“To the game? Nah, man, it’s too early. You can hear the band from here. They’ll be going strong for another twenty minutes. Get a fuckin’ hot dog and meet some girls and—” Beau squinted suspiciously. “You already met someone.”

“No, it’s not like that.”

Liar. It was absolutely like that, but it wasn’t something I could share.

I supposed I could say I was meeting Reg and explain that we were new buddies. That was true, but Beau would have follow-up questions—You’re friends with the chief? How’d that happen?—and I didn’t trust myself to answer without getting fidgety. The birdhouse excuse didn’t exactly roll off the tongue. However, it wouldn’t seem odd to Beau or the rest of the town if I were to join someone like…Cooper. He was a mill guy, a fellow logger, and our boss. It made sense that he’d invite his new recruit to hang with him at a home game.

So that was what I told Beau, who bought my story without hesitation.

“Oh, sweet. Coop and Silas get the good seats. See you there.”

The band was on the field doing an impressive rendition of “Twist and Shout” as fans filed in carrying tubs of popcorn, nachos, super-sized sodas, along with portable cushions for the hard benches and blankets to keep warm. They probably wouldn’t need the blankets. It was a mild evening with clear skies and a crescent moon sitting atop the copse of nearby evergreens like a Christmas ornament.

The scene was unbelievably wholesome—skipping children, young couples holding hands, and proud parents and students dressed in black-and-gold Hornets colors. A few diehard fans wore ball caps with hornet stingers and wings attached to them too. Hokey for sure, but kind of endearing.

“Waylon! Over here!”

Gretchen waved her arms above her head, her long ponytail swinging like a pendulum. A dark-skinned boy with glasses sat next to her with a textbook in his lap. I gave an up nod in acknowledgment before braving a glance at the row of hunks in the row behind her. Cooper, Silas, Dex, Viggo, and yeah…Reg.

Christ, I felt like a high school freshman entering the sacred domain of the cool senior jocks. This was some updated version of the Friday night games I’d missed in my youth. Instead of teenage me crushing on the quarterback, I was a grown-ass man infatuated with his boss’s best friend. Who, by the way, was hot as hell.

I’d bet Reg had been equally stunning in his high school glory days too. I could just imagine him in uniform, broad-shouldered with a perfect ass, holding his helmet on the sideline, waiting for a whistle, his mind so focused on the upcoming battle on the field that he was completely unaware of his admiring fans.

Reg and his friends were all former football players. Cooper had been the Hornets’ quarterback, his husband, Silas, was an actual NFL star, Dex and Viggo both had played in college for Division I teams. I was an outlier. The guy who’d never fit in with this group.

Honestly, that was something I’d prided myself on. I’d never wanted to be a joiner, a follower, a sycophant. I’d done my own thing, and fuck anyone who disapproved. I hadn’t needed validation from posers with big egos and small dicks.

To a degree, I still felt that way, but I could admit that I’d probably missed out on meeting some genuinely good people by judging too harshly, too quickly.

I caught Reg’s eye as I climbed the bleacher steps.

“You made it.” Reg squeezed my shoulder and turned toward his friends. “I think you know everyone, but⁠—”

“He doesn’t know Amir,” Gretchen piped in, pointing at the bespectacled boy. “He’s my friend from math club.”

“Nice to meet you, Amir.”

Amir pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose and oh-so-gently bumped his fist to my outstretched one. “Thank you. I mean…you, too.”

The rest of the crew greeted me with fist bumps, high fives, and scooted aside to make room for me to sit next to Reg.

We chatted about inconsequential things as the seats filled and the cheerleaders and dance squad took over entertainment duties. Rhys and Chase had each scored a touchdown at their earlier JV game and were now hanging with their buddies somewhere nearby to watch the varsity team. Coop’s daughter, Ivy, was somewhere out there with her friends, too. This was her final year at Wood Hollow High and according to Silas, she was living it up.