Page 61 of Verses

I felt sad…because that sounded like a lonely way to spend a day dedicated to overindulgence, gratitude, with lots of people around a table. And then it hit me: maybe he needed us as much as we needed him.

And, if I could find a natural way to work it into conversation, I planned to ask the next chance I got, whether it was my business or not.

Little did I know,my chance to ask would come later that evening.

After our practice, Wolf invited us all over to his place. Kyle took me in his car but said he’d have to leave for work around nine—and Pedro and Adrian would have to leave a couple of hours after that.

I didn’t know at the time that Wolf didnotlive in Charlotte. Instead, he lived in Coal Hollow, a place that barely constituted a town, because it was actually a bunch of scattered homes south of Charlotte with a post office and a few churches. There might have been a barber shop on their Main Street at one time, but most of the roads were dirt and there were only a couple of streets where buildings were even close to each other.

But, back in the old days, especially when mining pioneers were first settling this part of Colorado, they grouped together wherever an excavation was—so there were even places nearby that could be considered ghost towns, but in reality they were just some shacks by Coal Hollow where farmers now let their cattle graze.

I shouldn’t have been surprised Wolf lived out there, because plenty of people did. After all, kids from Coal Hollow attended school in Charlotte. In a big city, Coal Hollow would have just been called a neighborhood. What shocked me about Wolf’s place was how nice it was. The homes near the center of Coal Hollow—just a couple of miles south of Charlotte, in walking distance if a person was desperate—always seemed old and rundown, but Wolf’s place, farther out, was spacious and well kept.

In all fairness, all I saw inside was a few rooms…but the place seemed pretty big.

“Anybody want a beer?” Wolf asked as our other three band members settled in to play Call of Duty.

“Nah, bro,” Pedro says. “I’d love one but my boss wouldn’t like it so much.”

“Got it. Want a Coke or—”

“Yeah. You guys?”

Adrian and Kyle nodded, so Pedro got up and took three cans from Wolf before sitting back on the couch between the drummer and guitarist.

Which left Wolf and me in the dining room. I’d been standing there while Wolf hung in the bright kitchen playing host but now that the guys seemed content with the bowl of potato chips and pop, Wolf could focus his attention on me.

I tried not to get all excited about it.

“Did you want a beer, Hayley?”

“Yeah, sure. What do you have?”

“You ever try Sierra Nevada?”

“Never heard of it.”

Wolf gave me a grin that nearly made my knees buckle. “Then you have to try their Pale Ale.”

Ever the bartender, he popped the lid off two bottles, one for him and one for me, before handing me one. “How long have you lived here?” I asked before taking a sip of the beer.

“A long time. I should have let this place go years ago. I’d probably be better off.”

“Why do you saythat?”

“Divorce is expensive—and even though Colorado’s not a community property state, I still had to cough up a lot of money when we divided assets and stuff.”

“When did you get divorced?” That probably shouldn’t have mattered to me. After all, Kyle and I had barely broken up.

Marriage, though…that seemed more permanent, more serious. Kyle and I had never claimed to be anything more than girlfriend/ boyfriend.

“Which time?” I raised my eyebrows, making sure not to spit out the beer in my mouth, and he reminded me: “I’ve been married twice.”

“I guess both then.”

“The first time I was really young. Twenty. And we lasted barely more than a year.”

Jesus. Kyle and I had been together way longer than that.

---