Page 47 of Take the Bait

Hanna’s heart sunk. She felt her eyes prick with tears. “You’re... What? When did you—Why?”

Bella grabbed Hanna’s hand and sighed. “Han, we’re the only gay people in, like, a 100-mile radius.” Her sister laughed. “Our community here has been supportive enough, but we want to go be around the other gays. Make some friends who understand us a bit more. Maybe live somewhere that has its own Pride Parade.”

“Plus,” Madi added, grabbing Hanna’s other hand, “I got my dream job as an attorney for the ACLU.”

Hanna’s jaw dropped, and tears started streaming down her face. “Holy fucking shit. Holy fucking shit! You… When… How?”

Madi laughed. “We’ve been thinking about leaving for a while now. When we went to New York last year for vacation, we started seriously considering it, and when I saw this job open up, I thought,Might as well give it a shot.”

Madi shrugged, in thatI-don’t-give-a-shitway of hers, and Hanna’s head spun.

Hanna should've known. Madi's talent was wasted here because she was always destined to make change on a macro-level, becoming a big-wig lawyer taking down bad guys.

“But you’re licensed in Alabama…” Hanna said.

Madi twisted her lips. “I passed the bar in New York last month.”

Hurt coursed through her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Madi’s eyes swam with tears. “I wanted to. Really. But I didn’t want to get you all worked up for nothing. If I didn’t pass the New York bar, it would’ve been… Well, not something I wanted to talk about. But when I did pass, I knew I wanted to tell you in person.”

Hanna nodded. “I get it.”

After all, she had been keeping secrets of her own.

“So, Han.” Bella said, squeezing her hand. “Maybe you should tell us about the guy you’re seeing. And we can help you figure out how to make Orange Beach feel more like home.”

Tugging the two of them in for a group hug, Hanna let go of the idea that she’d be moving back home and grinned. “Well, his name is Tucker. And he’s a chef.”

“Oh my god, yes. It’s like a fanfic forThe Bear.” Madi’s eyes twinkled. “Tell us everything and spare no detail or so help me God, you can’t come visit us in New York.”

Tucker sippedthe beer he’d opened nearly 30 minutes ago, grimacing at how warm it had become. A bowl game he was barely paying attention to was on, and Shawn was enthusiastically yelling at the TV.

Since college, they always spent the week between Christmas and New Year’s watching every bowl game they could while drinking more beer than either of them cared to admit. They’d agreed to take that information to their grave, in fact. Tucker always brought some homemade appetizers for the occasion—the kind that went best with football. His special pigs in ablanket, chips and queso, and the peanut butter cookies he’d taught Hanna to make.

This was one of his favorite times of the year. And for the first time in years, he was able to completely unplug from work. He’d promoted his best server, Sheila, to manager and trusted her to run things while he was taking some long-overdue time off. He’d been looking forward to quality time with his best friend, filled with tipsy screams at the TV and reminiscing about the good ol’ days of their childhood.

But this year, it was different.

Because he couldn’t get a tiny, brunette, tattooed kindergarten teacher off his mind.

And it was so fucking obvious, he was pretty sure Shawn was about to kick him out of his apartment.

“This is how it’s gonna be, huh?” Shawn said, tipping back the rest of his beer, a backwards baseball cap on. “You’re just gonna mope because Hanna ghosted you?”

Tucker grunted.

“At least we have New Year’s in a few days.” Shawn cracked open another beer. “You’ve got that to look forward to.”

Every year, they went to Flora-Bama and danced with tourists until their feet hurt, usually stumbling home with someone they’d met on the dance floor to start the year off with a bang. Literally.

Normally, Tucker loved partying with Shawn like they were years younger than they actually were—letting loose a bit and having fun. But thinking about it made his stomach sour, and he didn’t know if he could find it in him to do it this year.

When he said as much to Shawn, his best friend was dumbstruck.

“Dude, we do this every year. Don’t bail on me.”

Tucker’s eyes drifted to the TV, barely even registering who was playing. “I don’t think I’d be any fun anyway.”

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