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CHAPTER SIX

Emory

We picked the wrong night to meet up at Sauced to plan our ten-year reunion. The whole football team and their boosters packed into the red vinyl booths that ran around the edge of the pizza parlor, their voices and screams of laughter echoing through the place.

We’d been forced to crowd around a table in the center of the restaurant.

Todd Elliott, who was a football quarterback our senior year, grinned. “This is perfect. It’s like being back in high school.” He sighed. “Those days were the best.”

Sasha Cunningham rolled her eyes. “Only you would think being back in high school was a good thing.”

“What? They’re called the best years of your life for a reason.” He paused. “Unless you’re like Emory the moneyman and you’ve got nothing but good days ahead.”

“Lucky me,” I murmured.

This was the last place I wanted to be tonight. I’d spent the afternoon poring over the Forrester loan paperwork, hoping to find some loophole, a small piece of leverage that would mean I didn’t have to be the bearer of bad news.

But it was airtight. Old man Forrester had taken out a line of equity, missed payments, gotten a deferral, then failed to meet the extended deadline too. There was no avoiding paying the piper now.

I’d put off calling the Forresters until the last possible minute—and then I’d only gotten voicemail. I couldn’t drop the bomb that way. The only thing worse than telling Gray to his face would be blurting out the whole thing in a message like an insensitive asshole.

So I’d merely asked to set up an appointment to discuss their loan paperwork.

Cowardly? Yes. Absolutely. But just like them, eventually, I’d have to pay the piper.

I wasn’t really in the mood to be social, much less reminisce about the good old high school days. It wasn’t that I hadn’t liked high school. But the memories of those days were tight and itchy, like a sweater that no longer fit.

I took a long drink from my beer while Todd and Sasha bickered. They were total opposites, Sasha a jaded divorcee who worked in the office at the school and thus had no choice but to be here, and Todd an enthusiastic volunteer eager to relive his glory days—but then when your current days involved digging in people’s sewer lines, who could blame him?

“I’m going to check on the pizza order,” Sasha said with a huff, pushing back from the table.

“I’ll go with you,” Todd said. “We need another pitcher of beer.”

“Right, because more alcohol will make this less excruciating.” She paused. “Actually, that might be the first good idea you’ve had all night.”

“The Homecoming parade float was a good idea!”

“With me in a cheerleader’s outfit? I wasn’t even a cheerleader!”

They carried on arguing as they made their way to the front counter.

Marty leaned in. “I give them three weeks before they’re fucking over this table.”

“TMI,” I choked out.

He grinned, never one bothered by the idea of decorum. “Hey, I call it like I see it. And I see fucking in their future.”

“Oh, so you’re a psychic now,” Allison said from his other side. “Good to know.”

“Would you like to sit next to your fiancé?” he asked sweetly. “I hate to separate you lovebirds?—”

I kicked his right ankle. Allison stepped on his left foot.

“Ow,” he complained. “You two are perfect for each other. Abusive and cruel.”

“Stop feeding the rumors.”

Marty was my closest friend from high school—and one who knew that Allison and I would never get together again. He just liked to stir shit up.

He turned to Allison with a grin. “Hey, you can make out with me and put an end to those rumors right now.”

She shoved his face in my direction. “Or you can make out with Emory.”

I widened my eyes at her. What the fuck? Were we announcing I was into guys now? That was not the plan.

Marty chuckled, oblivious to my reaction. “Well played, Miss Prom Queen. I guess you’re stuck until one of you gets the balls to hook up with someone else.”

“It’s not that simple. You know her dad’s up for re-election.”

“Yeah, but there’s nothing stopping you from dating,” he said. “Ask Sasha before she gives in to the big jock energy. She crushed on you hard all through high school.”

I grimaced. Nothing against Sasha, but she was not what interested me right now. But how did I explain my tastes had changed from prom queens to tatted-up bad boys on the edge of town?

It didn’t make any sense—even to me.

That wasn’t who I was. I wasn’t a rebel. I was the former class president. The MBA graduate. The vice president at the bank. The next logical step was a wife, then a baby.

And yet…Gray’s face loomed in my mind, a reminder of just how much my sexuality had derailed that plan.

Not that I couldn’t get married eventually, right? I just had to explore this side of myself, resolve the curiosity, and then I could get back to being the Emory Gold everyone knew and loved.

Todd returned with a pitcher of beer. Sasha followed, carrying two large pizzas by herself. Marty jumped up to help her, moving so quickly I thought he might sprain something.

I exchanged a look with Allison. Perhaps Marty’s psychic prediction was actually projection. He clearly wanted to jump Sasha’s bones.

I leaned over. “You seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Uh-huh.” Allison sent me an evil smile. “Should we play matchmaker so everyone starts gossiping about them instead of us?”

I chuckled. “You’re a genius.”

She flipped her hair. “Thank you, darling.”

Marty put one of the pizzas on the table, then retook his seat between us.

“A little room, please?” He elbowed me to shove over. “And you wonder why people think you two are about to tie the knot.”

“I’ll tie a knot around your neck,” Allison singsonged.

“Kinky,” he said.

“Okay, let’s get on with this,” I said. “I’ve got work in the morning, and I’m sure you’ve all got better things to do with your time.”

“Not really,” Todd said. “I’m just gonna hit the bar after this. You all wanna go?”

“No thanks,” Allison said. “I also have work.”

“Me too,” Marty said.

“I could go for a drink,” Sasha said.

“But what the hell?” Marty added with a chuckle. “Could be fun.”

