Page 21
CHAPTER 21
Farren
T he hum of conversation fills the bar, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the rhythmic clink of glasses. This isn’t one of the loud, rowdy spots crawling with college students or tourists. It’s low-key, classy and tucked into a cozy neighborhood near Willa’s house.
I’m the last to arrive, slipping through the door and scanning the room. Mazzy spots me first, waving me over with an enthusiasm that earns her a few curious glances from nearby tables.
“Over here!” Mazzy calls out, scooting over to make room for me in the booth. Her fiery hair catches the dim overhead light, and her bright red lipstick gives her an air of effortless glamour. She’s in a sleek black top and fitted jeans that scream casual but chic.
Willa grins at me over the rim of her wineglass. “We were starting to think you weren’t coming,” she teases, her voice warm. She’s in a soft lavender sweater that complements her fair skin and rich brown hair shot through with golden highlights. The delicate silver necklace she’s wearing glints as light hits it, her gaze sharp and curious.
“Sorry,” I say, sliding into the booth and shrugging out of my jacket. “Lost track of time.”
Mazzy her eyes sparkle with mischief as she props her elbow on the table and rests her chin on her hand. “Doing what? Or should I say, who?”
I groan, sinking into the plush booth. “We’re starting there already?”
“Yes,” Mazzy says, her grin widening like a cat about to pounce. “Now spill. What’s going on with you and North?”
“It’s good,” I say nonchalantly, picking up the menu in front of me. The laminated edges are slightly sticky, and I glance over the selection of cocktails and appetizers to avoid their piercing gazes. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
Mazzy exchanges a look with Willa, who arches an eyebrow. “You’re being cagey. That means there’s more to the story.”
“It means I don’t want to talk about it,” I counter, hiding behind the menu as if it could actually shield me. These ladies have become fast friends since I moved here, and I really have nothing to hide. I guess I just like making them work for it.
“Uh-huh,” Mazzy says, drumming her perfectly manicured nails on the table. “Farren, you’ve spent how many nights at his place now?”
“Four,” I say with my chin lifted. “But I was taking care of him because he was sick.”
“Uh-huh,” Willa drawls, her eyes glimmering with humor. “What about tonight? You staying there or with Rafferty?”
“Does it even matter?” I hedge, enjoying Mazzy’s tiny huff of frustration.
Willa sets her glass down. “It matters because that means you two are getting close and I think that’s lovely. I could tell those sparks between you when we went dogsledding were the real deal.”
“It’s casual,” I insist, fiddling with the corner of the menu. “It’s just convenient. Like going over to his place tonight. Rafferty’s place is farther away and North offered, so…”
“It’s convenient ,” Mazzy says, drawing out the word as though it’s the punch line to an inside joke only she’s in on.
“It is!” I say, my voice rising slightly. A waitress appears at the edge of our booth, a notepad in hand, and I welcome the interruption. “Can we order, please?”
“Sure thing,” the waitress says, smiling brightly. She’s in her early twenties with her hair tied up in a loose bun, a friendly energy about her. “What can I get you ladies?”
“I’ll have another glass of the Riesling,” Willa says, gesturing to her almost-empty glass .
“Same for me,” Mazzy adds, her grin never faltering. “And we’ll take the artichoke dip to start.”
I glance at the menu, still feeling their eyes on me. “I’ll have the Riesling too. And the flatbread.”
The waitress scribbles down our orders and nods. “Got it. I’ll be right back with those drinks.”
As she walks away, Mazzy turns to me, her eyebrows raised expectantly. “Convenient, huh? Sleeping over at his place for four nights. Sharing meals. Showering there. Totally casual.”
“I mean it,” I say, exasperated. “Look, I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. It’s not a big deal.”
Willa tilts her head, her gray eyes boring into mine. “Is that what you really believe, or is that what you’re telling yourself?”
“It’s what it is,” I reply, crossing my arms defensively. My pulse ticks up a notch, but I force myself to keep my voice steady. “We’re having fun. That’s all.”
Mazzy flops back against the booth, draining her wineglass as the waitress returns with a fresh pour. “You can tell us that all you want, but your face says otherwise.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, irritation creeping in.
“It means you’ve got that look,” Mazzy says, winking at Willa. “You’re not just casually seeing him. You like him. ”
I open my mouth to protest, but Willa cuts me off, her voice softer now. “Farren, it’s okay if you do. We’re not saying you have to marry the guy, but you’ve got a good one. Don’t let fear hold you back.”
Mazzy nods. “Exactly. I mean, yeah, dating a hockey player comes with its challenges, but it’s not all bad. I never thought I’d fall for Foster, but here I am, happier than I ever thought I could be.”
