by Lucy Hawkins
This time, he wasn’t driving through Redwood, but he did suggest a detour if Hank was up for it. Normally, he would have agreed. The no-strings part of their relationship had always been great. But something kept him back this time. Probably just the stress of everything happening lately, he told himself. Nothing at all to do with a certain high-maintenance crush who’d come waltzing back into his life. Definitely not.
Five
Alex
“Weddings Quarterly?” Alex repeated, his throat burning from where he had swallowed his coffee too quickly.
“Mmhm,” Hazel said. No doubt she was grinning like an idiot on the other end of the phone.
“That’s uh…” A nightmare, his brain finished. A fucking disaster. The last thing he wanted to deal with. “That’s great, Haze.” Hopefully he sounded enthusiastic enough.
A year ago, he would have been overjoyed if he’d been told a wedding he had planned was going to be featured in one of the biggest and most prestigious magazines in the country. But he wasn’t the same person he had been then. Fear and resentment coursed through his veins, though he tried to keep a tight rein on his emotions. This really was just another insult to an already-severe injury.
“Can you believe it, Alex?” Her voice was shrill through the receiver. “This is huge! Not just for me either. This is going to be great for your career.”
What career? He didn’t have a career. What he had was a Google result three pages deep of gossipy articles about his failed wedding. Now, even more people were going to know. They would see his name in Weddings Quarterly, look him up, and realize what a joke he was.
“Yeah, it’s amazing.”
His stomach rolled at the lie. Hazel was the one person he’d always felt he could be completely honest with. He couldn’t bring himself to be a Debbie Downer on the whole situation, though, no matter how much it hurt him. The whole situation had him in a mix of emotions he didn’t even know how to start untangling. Hazel—his best friend in the entire world—was pregnant and getting ready to marry the man of her dreams, and Alex was supposed to be there to support her. But he had lost faith in the sanctity of marriage and even the joy of weddings. If not for the fact this was Hazel’s wedding, he wouldn’t even be planning it.
“I have to go,” Hazel said, intruding on his thoughts. “We have our first ultrasound today. God, I feel like I’m getting fat already. I can’t stop eating Reese’s cups. I better not be showing on the wedding day.”
Alex snorted, grateful for the slight change in topic. “No way. Besides, even if you are, it’s impossible for you to look anything other than gorgeous.” With her strawberry blonde hair, full lips, and high cheekbones, she could be Nicole Kidman’s sister. “I’ll talk to you later.”
After Hazel disconnected, Alex sank back into the driver’s seat of his car. He attempted another sip of the horrible doughnut shop coffee and nearly spat it out. It had gone cold and lost any of the flavor it might have once had. He needed something stronger than this—something that would clear his head and allow him to concentrate on something other than the inevitable next disaster headed his way. Had he shattered a mirror recently? Stepped under a ladder or crossed paths with a black cat? Whatever he’d done, it didn’t seem his bad luck was going to end any time soon. At the moment, the only thing he had control over was his own actions. So, he started the car and headed for The Lakeside.
The warm, yeasty scent of freshly-baked bread wafted down the hall as Alex headed toward the kitchen where AC/DC blared from behind the closed door. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the sight that greeted him. Hank bobbed his head in time with the music, his hips swaying, as he kneaded dough on the flour-covered counter top. After one too many seconds staring at Hank’s ass, Alex cleared his throat. Hank spun, looking every bit like a kid who’d been caught stealing candy. He reached over and turned the volume on the radio down, leaving trails of flour behind.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I thought I was alone.”
Alex shrugged. “Your kitchen. I’m just here for coffee.”
“Coffee?”
“Real coffee,” he said with a nod. “Not that shit they serve at the doughnut shop. How is it you’re the only one in Redwood that serves a decent brew?”
Hank laughed. “Magnolia’s Bakery is decent.”
“I don’t go there,” Alex said firmly.
“Why not?”
“Because reasons.” Alex rankled at the question. The owner’s son Jakob had been one of the first boys he’d dated. It had been a short-lived affair, interrupted when his parents found out about it. They’d shipped him off to some weird conversion therapy camp, and when he’d come back, he hadn’t had anything to do with Alex. But Hank didn’t need to know that. In fact, it was best if Hank knew as little as possible about him.
“Well, alright then.” Hank shrugged and walked over to the pot, pouring him a cup.
Something about the way Hank looked at him sent an itch of irritation through Alex. As though he were nothing more than a high-strung wedding planner. Sure, he hadn’t been carrying his stress well, but that was to be expected. Besides, it wasn’t as though he was proud of feeling sorry for himself, especially when everyone from Hazel to his mom and sister were over it. But every time he thought he was finally moving past what had happened, something would come along and shake it all back up.
This time, it was an email he’d received the night before from Grant—the first form of contact since he’d left Alex at the altar three months earlier. He couldn’t bring himself to open it. All he’d seen was the subject—Please Read. That had been enough to make his blood run cold and send him to the toilet so he could throw up. Since then, anxiety had been bubbling too close to the surface. He hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours last night, and the conversation with Hazel hadn’t helped matters.