“You poor schmuck,” I muttered.

“I know,” he said under his breath. “Kill me now.”

“So, I was thinking the parade float was a good idea,” Allison said, surprising me. “I even think Todd donning the uniform would be good.”

“Yes! Knew it was smart. Suck it, Sasha.”

“Uh, maybe don’t say suck it to a woman,” Marty suggested.

Sasha snorted a laugh. “Believe me, I’ve heard worse. Sucked worse too.”

Oh, boy. Things were getting saucy now. Maybe Marty’s prediction hadn’t been so far off the mark.

“I didn’t mean it like that ,” Todd said, backpedaling fast.

“Anyway,” Allison said loudly to regain their focus. “I was thinking we should represent a lot of different types of students. The reunion should be about celebrating all of us, not just the popular kids. And maybe, along with the high school versions of us, some of us could represent our careers now. It could be a display of then and now .”

“Huh. That’s actually a really cool idea. Just a group of us dressed in our student attire, then a group as executives, doctors, plumbers, and farmers?”

“One side of the float could have a banner with the year of our graduation, and the other side with this year?” Sasha suggested.

I nodded. “Okay, that’s an idea to work with. Todd, can you be in charge of figuring out the float construction?”

He looked surprised at being given an important role. “Sure, man. One of my best friends works construction.”

It’s almost as if I knew that. I smiled. “Awesome.”

“Sasha can line up volunteers to be on the float,” Allison added. “Since she works at the school and has access to everyone’s phone numbers.”

“Yay me,” she said.

“I’ll help,” Marty offered. “We can divide and conquer.”

We continued divvying up job duties until we all had something to do. It was still the early stages, so we were mostly lining up venues, figuring out our budget—my job—and recruiting more volunteers.

A server stopped by to take some of our half-empty plates. Jody was a down-to-earth, freckly woman in her forties. “Did I hear you talking about a high school reunion?”

“Yeah, it’s our ten-year one,” Sasha said.

“Oh, lordy, don’t I feel old now? I remember you all coming in here as teenagers.”

She waved a finger from me to Allison. “Some things never change, huh? You two still make the cutest couple.”

“Oh, we’re not?—”

“You know what would just make that reunion so special?” Jody carried on, eyes lighting up. “You two should get engaged! Just think of the stories you could tell your kids.”

“Those would be some stories,” I agreed weakly.

Jody finished clearing our plates and walked off. I slumped back in my chair. Why? Why did everyone want us together so damn badly? We barely even knew Jody, and she was planning our proposal!

“It’s not a bad idea,” Todd said. “Emory could drop to one knee on the float. It’d be romantic.”

“For his high school reunion?” Sasha asked, skeptical. “A little vain, don’t you think? This isn’t about only them.” She flashed me a look. “No offense.”

“None taken. You’re right. This reunion is for everyone, and we have no desire to steal the show.”

Or any desire to get engaged, period, not that anyone listened when we told them.

Shortly after, we called it a night. I boxed up half the uneaten pizza to take home since I’d covered the tab. When you were a Gold in this town, that’s just what everyone expected of you.

Like so much else.

Marty hung back as I signed the receipt.

“Thought you were going to the bar with Todd and Sasha?” I said.

“Yeah, I’ll meet them over there, but it’s probably pointless. I can’t compete with big jock energy.”

“Are you kidding? You’ve got smart guy energy. It’s better than throwing a ball around or digging out sewers. Meaningful, you know?”

“Hey, a proper shitter is invaluable to people,” he joked. “Todd is saving us all our dignity.”

“Fair point.” I pocketed my credit card and picked up the pizza box. “I should get going.”

“Sure, I’ll walk out with you,” he said. “I just wanted to check in. You seemed a little off tonight.”

I sighed. “I hate this high school shit, you know? It just reminds me of how people see me, what they expect. I don’t know.”

“You mean they see the class president and prom king? Mr. Popular. It’s all kind of still true.”

“Doesn’t it bother you, people wanting you to be the same Marty you were ten years ago? Don’t you think we should grow and change, and I don’t know, pursue new things?”

“Well, sure, but Emory, you work for your family’s bank. You haven’t dated anyone since you got back from grad school. They see you and Allison, and you make sense.”

I groaned. “But why? Why does that make sense?”

“Because when haven’t you done what everyone expected? You’re a good guy, Em, but you’re trapped in a box that you built, you know? If you want people to see you differently, you have to actually show them you’re different.”

“Easier said than done,” I muttered.

Marty lingered while I opened the back door of my Audi and slid the pizza box inside. I slammed the door shut and turned to lean against it, arms crossed.

I was pouting, but I couldn’t seem to help it.

“What aren’t you telling me, Emory?” Marty asked. “This is about more than Allison.”

I flicked my tongue over the scabbed cut in the corner of my mouth, then scraped a hand along my stubble, exhaling roughly.

“I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just tired.”

“Come on. What’s up?”

I shook my head. “Just a shitty day at work. You know how much I hate giving out bad news.”

“Yeah. It’s the worst part of the job for you. You hate disappointing people.” He tilted his head. “Which I guess is why this Allison thing bugs you so much, huh?”

I smiled wryly. “Kinda, yeah. It makes me feel like a spineless douche. Like if I could just tell them all to fuck off, I could live my life, but…” I sighed. “Well, you know my parents deserve some happiness.”

“It’s not your job to give it to them.”

I nodded along, agreeing in theory. The problem was, my brother was gone, and I was the only one who could give them anything now.

If I threw their hopes back in their faces, how damn selfish would I be?