It’s Ashley. She’s stumbling a bit but laughing, and I smile in spite of myself. “I’m here,” I say. “Straight ahead. Keep coming.”
When she’s about ten feet away she can finally make me out, and her face splits into a wide grin. I can see the white glow of her perfectly straight teeth. “There you are!” Ashley wraps me in a boozy hug and gives my cheek a sloppy kiss.
“Seems like you’ve been here a while.”
“I tried to text you,” she accuses, “but you didn’t answer.”
I shrug and allow her to lead me toward the bonfire. Or maybe I’m leading her. Ashley has her arm slung over my shoulder and is hanging on for dear life.
“Good party?” I ask, slipping my arm around her waist when the earth dips below us and she pitches.
“The best.”
I know exactly what that means. Sullivan is here. My heart gives an annoying little tingle.
“You know what you need?” I tell Ashley. “A nice guy.”
“I don’t want a nice guy.”
It’s hard not to be irritated at her pigheadedness, but then I’m wrung out at the memory of just how unexpectedly nice Sullivan is. He does possess a certain infectious charm. And even knowing what I now know about Cal Murphy and the Tates’ potentially unethical farming practices, my pulse still sprints at the thought of seeing him tonight.
Of course, he’s the first person I see when we enter the warm glow around the fire. Sullivan is facing us, watching us as if he’s been waiting for this exact moment. Ashley notices, too, and I can feel every inch of her body tense.
“He’s looking at me!” she whispers, but loudly and clumsily.
I bite my lip, considering. But then, before I can fully weigh the consequences, I squeeze my eyes shut and blurt: “What if he’s not?”
It’s a bold thing to say, one step shy of a confession, and when I dare to look at her again, Ashley is stone-faced. Then all at once a smile lights up her face and she laughs. “Come with me!” she begs, as if I haven’t said anything at all. As if it’s ridiculous to imagine that he would have eyes for anyone but her.
“You go,” I sigh. “I’d just be a third wheel.”
“But what will I say?”
“Be yourself,” I tell her. “You’re amazing, Ashley. He’d be crazy not to fall for you.” It’s what she wants to hear, and she giggles.
My stomach twists as I watch her walk away. Partly because she’s my friend and I love her, and partly because I’m remembering how easy it was to talk to Sullivan all the way to Munroe and back. The puppy squirmed in my lap and licked every square inch of my hands and my arms, all the way up to the cuff of my T-shirt. And every once in a while, Sullivan reached over to tug on the puppy’s velvety ears. It was subconscious, a gesture of affection, and when he lifted the puppy from my arms to deliver him to his new family, Sullivan buried his own face in all that golden fur and said goodbye.
Damn him for turning out to be a decent human being.
Intentionally positioning myself directly across from where Sullivan and Ashley are talking with their heads bent toward each other, I accept a can of beer and strike up conversations with whoever’s nearby.
* * *
I don’t know what time it is when Phil decides to throw a few more pallets on the fire, but it takes us all by surprise. The sparks detonate ashes and cinders on everyone standing nearby, and, shaking a burning ember off the sleeve of my shirt, I decide I’ve had more than enough.
I scan the crowd for Jonathan, hoping I can convince him to call it a night even though he was clearly eager to come. Not to mention furious with me. My happiness is going to be at the very bottom of his priority list. But it doesn’t seem to matter anyway, because after circling the now raging fire twice, I can’t find Jonathan anywhere. Sullivan and Ashley are also missing, and I have to stomp down a wave of self-pity. They’ve left me here.
Almost immediately, I shift from feeling jilted to annoyed. Jonathan has been changing in the last several months, and it’s not fair for him to pin all his frustrations on me. He’s keeping me in the dark, and then holding me accountable for things that I don’t know. That I can’t possibly know. It was low of him to take me here and then abandon me to my own devices as punishment. For what? By the time I decide to stalk back to where he parked the truck, I’m in a foul mood.
Heading away from the bonfire proves much more difficult than walking toward it. Beyond the light cast by the flames, the night is black as spilled ink. There’s no moon, and though the Milky Way is a silver ribbon in the sky, it’s not enough to illuminate my way. I squint in the darkness, willing my eyes to adjust as I stumble along in the tall grass. I wish I had a flashlight.
“June?”
For the second time tonight, I hear my name in the void. But this time, it’s not Ashley.
“Jonathan?” I call back.
There’s a shuffle in the shadows, a curse and the bark of a laugh, and then Sullivan materializes in front of me. His silhouette is shrouded in darkness, and I’m glad it’s too black for him to see my expression. I feel quite sure it’s a complicated mix of aversion and raw, unwelcome attraction.
“Have you seen my brother?” I ask abruptly, crossing my arms over my chest as if to ward him off.
“He left. Maybe twenty minutes ago? Took Ashley home.”
“What a gentleman,” I sigh. I want to ask Sullivan why he didn’t take Ashley home, but I’m too irritated to care. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Ride home with Callum.”
Callum is one of Jonathan’s friends who lives just a couple of miles past our farm. I’ve known him since he was a curly-haired toddler. “Okay,” I say. “Have you seen him?”
“Couple minutes ago. He left.” Sullivan is enjoying this.
“Stop messing with me. I’m not in the mood.”
“I can see that. Come on, let me take you home.”
I wonder if he planned this, but that seems far-fetched. I’m sure Jonathan didn’t need any convincing when it became clear that Ashley needed a ride home—he’s always been chivalrous.
“Fine,” I say, because I don’t have any other choice. The butterfly feeling in my chest has dissipated, and I follow Sullivan without pause.
His truck still smells faintly of puppy. I’m about to comment on it when I realize that Sullivan hasn’t turned over the engine. We’re sitting in the unyielding darkness, alone, and when I turn to Sullivan, he’s facing me.
“I need to get home,” I say preemptively. “I have church in the morning.”
“Me too.”
This surprises me a little. I didn’t realize the Tates were churchgoing. I wonder where they attend. I don’t have a chance to ask him, though, because Sullivan slides his hand across the console and grazes the edge of my hand where it rests on the seat. I catch my breath, ready to pull away, but he hooks his pinky through mine and hangs on tight. I’m shocked. I wonder if Jonathan told him, if there’s some way that he can know what this gesture means to me, how important it is.
“Sullivan—”
“Just listen,” he says. “I know you don’t trust me. I know Jonathan is warning you away.”
“It’s—”
He squeezes my pinky to stop me. “And I need you to know, June, it’s never going to happen with Ashley. Like, not ever.”
Still. “Sullivan, she’s my best friend.”
“That’s why I let her down easy tonight.”