Page 32 of Come Break My Heart Again

My mom scowls at me, and Cormac appears equally annoyed.

“She came here, Ryder. Mom didn’t hunt your ex-girlfriend down and ask for all the gifts.”

“Gifts?” I question. “There was more than the tea?”

They exchange a look that tells me I won’t like the answer.

There’s a honk outside. I glance at the clock on the microwave. Eight p.m.

Immediately, I stand. “That’s Tuck. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Ryder …” my mom starts.

I shake my head. “It’s fine.”

Then, I hurry out of the trailer like it’s on fire, more eager to escape that kitchen than I was to leave prison, my head still spinning.

Cormac said I should know? I wish he’d kept his mouth shut tight. Wish I hadn’t looked twice at that tea.

Rather than the beat-up green truck Tucker used to drive, a shiny black one is idling at the end of the short driveway.FRANKLIN CONSTRUCTIONis printed on the door in neat block letters.

Tuck waves enthusiastically as I approach, but doesn’t step out of the truck. I realize why when I open the door.

“… not sure that I should mix the two, you know?” a woman’s voice is saying. “It was nice of her to offer, but what if I hate it all? How would I tell her?”

“Honey, we’ve eaten at her restaurant twice,” Tuck replies. “Remember how good that duck was? You’re not going to hate anything, and you said she has a long waiting list. What’s the point of having connections if you don’t use them?”

Tuck leans over to hug me once I’ve settled in the passenger seat, punching my shoulder twice before he relaxes back in his seat and mouths,Keira.

I nod.

“So, you think I should accept?”

“I do,” Tuck confirms. “But it’s your call. If you want to find a different caterer, let’s do that. I gotta go, okay? I just picked Ryder up.”

There’s a noticeable pause. The smile Tuck aims my way is amused and a little apologetic. The air in the cab turns tangible, thickened by history and nostalgia and mistakes.

“Hi, Ryder.”

“Hi, Keira,” I respond.

“It’s nice to, um, hear your voice.”

I give Keira credit for effort at least. We barely know each other, our closest connection being Tucker. She also has plenty of reasons to hate me, by proxy.

“You too,” I say. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

“Thanks. I’ll, uh, talk to you later, Tuck.”

“Sounds good,” Tucker replies cheerfully. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

There’s a soft click as the call disconnects.

Tuck immediately leans over for a second hug. “Man, it is good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.” I grin at my best friend, the heaviness in my chest lightening some.

---