Taking a seat on one of the bar stools at the large counter, Alex glanced at the pile of dough on the cutting board. It was difficult to imagine the hulking, bearded man in front of him enjoying something like kneading dough and forming loaves on a tray, but he seemed to like it, returning to the task after he’d given Alex his coffee.
“Norma taught me how to make bread,” Hank said, as though reading his thoughts. “That was my job when I was growing up here. I’d have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn every day to prepare the dough.”
“I can’t even make pizza bagels without burning them,” Alex admitted.
Hank let out a small hearty laugh. “But you can do other things. Like plan weddings.”
Alex hesitated a beat. “Sure.” What good was a skill he had no intention of using after this wedding? Cooking was something productive. Grant had teased him more than once about his inability to cook. He cleared his throat. “I thought you moved to Florida to play pro football or something. Why’d you come back to Redwood to run the inn?”
Hank’s body went tense, and his hands froze in the dough. Then he glanced up with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Reasons,” he said with a wink.
As much as Alex wanted to press further, he couldn’t. After all, it was the same answer he’d given when Hank asked why he didn’t go to Magnolia’s Bakery. There were just some things neither one of them could talk about. It didn’t stop him from being curious, though. Why was he back here, in tiny, quaint Redwood, instead of making millions as a wide receiver? There was nothing here for him other than the inn now that his aunt had passed away. There was a mystery to him that Alex wanted to explore further.
“And what about you?” Hank asked, after several moments of awkward silence. “I thought you’d be off living in the city or something. You always did seem too big for this town.”
What the hell did he mean by that? Was it supposed to be a dig or just an observation that Alex didn’t fit in Redwood? More than likely, it was both. Maybe he should just tell him the truth. God knew he wanted to tell someone. Even with Hazel and his family, he hadn’t really vented about the sp
ecifics of his situation. Sure, they’d seen how he’d retreated to his room for weeks on end, and they’d nursed him through his crying sessions. But he hadn’t ever told them about the nightmares or the loneliness, or the fear that he would never be truly happy again.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I was living in the city. Almost ten years in Manhattan. Found myself a nice guy and got engaged. And then he dumped me. Left me at the altar on our wedding day.” As he spoke, some of the weight seemed to lift off his shoulders, only to come crashing back down as he realized who he was talking to. No doubt Hank would take the opportunity to poke.
“I’m sorry,” Hank said, his expression softer than Alex expected. “That sounds like a nightmare.”
“Yeah, a little.” His stomach churned, but he couldn’t deny it felt good to talk about it. He’d acknowledged it, and that was something, right? At least he’d moved past the denial stage of grief. “So, that’s why I’m back here. To escape my problems, or something like that.”
“You’re definitely not alone there,” Hank said, concentrating a little too intently on shaping a loaf of dough. “Maybe that’s all this town is good for.”
“Escaping problems?”
“Something like that.” Hank turned to the oven and slid in the tray lined with loaves.
“Could be. Although I’m pretty sure I left for the city to escape my problems in the first place. Maybe there really is no safe place in life.”
Hank chuckled. “I think you’re on to something. Maybe we should build a rocket ship and get the hell off Earth entirely.”
“You know,” Alex said with a grin, “that doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.”
Six
Hank
As spring segued into summer, the nights grew shorter and warmer, so Hank left the windows open. He sat back on the sofa and cracked the top off a bottle of local craft beer—a reward for all the work he’d accomplished. He’d spent most of the day outside tending to overgrown weeds in the garden and working on the lake cottages.
Sticking his feet up on the ottoman, he let out a slow breath. Alex had dropped by yet again to check on progress and was satisfied with the pace everything was coming together. Spending more time with Alex was surprisingly refreshing. In the days since he’d opened up about his situation, Hank had actually been able to let his guard down a bit. He’d always been this unattainable perfectionist when they were in school. Now, Hank had seen past the untouchable exterior to the flawed, hurt person underneath. In a strange way, Hank found himself hurting for Alex. He knew what it was like to want something, to think you had it all, only for it to be taken away. To be left back at square one. Broke, broken, and alone.
Maybe he and Alex weren’t as different as he’d let himself believe.
Hank took another sip of beer and picked up the TV remote. Flicking through a few channels, he noticed The Notebook had just started and laughed before changing the channel again. After several more channels, he realized there was nothing better on. Curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself flicking back to The Notebook. One romance movie wasn’t going to make him soft, and besides, it had Ryan Gosling in it. And since both Rhiannon and Alex had talked about how great it was…
It took nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds for Hank to find himself fully invested in Allie and Noah’s love story. His chest ached at the thought of finding a love of his own—one that would consume his heart and soul the way theirs did. Unbidden, he thought of Alex. Alex had always made him feel things he’d never felt for anyone else, even his previous flings. He could enrage Hank like no one else and then the very next moment surprise him in the best way possible. Hank wanted to dig even deeper. To know all of Alex.
