Page 26 of Thirst For Me
Yes, I look for him. First thing.
Directly across Water Street from the pier, customers are walking into the small grocery store. And on the final corner, across the path that leads from the street to the pier, a ramshackle-looking place calledBev & Bill’s General Store, offering hardware, liquor sales, auto repair, and postal services on its various signs, is open.
There’s not much else to see of the small town from this view but trees, and the start of the main road, Cherry Way, that windsfrom Water Street westbound out of Orchard Cove, eventually meeting others that lead to the highway.
But parked at the curb in front of the pier, behind my van, is my best friend’s car. The door of the pier building, on the street side, is propped open, and I can already hear the music of ROSÉ and Bruno Mars playing inside—bouncy, flirty, and upbeat. Above the door, the building’s name,Pier Seven, is carved into a raw slab of wood, and walking through that door is the most wonderful human being in the world.
My best friend is unmistakable, anywhere on earth. Forever in her rockabilly-pinup-girl era, Sophie has raspberry-streaked dark hair swept up in a pile of curls and wrapped in a bandana, and she wears an effortless denim jumpsuit with her multicolored skate shoes. Seeing her is such a relief for these puffy, bloodshot eyes.
“Soph!” I cry.
She turns, sipping on a reusableCutie Fruitiesmoothie cup. “Si!” She rushes over and gives me a big squeeze of a hug.
“Ergh.” I recoil as the contents of my stomach complain.
She slides her sunglasses off to reveal winged black eyeliner as she eyeballs me carefully. “Are you okay?”
“Not really.” I slip my sunglasses off, too, giving her the full visual.
“I see.” To her credit, she doesn’t recoil in horror. Nowthat’slove.
“I drank alotof gin last night. And alcoholic apple cider. Which, by the way, does not taste like alcohol. Or apples.”
“Can’t wait to try it. Let me guess. The bar?”
“Yeah. The one across the street.”
“I wondered. When I didn’t hear back from you—”
“If I got distracted by the hot bartender?”
Sophie sighs. “You really wouldn’t beyouif you didn’t.”
“Hey. You make it sound like I meet the Hottest Bartender in the Universe on a regular basis.”
She raises an eyebrow, interest piqued. “That hot, huh? Don’t tell me you’re already in love ...”
“Pfft. From here on in, you’re the only one I love.”
I mean it. Sophie Moore is my fucking soulmate. I’d marry her if I could. I mean, sure, neither of us is into women that way and she’s already happily married to Pete, who may actually be the most wonderful male human ever and yada yada, but whatever. Pete knows he has to share his wife with me. She’s the light of my life.
In typical Sophie fashion, she drives this point home while ratcheting up my love for her another impossible few notches by filling me in casually: “Well, most of the heavy lifting has already been done here. The smoothie bar is practically ready to open. Your van is unloaded, et cetera. I’ve had a very productive few hours.”
“Wow. I’m so sorry I’m dragging my ass here so late. How did you get in? And into my van?”
She shrugs. “When I got here this morning, June Spencer was here, waiting.”
I throw up my hands. “Of course she was.”
“She was very nice. And you left your van unlocked.”
“Shit. I did? And nothing was missing?” If I did that in Vancouver, it would’ve been cleaned right out.
“Nope. This town is so sweet! Imagine, a place where you can leave your car unlocked and no one takes a thing,” she muses. “You really made the right choice in coming here.”
“I’m not so sure. I’m halfway convinced June Spencer may in fact be the Antichrist.”
“Hmm. Hiding out in an adorable small town, running a farm and this cute old building on the waterfront? Seems rather charming for the angel of darkness.”
