Page 4 of Finding Hayes
We’d both had a lot of drama in the homes we’d grown up in, and we’d always been there for one another.
Until we weren’t.
Until he showed me his true colors.
And when people showed me who they were, I believed them.
Well, that’s not entirely true. Sometimes it took a couple of punches to the gut before I fully believed them. But eventually, I got there.
I was a strange mix of irrationally positive and upbeat and happy, yet there was also this dark cloud that hung over me, reminding me that every time I let my guard down, I got bitch slapped.
So, I’d remain irrationally positive and upbeat and happy, but I wouldn’t let my guard down.
Definitely not around this man.
Even if he was ridiculously good-looking.
I sighed, remembering how many fantasies I’d had about my best friend back when we were teenagers. Even when he’d started dating the ice queen from hell, Hayes was the only boy I’d ever fantasized about back then.
He’d managed to break my heart and crush me—yet we’d never even had a romantic relationship.
Well, not outside of my fantasies, at least.
“I hate that nickname,” I said, trying to feign irritation even though I’d missed the sound of his voice.
“Well, I was never a fan of you calling me Woody, so I guess we can call it even.” He smirked when Ruby came out of the kitchen carrying two burgers and set one in front of me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“I figured you could use a meal after the day you’ve had.”
Hayes glanced over at me. “Funeral’s tomorrow, right? What happened today?”
I thanked Ruby before reaching for my burger and taking a big bite. I thought about how much I wanted to share with him. But this was Hayes. Whether I ever spoke to him again didn’t really matter; he’d always been the best listener I’d ever known.
Probably because he didn’t talk all that much.
Ruby’s brothers, Rico and Zane, who I hadn’t seen since we were all kids, walked into the bar and called her over. She said she’d be back, and I looked up to see the large man beside me just staring at me.
Like he was waiting.
He’d always been a big guy, but he seemed larger now.
“Did you get taller?”
He raised a brow. “No. Maybe you got shorter.”
It had always been our joke. He stood a foot taller than my five-feet-four-inch frame.
“I’m not shorter.”
“I’m not taller. Tell me what happened today.”
“Why? We haven’t seen one another in more than a decade. Why do you want to know?” I asked, as he took a bite of his burger. He pushed up, leaned over the bar, and reached for a glass before filling it with ice. He grabbed the soda gun and poured himself what looked like a Coke, acting like he owned the place.
“Maybe I’m just bored and feel like being entertained,” he said.
“I always was the best entertainment you ever had.”
