Page 58 of When We Were Us
That scowl is immediately replaced with a reluctant smile when he looks down as Hayley nudges him.
“Ooh, I love this song! Hank, dance with me?” She lifts his arm and does a little twirl before he nods. She lets out a holler and takes a shot of tequila before pulling him away.
Hudson slides into the booth next to me and bumps my shoulder with his.
“Hey, Wren,” he says. Draping a long arm over the back of the booth behind me, he gives a lock of Finn’s hair a light tug. “Hey, Jameson.”
Finn leans across me and pulls his arm hair with a little snicker. “Ow! What the hell was that for?” he says, rubbing his arm, but there’s no malice in his voice. I swear they live to torment each other.
“I’d say I’m going to separate you two, but I already am, and it’s not doing any good.” My gaze bounces between the two of them, each sitting on opposite sides of me.
Norah laughs from across the table. “Just don’t let your guard down. The way those two are constantly picking on each other, you're liable to lose an eye if you don’t watch out.”
For the next two songs, the five of us chat while Hank dances with Hayley. I keep catching glimpses of them on the dance floor, and every time they come back around, they’re chatting and laughing together. It’s nice to see Hank with a smile on his face, even if I’m not the one to put it there.
It’s so confusing being around him. One second, we’re at each other’s throats. The next, he’s super protective, sweet, and caring. Then, he’s distant and aloof. Whatever. It doesn't even matter because, once the house is sold, I’ll go back to California to try to fix whatever is left of my life, and he’ll stay here. It’s probably best to just leave well enough alone. At least we aren’t fighting anymore.
I need to focus on why I came here and leave Hank out of it. Easier said than done in this small-ass town.
Turning my attention back to the conversation, I just catch the tail end of it.
“Hales said they’re still looking for volunteers and donations for both the silent auction and the homeless shelter, too,” Norah says.
Hudson nods. “I’ve got a check for her, and Paige has been helping Mom all week with posters for the bake sale.”
“Wren, you and I should volunteer for the dunk tank. It’ll be just like old times,” Finn says around a mouthful of peanuts.
I picture myself perched on the small, wooden platform suspended above a tank of too-cold water. Just a sitting duck for the residents of Timber Forge to take their shot at dunking me. It’s the literal last thing I want to volunteer for.
“Isn’t there something a little less…wet I can volunteer for?”
I actually hadn’t thought about volunteering or even attending really until Mrs. Hayes had expressed her concern over not having enough volunteers. My mind had been on that voicemail Derek left, and then I’d run into Hank for the second time in as many days. I wanted to run out of there as fast as my feet could carry me, but I’d been pulled into a conversation and didn’t want to be rude.
Norah lifts her chin in the direction of the dance floor, where Hayley and Hank are still spinning around. “I’m sure Hank and the guys could use someone to help with the animals, since that’s more up your alley,” she says.
Finn and I exchange a look.
“No one needs to see Jameson in a wet T-shirt either,” Hudson says, reaching across me and snatching Finn’s water as my mouth drops open in shock.
“Rude!” Finn says. “Also, get your own drink, mooch!” Finn slaps his hand, but she doesn’t seem the least bit offended by what he said. “Besides, I have an amazing rack. Anyone would be lucky to see me in a wet T-shirt.”
“That’s exactly why I said it.”
I eye Hudson as they bicker back and forth across the table on either side of me.
This conversation feels weird. This is weird, right?
I look around the table, but no one else seems to think it’s strange that they are talking about Finn’s boobs. It is either a normal occurrence or they aren’t listening. It’s the only explanation. Nat is scrolling her phone andNorah is picking at her cuticles. Not listening, then.
I make a mental note to talk to Finn about it later. Between tonight and the two of them so cozy on the couch at Finn’s, there is definitely something there.
He takes a long pull on her straw and lets out a long, “Ahhhhhh!” with a wide grin.
“Jackass,” she mutters as he hands back her half-empty drink with a smirk.
They literally have not changed a bit in the last seventeen years.
Like she isn't an active participant in the weirdest conversation ever, Finn looks at me and says, “If you have any clothes or blankets you want to unload from your grandparents’ house, I’m sure they could use them at the homeless shelter. I’m taking some stuff to donate over to the ranch in the next couple of days.” She chucks a rolled-up straw paper at Hudson.