“And King?” Willa adds, her face lighting up at the mention of him. “He drives me crazy sometimes, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”
I fidget with my straw, their words sinking in more than I’d like to admit. “It’s not that simple for me.”
“Why not?” Willa asks gently, her gaze steady.
I hesitate, the familiar weight of my past pressing down on me. I never share like this, but as irritating as these ladies can be, I also know that they really care about me. “Let’s just say I had a really bad experience in my formative years. Trust isn’t something I give easily.”
Mazzy reaches across the table, her hand brushing mine. “We’ve all got our baggage, Farren. But sometimes, the right person makes it worth unpacking.”
Before I can respond, Willa’s phone buzzes on the table. She picks it up, her face brightening. “It’s Tempe on FaceTime.”
Mazzy and I scoot closer as Willa taps the screen and positions it on the center of the table so she can see all of us. Tempe’s face fills the frame. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun, and she’s sitting on a bed, propped up with pillows.
“Hey, girls!” Tempe says, her smile wide. “What’s up?”
“We’re just having a ladies’ night,” Willa says. “How’s school?”
“Busy,” Tempe replies, and looks upward to the ceiling. “And I have a really annoying neighbor in the apartment upstairs who seems to do aerobics all the time. Otherwise, it’s all good. I miss you guys, though.”
“We miss you too,” Mazzy says. “And we know Rafferty misses you more than anyone.”
“How’s he doing?” Tempe asks, her expression softened with love and concern. “He says he’s fine, but I’d like an unbiased opinion.”
“He’s fine,” I assure her. “Still grumpy, still Rafferty. But yeah, he misses you a lot. Do you know when you’re going to be able to come home for a visit?”
“Probably not until spring break, but Rafferty’s going to fly here weekend after next. Only for the day and he’s going to charter a private plane.”
“That’s true love,” Willa exclaims.
“And what about you, Farren?” Tempe asks. “Rafferty says things are heating up with you and North.”
I groan as Willa and Mazzy laugh. “Not you too? Why are you ladies so damn nosy? You guys are the worst.”
“Just admit you’re happy,” Tempe teases. “It’s okay, Farren. You deserve it.”
The words hit me, and I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yes, fine. I like him, okay. I like hanging with him and he’s a rock star in bed. Are you happy?”
Utter silence as the ladies exchange looks, and then Mazzy breaks out of the stupor. “Rock star in bed, huh? I think we need details.”
I laugh inwardly, knowing that talking about sex would get them off the notion that I’ve got true love just waiting for me on North’s doorstep. I give them some vague highlights, enough to keep the conversation light and filled with laughter. Tempe fills us in on her classes and by the time the call ends, I relax in the booth, a strange warmth spreading through me. These women—Mazzy, Willa, Tempe—are becoming more than just friends. They’re starting to feel like family. They push me to lower my defenses, and I suspect that’s something I really need in life.
“See?” Mazzy says, nudging me with her elbow. “This is what it’s all about. Love, laughter and a little wine.”
I smile, but my mind drifts to North. I don’t know about love but he sure makes me laugh a lot.
Our food arrives and we talk about our jobs—or at least Mazzy and Willa do. I update them on my job hunting. I order a second glass of wine because I’m taking an Uber to North’s place after, even though he offered to pick me up. It was sweet of him to do so, but by declining, I’m keeping partial walls up.
Mazzy rests her chin on her hand, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. The candlelight on the table flickers, casting a warm glow over her beautiful features. She swirls the wine in her glass absentmindedly, her gaze locked on me, ready to pounce. “I’m going to just ask you point-blank because you have been dancing around it all night. You keep saying it’s all fun and casual, but do you think this could become something serious with North?”
The weight of the question settles over the table and my face flushes. I shift in my seat, the leather of the booth cool and firm against my back. My fingers fidget with the edge of the napkin in front of me, folding and unfolding it as I debate if I should be fully honest with them.
“North is amazing,” I say carefully, my voice steady but guarded. I glance at Mazzy, then Willa, hoping they’ll let it drop, but their expressions make it clear they’re not going to let me off that easily. “He’s what any woman would dream of.”
“But not you?” Willa asks, gentle but firm. Her wineglass sits untouched, her full attention on me.
I take a deep breath, feeling that familiar pressure build. The low hum of conversation and occasional bursts of laughter from nearby tables feel distant, as though we’re in our own little bubble. The wine loosens my inhibitions and my lips.
“I think I’m broken,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. My throat tightens as the words slip out, and I force myself to keep my gaze on the napkin in my hands. “I just can’t open up all the way with men. The minute they get close, I panic and check out. I’ve told North as much, so this isn’t a big secret. He knows my limitations and that I want to keep this casual. I just don’t have any more to give, so no, I don’t know that this could be anything serious.”
