Page 167 of Ever With Me

“Can you turn that up?” Brooks asked, gesturing to the television on the wall. He usually avoided the entertainment shows, but this one caught his attention. “Volumen,” he added in Spanish. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if Jose spoke any Spanish.

Jose smiled and turned the volume up.

The screen switched from the newscaster, a pretty blonde with a well-practiced smile, to a montage of still, somewhat blurry shots.

Brooks didn’t have to look closely to recognize Main Street in Brandywood.

His heart constricted, and he leaned forward.

“We’ve all been following the riveting love story between the rock-star legend, who had a hot and heavy romance with Miss Yardley in September only for things to come to a devastating conclusion in October . . .”

The screen switched to a photograph of Maddie on the ground, sobbing, Naomi holding her.

Brooks’s stomach lurched.

Yeah. You did that, asshole.

“ . . . but now, it appears there might be a reconciliation in sight after all. As Brooks’s new single ‘Ever With Me’continues to climb the charts, smashing records, it’s raised speculation that this budding romance may not quite be as concluded as we thought. What’s more, we’ve had a steady stream of Brooks sightings in Brandywood, Maryland, where the happy couple appears to have picked up right where they left off . . .”

The video cut to footage of Bunny behind the counter of her shop. “Yeah, they were in here yesterday. Like regular lovebirds,” Bunny said, a smile on her face.

What?

Brooks stood, inching closer to the television, his appetite vanishing.

“It’s disgusting, really.” The footage switched to Fred Strickland, who shook his head. “I went to the drive-in last night with my wife. Those two? All over each other. This is a family town. There needs to be some respect for the kids, you know?”

“I think it’s great.” Brian Pearson’s voice came in, and the footage switched to him and Millie Price, who were seated on a park bench in the middle of the town square. “Brooks brings business. People want to see him, and they stay and spend their money here. And our girl gets a happy ending if you know what I mean.” He winked lewdly.

“Schtooping. Lots of schtooping,” Millie added with a laugh.

If the interview had been about any other topic, he almost would have laughed.

Except none of this made sense.

Why would all of them lie like this?

“Not everyone in town is as happy with the return of Brooks Kent, though. A few concerned citizens have started a petition tobanthe star from the town. We’ll report directly from Brandywood’s town hall, where the issue will be voted on at noon. So happiness for Brooks in Brandywood may be short-lived. But he sure looks happy for now.”

Another montage of still shots and Brooks felt the floor drop out from under him. The woman in the photos was clearly Maddie—he’d recognize her in a second—but the man in question was less clear. He had dark hair, wore a baseball cap similar to the one Brooks had left in Maddie’s apartment . . .holy shit, those are my clothes.

The photos weren’t particularly over-the-top, though there was a lot of intimate embracing, maybe even kisses—their arms blocked a good view—which made Brooks’s blood boil.

The camera froze on one last photo of Maddie wrapped up in the man’s arms, standing near the window of the Depot. As the camera zoomed in, he couldn’t get any clearer look at the man’s face.

But he’d recognize the tattoo on the hand, just above the wrist, from anywhere. He had the same damn one on his left hand, and it unironically read “Lefty” in a fancy script. He’d gotten it at the same time as Cormac Doyle one night when they’d gotten drunk in New York City ten years earlier.

They were both lefties, so they’d both gotten one.

Because they were like brothers.

What. The. Fuck.

Why in the hell was Cormac making out with Brooks’s woman?

She’s not your woman. You let her go, you moron.

I need to get out of this bar before I make a mistake.

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