Page 31 of Mom Com

My stomach does a fast flip like it’s trying to warn me about impending danger, but the sensation is immediately dulled with another sip of my drink. And by the time Liv hands me a chalked pool cue, my hesitation and common sense are a distant memory.

Of course, Liv smashes the balls apart artfully, followed by the approving jeers of Matt’s buddies. She sinks two solid balls and one striped. Then proceeds to sink two more solids before yielding the table to Wilder, who returns by pocketing three striped balls himself.

“Damn. Could you two please leave something on the table for the rest of us?” Matt says, then leans toward me to add, “Couple of pool sharks, am I right?”

I give a friendly shrug, my muscles loose and buzzing, stepping up to the table. “Meh. They’ve been like that since always. They once played a game of miniature golf that was so competitive that they got us banned for a year.”

Matt laughs.

And to my surprise, Wilder chimes in. “We were kicked out because Liv was yelling such colorful profanity at me that the family behind us actually left to go pray.”

Liv barks out a laugh. “Mom always said I was gifted.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Wilder agrees. Then he gives her a look written in subtle sibling speak that I would struggle to translate even if I wasn’t three sheets assways in a whiskey barrel, but I’m guessing it equates to something in the realm ofWTF are you two doing here?

I line up my shot, albeit swaying slightly, and sink a solid ball.

“That’s my girl. Hole in one,” Liv says, thoroughly enjoying herself.

Matt chuckles. “Hole in one—that’s actually not a bad nickname for you, Maddi.”

It’s as though someone flipped a switch on the fun. The laughs stop and the energy flatlines. Wilder turns on his friend like he might deck him.

Matt seems to realize his mistake, but before he can get out the wordsI was joking, guys. It was a joke, I cut him off.

“I’ll take it,” I declare, not shrinking from the insult. “Hell of a lot better than hole-in-none, right Matty? I seem to remember a certain story in the girls’ locker room senior year about how you lost your virginity on Jenna’s thigh before she could even get her pants undone?”

Raff laughs so hard and so suddenly that beer sprays out of his mouth and mists the air in front of him. The guys descend into a chorus of taunts. Liv looks my way with a proud nod, but Wilder still appears thoroughly unamused.

“Uh... that did not happen. All lies,” Matt attempts as they chanthole-in-noneat him.

In that moment something changes for me. I knew there was no way I was going to get through this night without some jabs about high school, but I also don’t feel angry and uncomfortable the way I thought I would.

“You’re up, hole-in-none,” Liv says, but before Matt can respond, his friends start howling with laughter. And then I see why—Jenna just walked through the door. Her black leggings are shiny, her sweater is cut in a deep V, showcasing her girls, and her hair is teased in a way that would make Madonna proud.

Matt shakes his head. “Joke’s on you guys. I’m the one that gets to marry that woman. I’m a card-carrying stud.” The idea that they’re engaged makes me smile, and for unknown reasons, I glance momentarily at Wilder.

To my surprise, Wilder not only returns my look, but approaches us, bringing with him his telltale smoky scent that’s so nostalgic I get a flash of us sitting together on his couch in his family’s home library as teens, fire crackling, my legs draped over his lap, and his thumb drawing lazy circles across my palm. Involuntarily, my temperature raises a notch.

“Can I get you each a bottle of water?” he asks, and I find myself blushing at my memory of him.

“No, you cannot. Can I get you a whiskey?” Liv offers.

Wilder laughs. “Some of us have to work at four in the morning.” He glances in my direction.

“I’m actually glad you brought that up, Wilder,” Liv says. “You see, Maddi here told me that you’re planning on working at the bakery full-time for a year... is that right?”

Wilder focuses on his sister, like he’s certain this conversation just took a turn. I, too, stare at Liv, afraid that if I look directly at Wilder, he might pluck knowledge of our ridiculous bet from my thoughts.

“That’s right,” he says calmly, and I’m struck by the déjà vu-ness of it all—him calm and composed, her bold and brazen, exact opposites.

Over Wilder’s shoulder, I see Matt in the process of taking his fiancée up to the bar, pausing our game for the time being.

“But that’s not why you came back to Haverberry, little brother,” Liv says, and I stop fidgeting with my pool cue, snapping to attention.

“No, it’s not,” he replies, his tone questioning like he knows she’s pushing against something she shouldn’t.

My pulse quickens and I find myself searching his face, trying to figure out what mysterious thing Wilder is doing in Haverberry.