Summer Sweat (Spruce Texas)

Lance smiles and spreads his hands. “First off, Chad loves the table. So do I. Thing is, we like it so much, now he wants to use it in the main house instead, and the dining room chairs we had for it don’t quite match the whole … whatever’s going on in the main house. Long story short—”

“You want to put in an order for matching chairs.”

Lance grimaces. “Only if it’s not a problem.”

“Not at all. How many?”

“Six, I’d say.” He reconsiders. “Maybe eight, actually, just in case. Is eight too much?”

“Nope, all good. When do you need them by?”

“You’re so sweet. At your convenience, really, no rush at all. We can work out the rest of the details another time,” he insists. “I just wanted to … put in my order in person, so to speak.”

“Consider it placed,” I assure him with a smile.

Lance wrings his hands for a second, then comes right up to me. “Okay, let’s cut to the chase. Where’s that cutie you brought with you to unload the table?”

I lift my eyebrows in surprise. “You mean Hoyt?”

“I don’t mean to pry, but …” He turns quickly, shuts the doors to the office, then faces me. “This convo is about to get a little … private. You can totally level with me. I am a safe space. We have been neighbors for a few years, right? Former classmates? Can’t we call each other friends by now, you and I?”

My heart’s already racing. “Yes, of course. Neighbors, friends, all of that. What are we, uh, leveling about?”

“Last time, when you were at the ranch and abruptly had to go, I know you insisted I didn’t say anything wrong, but I still felt like I struck a nerve. Particularly with cutie-pie.” Lance gets right up to my face and whispers: “Is he gay? Is he into you? Does he flirt all day long and it’s kinda getting on your last nerve, but you don’t want to say anything because he’s young, and your best friend is Tanner and he was his coach in school and maybe you’re protecting him? Is that it?”

I stare at him, bewildered.

That’s a very tangled braid of half-truths and wrong guesses twisted together too tightly to respond to just yet.

Lance has a sudden misgiving. “I’m overstepping, huh? I’m … I’m kinda feeling that same tension right now, like I’m just striking right at the nerve yet again.”

“It’s just …” I drop my gaze to the floor, suddenly unsure how I want to approach this.

He takes a step back, letting me off the hook. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

“No, no … It’s just that I—”

“Seriously, ignore me. Don’t indulge my terrible habits. I am just deeply deprived of social interaction out on Chad’s farm. Would you believe I actually look forward to going over to Cassie’s to discuss business? I mean, the Evans’s estate is … kind of amazing, like visiting a royal family or something. Totally different than the Strongs. But I look forward to tediously discussing numbers and marketing strategies with her. It’s weird.”

“I can imagine.”

“Oh, speaking of the Strongs, I’m so deprived of socializing, I’m even considering going to that Fourth of July party Tanner and Billy are apparently throwing tomorrow. Really, how desperate am I? Very,” he answers for me. “I’ll see myself out. Thanks again regarding the chairs and being an amazing human being in general, Harrison.” He turns to go.

I sigh. “Lance, it’s … complicated.”

He stops at the glass doors and turns. “Sorry?”

“The Hoyt situation. He … He kinda left.”

“He left? Why’d he leave?”

I hesitate, unsure whether I can really trust Lance as a friend. I’ve never actually utilized a friendship this way before. Not even with Tanner. Can I really put all of my secrets into someone else and trust they’ll stay where I put them?

With Hoyt no longer here, I’m realizing how fucking alone I really am. None of the others on the farm are particularly close to me. My parents don’t know the first thing about anything to do with my personal life or love life, and likely prefer to keep out of it for the most part. Who do I have, really?

Maybe Lance has been the best friend I could’ve had all along, and I’ve been failing to utilize him.

I need to tell him everything.

“Friends?” I ask, gesturing between the two of us. “Neighbors and friends? You and me? I can trust you?”

“Oh, hell yes,” exclaims Lance. “You and me all the way.”

“Alright.” I nod at the chair. “Take a seat, then.”

“Oh. This is a ‘take a seat’ kind of story. Got it.” He comes up to the chair, plops down in it so fast his hair bounces, then he lifts his face. “I’m here for you, Harrison. Confidential neighbor chat. Let’s hear it.”