One Look: A grumpy, single dad small town romance(81)

“Thanks, I—”

“Oh!” Eliza cut in, leaning forward. “They’re taking more pictures. Quick, pretend I said something funny!”

I tossed my chin up and faked a laugh as Chase’s arm slid behind my back. I looked around, and once it seemed like the group of girls had left, my smile slid from my face and I scooted toward the center of the booth.

“See.” Eliza winked at me. “What did I say? A natural.”

“Is it always like this? People recognizing you and taking pictures wherever you go?”

“If you’re lucky.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “I heard Rebecca Tate started paying paparazzi to follow her around. How sad is that?”

Chase and Eliza had a hearty laugh together.

“That seems exhausting,” I admitted, “to be on all the time.” I thought about how many times I’d run to the grocery store in Outtatowner with no makeup on, wearing Wyatt’s gray sweatpants. No one ever batted an eyelash, and certainly no one was taking my picture. “I’m not sure I could do it.”

Eliza looked at me and smiled sweetly, like we were having a completely different conversation, and I quietly wondered where the cameras were. “Well, you better get used to it. We all want this series to be the next Grey’s Anatomy, to be recognized everywhere and not have to worry about auditioning.”

Chase stretched in the booth. “Dude, I’d love to coast for a while. That’s why I even agreed to a television series in the first place. No more auditions, pick a movie role here and there. It’s the dream.”

I could feel my eyes widening as what they were saying sank in. If this thing took off, and I was written in as a series regular, that would be it. LA would have to become my home during filming, because there was no way I could ever afford to fly back and forth from California to Michigan often enough to make it work.

“Don’t look so scared. Everybody wants this.” Eliza clinked her champagne flute to my now-empty glass. “Welcome to the big leagues.”

The drinks kept coming, the food was divine, and we didn’t pay for a single bite of it. Our entire group was dancing and laughing and having fun, while a single thought ran on a loop in my head: I was finally enough—this should have been perfect.





35





WYATT





This house is too damn quiet.

Sprawled on the couch, I stared at the white ceiling of the living room and mentally noted the spots we had missed when painting. I needed something, anything, to keep me from thinking about Lark and how I’d pushed her to go for this job in the first place.

Summer break was coming to a close, and everything should have been clicking into place. I loved the thrill of a new football season. Everything was new and hopeful as the team had a fresh start with a new season. There was a buzz in the atmosphere—charged.

I felt none of it.

To make matters worse, campus reopened and Michael, Kevin, and Joey loaded up the car and moved back into an off-campus house. They would spend their last couple of weeks with the team, and I could only hope they didn’t get hurt or into trouble. I did my best to give a stern-but-supportive pep talk before they drove back to the city.

Watching them drive away was nothing like when Lark waved her arm out the window and disappeared around the bend in the road.

It was like the life had been sucked out of me when I watched her little gray car drive away. Plus, I refused to let her in on how things were really going here. What was the point? It would only make her feel terrible and second-guess her decision to take the job in the first place.

Her texts were brief but upbeat. I wondered if she was doing the same things as me—putting on a brave face and barely making it through the day.

I sighed again and was contemplating going for a run when a text came through on my phone. Hope leaped in my chest as I snatched the phone off the coffee table. Disappointment flooded me when I saw it wasn’t a message from Lark.

Duke



Heard Kate and Tootie stole Pickle for a girls’ night sleepover. Let me guess, you’re sitting alone and miserable? Crying yourself to sleep?





He wasn’t too far off, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

Yes. Doing whatever the hell I want is really an inconvenience.





Duke



Meet Beckett and me at the Grudge. Have a beer.





I didn’t have a reason not to go, other than to sit in the dark and feel sorry for myself, so I sent him a quick reply and changed my clothes.

Tourist season had been in full swing for a while now, so the divide between the Sullivans and Kings was less apparent inside the bar. I scanned the unofficial Sullivan side and raised my chin after I spotted Duke leaned against the back bar with his friend Beckett. When I walked up, he slid a beer bottle in my direction.

“Thanks.”

“Hey, Beckett.” I shook his hand. “Good to see you again.”

Duke took a pull of his beer and rested his forearms on the bar. “Kate’s gonna be a problem.”

My brows knitted together. “Problem?”

Duke shook his head and sighed. “Surprised you haven’t already heard about the one-sided shouting match that happened over at the house. Our sister is less than thrilled with our choice in contractors.” He tipped his beer toward Beckett.