Page 9 of Now and Then

Something’s not okay with her tonight. She never drinks like this unless she’s really upset about something. I squeeze her neck gently, reassuring her that I’m here if she needs to talk. Her answering groan is all the confirmation I need.

“So,” I say, turning back to Easton, “How did you and Sutton meet?”

His chest rumbles with a silent laugh. “Actually, we met about . . . twenty minutes ago. Turns out, dating is a real pain these days.”

My body stiffens. “You two are on a date?”

Sutton groans. “No, Hunter. He was stood up and was wallowing. Just so happens I was wallowing too.” Her words are muffled, her head still buried in the crook of her arm. How much tequila has she had?

“That sucks,” I tell Easton. “Dating is a pain in the ass.”

“HA!” Sutton barks. “Says the man who’s got a different girl for every day of the week.”

Easton eyes me, trying to contain his laughter.

Sutton’s comment stings. She and I both know that I haven’t been out with anyone since what happened between us in Colorado. But I don’t want to have that conversation in front of Easton.

The waitress arrives at Rachel and my empty booth. Her arms are loaded with dishes, and she scans the room looking for us.

“I’ll be right back,” I say.

I reach the booth, and Rachel is right behind me. “Got enough food?” I ask her.

“Not nearly enough,” she says.

My eyes drift back to Sutton.

“Go,” Rachel says.

“What?” I say, tearing my eyes from Sutton.

“Go be with Sutton,” she says. She gives me a knowing smile. “I’ve got two eyes and know you want to be with her.”

I forcefully exhale. I could deny it, but we both know she’s right. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I didn’t know she’d be here, and she’s been drinking. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Rachel waves me off. “I get it, Hunter.” She nudges her elbow into my ribs. “Besides”—she gestures at the dishes filling our table—“I have more than enough food to occupy my time.” She slides into the booth. “You’re a really good man, Hunter.”

“Don’t tell anyone.” I smile.

“You should tell her.” Rachel picks up her fork.

“Tell her what?”

“That you love her.”

How do I explain to Rachel that I’ve almost told Sutton those exact words more times than I can count—on her porch playing cards, fishing at our lake, that night in Colorado when everything between us shifted and neither of us has had the guts to say why.

But almost has always felt safer than risking losing her altogether.

“How did you know—”

“Oh, please.” She smiles. “Everyone knows. This town’s been abuzz with the rumor of Sutton and Hunter for years.”

“Great. I’m sure she’d love to know the status of us is part of the town’s gossip.”

“She loves you too. Anyone who’s around you both can see it clear as day.”

I tuck my hands into the front pockets of my jeans, rocking back on my heels. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure if Sutton will ever actually let me love her.”