Page 36 of Rewrite Our Story

I laugh. Slopes is the tourist bar in town, but it’s Saturday and dance nights are something Pippa can’t resist. I’m more of a Bucky’s guy. It’s so dingy that tourists barely show up there. It’s perfect. Luckily, we’re in the off-season. Slopes will no doubt be busy with people who visit for the summer, but it’ll be nothing compared to what it’s like during ski season.

“If only people knew you were jamming to this shit before going line dancing. You’d be kicked out of the place.”

This elicits a small giggle from Mare in the backseat. I fight the urge to find her eyes through the rearview mirror.

Pippa is completely unbothered by my comment. If anything, it only further fuels her to sing louder. She turns up the song and uses her phone as a pretend microphone as she screams the lyrics from the passenger seat.

For the rest of the car ride, we don’t say anything. Pippa sings, Mare looks out the window, and I stay lost in my thoughts, wondering if maybe I shouldn’t have volunteered myself as a DD. Mare’s thighs are hanging out of a pair of cutoff jeans in a way that’s driving me wild. She looks more like the Mare I used to know, looking more country than city girl.

Men will fall at her feet tonight. Something I don’t think I’m capable of witnessing—especially sober.

As soon as I put the truck in park, Pippa is swinging her door open and squealing in delight. It’s clear she needs this night out, and she’s actually excited about something. I’ll find a way to deal just to see her not crying over Mom or burying herself in work and pretending like nothing happened.

Pippa pretty much pulls Mare out of the backseat, immediately looping her arm through hers as she pulls her body toward the entrance. Music pours out of the open garage doors as we make our way toward it. Mare and Pippa walk ahead of me as I follow a few steps behind. We had to get a spot toward the back of the parking lot, the party already in full-swing at Slopes.

I follow the two of them as Pippa hunts down the rest of the group she’d invited. She finds them, all of our friends piled into a circular booth close to the dancefloor.

Everyone greets us. I hate that there’s pity in all of their eyes as they look at the three of us. It’s hard to get over the death of someone when everyone around you reminds you of the pain you’re feeling with the pity in their eyes.

Brendan slides out of the booth, pulling me into a half hug. “It’s good to see you, Jennings.” At least he doesn’t look at me with as much pity as some of the other’s do. Brendan’s eyes light up slightly as he looks to my right, his focus solely on Mare.

Jealousy jolts through me when she smiles at him.

What the fuck. She hasn’t even smiled at me like that since she’s been back. Not that I’ve done much to get one from her since I’ve been such a dick.

“Evans,” Brendan says right before letting out a whistle. “Missbestselling authorin the flesh. It’s been too damn long.”

She shakes her head at him, anxiously tucking her hands in the back pockets of her shorts that are too fucking short. “Stop,” she pleads, embarrassed. “You make me sound cooler than I am.”

He wraps her in a tight embrace, and her cowboy boots come off the floor as he lifts her in the air.

I have to tear my eyes away from them for a moment before I act like a jealous, raging, asshole and rip her right from his arms.

“Are you kidding me? You’re the coolest fucking person this town has known, Evans. Your book sat proudly in every store when it was released. All the women in town had a book club for it.” His voice gets a little lower when he risks a glance at me. “Linda hosted it,” he finishes sadly.

“All the paperback sales make sense now,” Mare teases, finally stepping out of Brendan’s grasp.

Thank fuck.

I stare at the spot where Brendan and Mare still touch at the arms. “It’s good to have you back in Sutten.” He isn’t bashful when he looks her up and down. “Country looks good on you, girl.”

Pippa wraps up whatever conversation she was having with our friends. She stops next to Mare. “We need to go get a drink. I might need one or two before I feel loose enough to go out to the floor.”

Brendan smiles. He finally breaks contact with Mare and walks up to the table. He pulls out three opened bottles of beers. He hands one to Pippa, then me, before he focuses back on Mare.

I’m certain he still wants her by the look in his eyes, even all these years later. He lays it on thick when he hands the beer over to Mare. “Will you still drink cheap beer or are you more of a martini girl now?”

Mare rolls her eyes, pressing the tip of the bottle to her lips and taking a long gulp. Pippa’s eyebrows raise, impressed. Mare gulps down more than half of the bottle before she pulls it from her lips and wipes some drops away with the back of her hand.

She looks at me for a split second before looking back at Brendan. “Please,” she begins. “I’m more of a white winewomanthan a martini woman.” She lifts the beer in the air, knocking it against the one in Pippa’s hand in a cheers. “But there’s nothing that goes better with Slopes than some ice-cold, cheap beer.”

Brendan beams as he pulls her arm downward, nudging her to sit next to him in the booth. “That’s my girl,” he states proudly.

Like fuck she’s your girl. I bite my tongue, knowing I have no right to say that even though it’s exactly how I feel.

If Mare is going to be anyone’s in Sutten, she’d be mine. The problem was, Mare didn’t want anyone in Sutten. She wanted the big city dream. Brendan and I don’t stand a chance against the trust-fund city boys.

If I thought she’d end up with someone in this small town, I’d make damn sure it was me.

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