Page 15

“Hey.” Tanner claps me on the back. “Want to grab beers and a pizza? Kick back?”

Damn, I really am a mess if Tanner’s noticed enough to table pizza and beer on a Tuesday. Tanner is good people. He moved to town after living his whole life in Calgary last year. Dad gave him a job, we went for beers after work once, and we’ve been friends since.

“I’ve got plans tonight.” I’ve been warring with them all day long. “Thanks, man.”

His brows pull together. “You seeing Laura?”

“I told you, that’s done.” I rub my finger and thumb into my brow. “It probably never should have started.”

Just like I shouldn’t start what I’m thinking of starting now.

I really am going to hell.

Tanner studies me. “What’s going on with you, Tate?”

I shake my head, feeling my shoulders fall. “I’ll let you know when I know.”

“Alright.” He claps his hand around the back of his neck, giving it a rub as he drops a heavy sigh. “Well, I’m here.”

“Appreciate that.”

I texted Faye and asked if she’d meet me outside when I left work. Now, parked across the street at Mom and Dad’s house, I ponder knocking on her front door.

She never texted me back, and she didn’t answer when I called. The silence makes me feel half mad. I can’t imagine what Holt is feeling.

I let a curse free as my head rolls against the head rest, eyes drifting for the millionth time to her window. Her purple curtains are pulled over it, and they haven’t moved once. So, if she’s up there trying to hide from me—from reality—then she’s not bothered to check if I’m still here.

I’ve only got so much time before Mom realizes I’m lurking and comes to demand why. Outside, I glare at the hot afternoon sun that threatens to peel the rubber from my work boots as I cross the asphalt to hit the pavers that cut through the grass of her front lawn to her porch.

I should have stopped at home and changed from my work clothes. I would have if I could think of doing anything other than seeing her. Of fixing all her problems.

Oh well. It’s too late to turn back now that I’m standing at her door, fist poised to knock.

I mutter, “What the hell,” and let my knuckles connect.

Candace opens the door. I dip my chin in a nod. “Hi Candy.”

“Tate.” She smiles warmly. “How have you been?”

“Good, you?” The lie feels like ash on my tongue. I think she sees it, because her brows furrow just a bit.

She swings the door wide. “Come inside?”

“I was just hoping to see Faye.” I don’t step inside, gesturing instead to my work boots. “I’ll wait out here.”

Candy’s eyes drop to my boots. “I think she’s sleeping.” Worry weaves into the knit of her brow. “She’s been a bit off since Holt left.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

I nod, shifting to the swing Doug hung for Candy a couple years before. I’ve seen Faye curled on it with a book more times than I’d like to admit. I’ve seen Holt on it with her.

I clear my throat. “I’ll just wait here.”

“You’ll wait?” I know her well enough to know she’s surprised.

I shoot her a smile as my elbows hit my knees to settle in. “Yes, ma’am.”