Graham had a thing for Rennie from the first time she came to visit. They were at his house for a holiday party, and he suggested they play spin the bottle. Bowie had protested, mostly because the temptation to kiss Brooklyn would be too great, and the last thing he wanted was to put her in an awkward situation, even though he suspected Austin wouldn’t have cared. Still, everyone wanted to play, and as they sat in a circle on the floor with an empty Pepsi bottle in the center, he prayed each time Brooklyn spun that it wouldn’t land on him. The last thing he wanted was to spend seven minutes in the closet talking with the girl he loved. Graham, on the other hand, found a way to make sure the bottle landed on Rennie, and there was no mistaking her swollen lips or Graham’s cool demeanor and devilish smile when they came out of the closet.
At each visit, Graham and Rennie would sneak off, disappearing for hours at a time. It hadn’t mattered where they were—in the woods, at the lake, down on the beach, or at a party—they had always found a way to be with each other. It only made sense that Graham would take Rennie to their prom, both junior and senior year. After graduation, the two headed off to California. Graham to San Jose State to study computer science while Rennie went to Santa Clara to study law. She was the debater of the group, the one with an opinion about everything, even if she hadn’t always believed her own arguments. She’d argue the opposite just to piss off whomever challenged her, and she was damn good at it. Bowie had never thought to ask Graham if he kept in touch with Rennie because he was consumed with his own thoughts about Brooklyn, but now that he was staring at her, he wanted to know why his friend had never ended up with Rennie.
His jaw tightened when Brooklyn appeared behind Rennie. She had a smile on her face, something Bowie thought shouldn’t be there after their encounter earlier. He felt like she owed him an explanation, an apology for what she had done . . . and not only to him, but all Austin’s friends and the community. Yes, telling the town that you were sorry for hiding Austin’s child was stretching things, considering it wasn’t really anyone else’s business. But the town pined for Austin—they felt his death over and over, year after year—and having his daughter here would’ve given them some closure. As he had those thoughts, he knew he was full of shit.
Seeing Rennie and Brooklyn together brought back a flood of happy memories, and he found himself smiling, despite the anger boiling within. Days when they were all together were simpler times. As teens, they worried about homework, curfews, and whose party to attend on the weekends. After high school, their biggest issue was adulthood. The things they loved never changed as they grew older. The bonfires, the weekends at the lake, and taking his family’s boat out first thing in the morning so they had a coveted spot on the sandbar. He missed everything about the way their lives had been and had tried to do these things with Rachel, but they had never felt right. His actions had been forced, and he had run on autopilot.
He tried to look away before Rennie caught him staring. She grinned and took a few steps toward him. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Bowie Holmes.” Brooklyn set her hand on Rennie’s shoulder and whispered something into her ear before beelining it toward a table.
Great, he thought. He was either going to have to leave or stay and torture himself. He knew he would stay because being in the same room as Brooklyn was far better than knowing she was in the bar and he wasn’t.
“Renee Wallace, long time no see.” Only he wasn’t looking at Rennie when he spoke to her; he was watching Brooklyn. When he finally turned his attention toward Rennie, he gave her a cursory glance. Slim, blonde hair mixed with browns and other shades of blonde. Eye makeup—which he hadn’t seen Brooklyn wear yet—highlighted her brown eyes, and she was wearing a suit. If he had to guess, Renee was working for corporate America. He should know what her career choice was, but for the life of him couldn’t remember.
Rennie sat on the stool beside him, leaving him no choice but to pay attention to her. Never in his life had he wished for eyes in the back of his head until now. He wanted to know what Brooklyn was doing, who she was speaking with, and whether she had her eyes pinned on his back, because he could swear daggers were piercing his skin. Against his better judgment, he peered over his shoulder to get one last look at Brooklyn. She was on her phone, typing away. Jealousy soared through him. It wasn’t that he wanted to know who she was chatting with; he wanted to share the bench she sat on. He wanted to be next to her. To have her on the other side of him now so they could accidently brush their arms against each other. When he had cornered her in the kitchen earlier, he hadn’t expected a flood of emotions to come back. Anger was what he wanted to feel, not longing. He was tempted to go to her, to grab her hand and pull her outside, where they could talk. Where he could say the things that were on his mind. Where he could kiss . . . no, he wasn’t going there.