Page 77 of When It's Us
The only single one left is broken.
Hutch
Hankmeetsmeathis front door, and we head straight to the back deck, where he’s manning the grill. Hudson and Jasper, Hank’s best friend, are already out here with beers in hand.
“Happy birthday,” I tell Jasper, shaking his hand.
“Thanks,” he says. “How’s the business?”
“Busy,” I say, grabbing a beer from the cooler. “You still with the state?”
“Yeah, wildfire mitigation mostly. Trees, land management, minimal human interaction—how I like it.”
He really is Hank's best friend. Grumpy fuckers. “Still playing ball with us this season?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he says, raising his beer.
Jasper might not be around much these days, but he’s still one of us. He plays on our rec team and has known the family forever. His wife, Josie, is Hayley’s best friend.
I glance back toward the house, and that’s all it takes.
Hudson follows my line of sight and grins.
“What?”
“You know exactly who you’re looking for.”
I shoot him a look.
Hudson cracks a grin. “Listen, fucker. I took your shit for years about me fucking Finn. It’s only fair I give you shit now that some chick other than Sarah fucking Kessler has your dick all twisted up.”
That name hits a nerve, and I grip the bottle tighter. “Shut the fuck up, Hudson.”
Surprise flashes across his face. Jasper goes quiet, and Hank glances over his shoulder.
“Okay, man. Shit. I’m messing around,” Hudson says, hands up.
Hank closes the grill and turns toward us, beer in hand. “You alright, brother?”
I blow out a breath and take a long pull from my drink.
The truth is, I’m a bit nervous about seeing Ginger again. In the short time we’ve spent together, I’m looking forward to seeing her, which is weird. I never think about women like this.
At least that’s what I kept telling myself on the drive over. She’d turned out to be fun, and even though I’ve built my life around being alone, I’d gotten used to having her around—liked it, even. And that was messing with my head. Would I actually miss her when she went back to California? I wanted to say hell no.
Except…maybe?
I hated how off it made me feel. Like something was missing when she wasn’t around.
But she was leaving in three weeks. It wouldn’t matter. I’d go back to spending 99.9% of my time alone, and she’d go back to California to do whatever she does there. Simple. Easy. The way it should andneedsto be. We fuck; we laugh. Sometimes we repeat. Just because it’s not my normal M.O. doesn’t mean anything.
I shrug, hoping it’s convincing. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Hudson snorts. “Really? You’re starting to act like Hank before Wren came back and pussy whipped him back into shape.”
“Eat a dick, asshole,” Hank mutters, barely hiding his smirk.
I take another swig, eyes drifting toward the house.