The confession hangs in the air like a storm cloud, the only sounds the faint clinking of silverware from another table. My pulse thuds in my ears, and I brace for their responses, for judgment or pity.
Instead, Mazzy shakes her head. “I don’t buy it. You are already more than casual. You took care of the man when he was sick. That means something.”
“No,” I reply with surety. “It—”
“Means that you care,” Willa says softly. “Don’t be ashamed to admit it.”
“Fine,” I say with exasperation, feeling a dam break open due to their relentless needling and forcing me to think deeper than I’ve been letting myself. “I care about him. More than I should. I would have bolted by now on any other man, but for some reason, I haven’t. And I don’t know what it means.”
“It means that this could be real,” Mazzy says.
“Then why do I feel scared and jittery and like I’m about to make a catastrophic mistake?”
“Farren,” she says, her voice losing its usual teasing edge. “We’ve all made mistakes. Every single one of us. But you can’t let fear keep you from something good.”
Her words pierce through my armor, and the sting of unshed tears prickle the corners of my eyes. “Maybe,” I say, still not meeting her gaze.
Willa studies me carefully. “You’re protecting yourself,” she says after a pause, her voice calm but pointed. “And I get that. But sometimes, protecting yourself means you miss out on something worth the risk.”
I exhale slowly, my fingers stilling on the napkin. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?” Mazzy presses. “What are you afraid of?”
I hesitate, my gaze flickering to the window beside us. Outside, the city is alive with glowing streetlights and the faint blur of passing cars. It’s a world that keeps moving, no matter how stuck I feel.
I glance between them, the two women who have somehow become more than just friends. They’ve become confidants, a safe harbor I didn’t know I needed. “I’m afraid of getting hurt, of course. And I guess it is just that simple. ”
Mazzy smiles, a knowing look in her eyes. “It’s never easy. But the best things in life never are.”
The waitress returns, her timing almost comical, breaking the heavy moment with her bright, cheerful energy. “How’s everything tasting so far?” she asks, her notepad in hand as she glances at our half-empty plates.
“Great, thanks,” Willa says. “Could we get another round?”
“Of course,” the waitress chirps, scribbling it down before glancing at me.
As the waitress bustles away, Mazzy takes a sip of her wine, her gaze never leaving mine. “I know it’s scary but you’ve got us. Whatever happens, we’re here for you.”
For the first time in a long time, I feel a flicker of something I’ve almost forgotten how to recognize: hope.
“So,” I ask hesitantly, my voice barely audible over the din of the bar, “what’s it like? Being in love, I mean.”
Mazzy and Willa exchange a look, their expressions softening. It’s not pity but understanding, and for some reason that’s even harder to face.
“It’s not perfect,” Willa says after a moment, her tone thoughtful. “But it’s worth it. Love isn’t about never having problems—it’s about facing them together.”
Mazzy nods, her fingers playing idly with the stem of her wineglass. “For me, it’s about feeling seen. Foster knows me better than anyone, and he loves all of me. Even the parts I don’t always love myself. ”
Their words stir something deep and unfamiliar. I take a sip of my wine, hoping the warmth of it will calm the strange ache blooming within me. “But how do you trust it?” I ask hesitantly. “How do you know it’s real?”
“You don’t always know,” Willa admits, her gaze steady and kind. “Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith. But if it’s the right person, they’ll catch you.”
Mazzy reaches across the table, placing her hand over mine. “And if you fall, you’ll get back up. But you have to give yourself a chance to fall, Farren.”
I swallow hard, unable to look at either of them for fear they’ll see too much. My thumb brushes over the rim of my glass as I consider what they’ve said. A chance to fall. It sounds simple, but the weight of it feels like a mountain pressing down on me.
“I hear you,” I whisper.
Mazzy squeezes my hand gently before letting go. “That’s a start.”
The check arrives, and Willa insists on covering it, brushing off our protests with a wave of her hand. “It’s my treat,” she says firmly. “You two have been my sanity more times than I can count. Let me do this.”
As we step outside, the cool night air wraps around us like a gentle embrace. The streets are quiet, the soft glow of streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. We all ordered Ubers since we’d been drinking.
“You know,” Mazzy says, turning to me with a playful grin, “I think North’s good for you. He’s steady, but not boring. Confident, but not cocky. And from what I’ve seen, he’s crazy about you.”
I roll my eyes, though my cheeks flush at her words. The warmth of their support settles in me like a small flame. “You two are relentless. Give it a rest.”
“We’re also right,” Mazzy says with a wink. “And we’re never going to let up, so get used to it.”
I’m still not sure about that, but I’m willing to consider it. Besides, North is doing the same exact thing to me. And somehow, I’m still hanging around.