Page 6 of Salvation (Clover-Hills #1)
Blake
A fter taking a shower and getting little to no sleep due to the unease of being back home, I quietly make my way downstairs.
As much as I’d love to stay cooped up in a bed all day, my old bedroom does little to bring me any comfort.
My therapist back in the city often told me how important it was to just get out, and it’s something I do my best to stick by.
Going for a walk, reading a book in the park, grabbing a coffee, whatever it may be, it keeps you busy and reminds you to live , not just survive.
Plus, avoiding town and all its close-knit people will be nearly impossible to accomplish, so why not dive in headfirst?
I made a note on the drive through town to stop in at Bell’s and to surprise Whitney, so I might as well start there. “Mom, I think I’m going to–"
I pause in the doorway of the kitchen when I see that my mom is not alone.
“Hun, Wes is here!" My mom exclaims, sounding way too chipper.
Dive in headfirst indeed.
My mind must be short-circuiting because that is not the Wesley I remember.
Long, thick nose on his stupidly symmetrical face .
Cropped chestnut hair. Broad, tan shoulders that fill out his crisp white t-shirt.
Black ink of all shapes and sizes runs up one of his arms and peeks up over his shoulder blade.
Light stubble litters his strong jawline, and I can almost feel the slight burn it would leave between my–
Nope. Not going there.
The only thing I recognize before me are those cerulean blue eyes, but what I last remember as a pimply, scrawny teenage boy now screams pure man.
Not a hint of that little boy I grew up with.
Not the boy who used to chase me around with dead garden snakes and wads of mud he’d meticulously use to paint my bright, blonde strands a muddy brown.
Not the teenager who held me under the stars the night before I left him and everything else in this town behind.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about running into Wes, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so soon. I was hoping I’d have more time. And a plan, to sort out everything I need and want to say. Heart slamming in my chest, I squeak out a, “Hi.”
He flashes me a smile that’s anything but warm.
God, even his teeth are perfect.
“Blake.” Just one word, but it's low and slips out with a breath he doesn't mean to give me. The way his jaw ticks, tight like he's just swallowed something sour, makes my stomach twist.
“I didn’t realize you were back in town,” he adds, letting his gaze rake over my body.
“I-I didn’t tell anyone,” I say, crossing my arms and pushing down the urge to squirm under his hard stare. “Wasn’t planning on coming back, I guess.”
He responds with a short nod and a clipped, “Well, then. I better get going. Just wanted to drop those off.”
My eyes land on the muffins taking up half of our kitchen counter. Who the hell needs that many muffins?
“Oh, yes! The bar. Blake, why don’t you go with? You have to see what he’s done with the place,” Mom interjects.
Brown eyes meet blue.
“Buddies’ Bar?” I ask, feeling a wave of nostalgia I wasn't prepared for.
Another nod.
“I didn’t realize he left it to you,” I respond, unsure of what else to say.
He shrugs, “Can’t imagine you would’ve heard about it in New York City.”
Ouch. Okay. Suppose I deserved that.
Buddies’ is his dad’s bar . Was his dad’s bar.
Ben asked us one day what he should call it, so we had picked Buddie, and it just stuck.
I can’t remember why we agreed on that one, but he loved it.
And soon, it became the town’s nickname for Ben.
Everyone called him Buddie, and he even named the family ranch after it.
We often spent hours at the bar when we were younger, playing pool or helping clean-up for free ice cream that his dad would bribe us with (without telling our moms, of course). My heart cracks a little at the memories.
Hell-bent on breaking the growing tension, my mom claps her hands together, “On that note, you two should really get going. Don’t wanna piss off the regulars by keeping them waiting!”
Screw this. My therapist was wrong. I’m definitely better off staying in bed. “Mom, I don’t think that’s a good idea –"
“Nonsense.” She cut me off. “I need to run some errands anyways, and I’m sure Wesley will be more than happy to have you tag along. It’ll be just like old times. I’ll pick you up before dinner. Maybe it’ll give you a chance to explore the rest of the town, too.”
I go to protest, but one look from her has me snapping my mouth shut. I should have known, even before landing in this godforsaken town, that my mother would meddle with something so broken. I internally berate myself for not getting a rental car the minute the plane touched down.
I don’t look at Wesley, but with a gesture of my hand, I say, “Lead the way.”