Shaking his head, Hank tried to focus on the movie. Allie danced in the ocean, her arms stretched out to her sides, demanding Noah tell her she was a bird. He found himself grinning at the two of them, secretly agreeing with Allie. He didn’t believe in reincarnation, but much like a bird, he had found himself migrating back to his home just in time for summer. And Alex had done the same. Maybe they had found themselves back in Redwood for a reason.
Or maybe it was wishful thinking. After all, if Alex hadn’t been dumped, he would still be in New York City as some other guy’s husband. Jealousy flared deep inside his chest, much as it had since Alex had told him about the breakup. But he wasn’t exactly sure who he was jealous of—Alex, for finding someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, or the mystery guy who had stolen Alex’s heart. More than likely, it was a combination of both. And then the guy had gone and thrown it all away. How could anyone treat Alex like that? Breaking off their wedding on the day of had been cruel. Hank couldn’t imagine the humiliation and heartbreak Alex must have felt.
He wanted to hold Alex and comfort him. To protect him from even more pain. All the more reason he shouldn’t make a move. Alex’s heart was damaged. It hadn’t been too long ago he’d been left. There was no way he was interested in starting something with someone new. Even if he was, he certainly wasn’t interested in Hank, even if they had started forming some sort of friendship—if you could call it that. And if that weren’t enough, there was still the simple fact that Hank wasn’t good enough for him. Whether it was all in his head or Alex really did think he was better than Hank, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t give Alex the things he deserved. Alex was the kind of guy you bought gifts for and took to fancy dinners and shows. The kind of guy you took for vacation somewhere tropical and kissed in clear blue oceans. The kind of guy you made love to in a big bed with white linen sheets and kissed all over after, so he knew he was the only one you ever wanted…
Fuck.
Draining the rest of his beer, Hank focused back on The Notebook for what seemed like the hundredth time. Only, this scene was the one he had been waiting for—Allie and Noah rowing out on a lake filled with swans. Well, some swans. Most of them were, in fact, ducks. Still, that didn’t change the fact that it was a beautiful scene. “You’re different,” Allie had said. “You know, you’re kind of the same, though.” He was certainly different. He’d grown up; he was a more refined version of himself now. His dark hair was parted differently, and his body… Hank wanted to do all sorts of things to that body. But he was the same person Hank had been in love with all those years before. He’d been clueless then about how to woo another man, and he was equally clueless now. But the swan scene in The Notebook was beautiful and dream-like, and he could see why Alex wanted swans for the wedding. Hank just had to figure out how he was going to find them.
Hank gave up on sleep as the sun climbed over the horizon, light filtering in through the shades on his window. He was sweating, just as he had been through much of the night, the sheet sticking to his legs. His thoughts churned like the ocean in a storm, threatening to overwhelm him. Thoughts of Jacksonville and his failed football career. Of Norma and how he’d failed the only person who’d ever believed he could amount to anything. He also thought about his brother who’d betrayed him before disappearing. That last one kept him in a foul mood as he pulled on a T-shirt and running shoes. He needed to clear his head.
After half an hour of sprinting, Hank found himself on the town’s main street. A grocer sat across from Callahan’s General Store, while the rest of the street was littered with antique and craft stores. He headed toward the grocery. If he was already in town, might as well make the most of it. Standing on the front stoop, he paused to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his face.
“Hank Morrison.” A familiar voice made Hank turn. “So, the rumors are true. You really are back.”
“Charlie Jefferson,” he said, eyeing his former friend. “It’s been a while.”
Nearly a decade, to be precise. Since moving back to Redwood, Hank had kept mostly to himself. He’d made no attempt to stay close to the friends he’d had in high school—mostly other football players—but he should have known he couldn’t avoid all of his former classmates forever. Red
wood was too small for that.
“I heard you’re running The Lakeside. I’ve been meaning to stop by and say hello.” Charlie shuffled from one foot to the other, smiling hesitantly. He still had the same baby face that never quite matched his large frame.
Strange that they were making small talk like everything was fine when the last time they’d been in the same room, Hank had beaten the shit out of him.
“Well if you’re ever passing by…” Hank eyed the entrance of the store, trying to plan his escape.
Charlie seemed to take the hint. “Right. I’ll let you get on with your day. It was good seeing you.” He smiled again, such an uncharacteristic look for the kid who used to cause mischief in his youth.
“Yeah, see you.” He waved and then turned and walked into the grocery store.
Grabbing a basket, Hank wandered up and down the aisles, trying to remember what he’d come in for. Seeing Charlie had thrown him for a loop and stirred up all sorts of memories he’d hoped he’d buried for good. Memories of Aunt Norma, football, summers by the lake. And Alex.
Alex was the entire reason Hank and Charlie weren’t friends anymore—the reason Hank had beaten Charlie until the boy had two black eyes and a broken nose. They’d been swimming at the lake—Hank, Charlie, and some other boys from the football team—when Alex showed up. He must have been waiting for Hazel or something, but he was alone, and that was all the invitation Charlie needed to start harassing him. When Alex hadn’t responded the way Charlie and the others felt was appropriate, their taunts had grown worse. And then they’d started throwing rocks.
