Page 44 of Heart So Hollow

“But,” I gaze back at him with amazement, “how did you find me?”

He takes a swig of his beer he brought with him, “You’re not that hard to find. You told me this is where you hang out.”

I can’t remember all the things I’ve told him, it was so much, but I obviously must have. I can’t believe he remembered. When I look at Barrett, she’s sipping her drink, eyes wide, observing everything intently.

“Bowen, this is Barrett Halsey,” I motion to her, and then to Bowen, “Barrett, this is Bowen Garrison.”

“So, I’ve heard,” Barrett quips, arching an eyebrow mischievously before shaking his hand.

“So,” Bowen rests his elbows on the table, glancing back and forth between Barrett and I, “you ladies having a good evening?”

Having a good…suddenly, all the crushing disappointment rushes back to me.

“I haven’t heard from you since last week!” I snap in a flash of anger.

Barrett nearly chokes on her drink as she stifles a laugh. But Bowen is unfazed by my accusatory tone.

He reaches behind me and wraps his arm around my lower back, leaning closer, “I lost my phone in a swamp.”

“What?” Barrett shrieks from behind her glass.

Bowen is matter-of-fact, as though his explanation is enough, but I’m not buying it.

“A swamp,” I repeat, deadpan.

He reaches into his back pocket, pulls out his phone, and tosses it onto the table. The black and orange case looks brand new, a far cry from the scratched and faded silver case I remember from a week ago.

“Did you try calling me?” he asks.

I admit nothing.

“It went straight to voicemail, right?”

I never tried to call him because I was so angry. But he doesn’t have to know that. Instead, I look at Barrett, and she looks at me, poker-face firmly in place. She won’t say anything. Then I look back at Bowen, the muscles in his cheeks twitching with amusement.

“I knew you’d be mad at me,” he smirks.

“No,” I lie, “I actually got a lot written after you left.”

“Oh,” he gives an understanding nod, “so, I pissed you off enough to light a fire under your ass?”

“You didn’t do anything,” I spit scornfully, “you didn’t even text me back when you got a new phone.”

“No,” he admits, “I came here to see you instead.”

“Good Lord,” Barrett rolls her eyes and shifts in her seat, “if I wanted to sit in on a domestic dispute, I’d just go visit my parents.”

I should be more annoyed, but I’d be lying if I said I am. I can barely contain the smile that threatens to break through any second, I’m just glad to see him again.

Neither Barrett or I argue when Bowen swipes the check off our table and carries it up to the bar to close out everyone’s tab.

Barrett tilts her head, gawking at Bowen over my shoulder as he walks away, “He needs to grovel more,” then she gives me a nod, “but it’s a good start.”

When Bowen returns, we make our way out to the parking lot where Barrett extends her arms and I embrace her in a hug, telling her I’ll talk to her later.

She glances over my shoulder, “Nice meeting you, Bowen. And thanks for dinner!” Then she looks at me impishly, “He should come out with us more often.”

“Anytime,” Bowen nods as Barrett disappears behind a line of cars, leaving us standing in front of Calhoun’s. Then he turns his attention back to me, “What else are you doing tonight?”

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