and I can’t help but laugh. Some of my tension falls away.
I’m being ridiculous. Dina isn’t Duke, and I’m not helpless.
“Fine,” I groan, and make a show of taking a deep breath.
“Yaaay,” she chortles and throws her arms around me.
“The food better be spectacular.” I warn as I follow her through the maze of cars to the building.
“My parents ate here once, and they loved it. And since I’m driving, you’re going to get so drunk that will make everything taste amazing. It’ll be like an early bachelorette party.”
I scoff. “No way. I don’t really drink and we haven’t even set a date. The wedding is ages away.”
We get to the sidewalk and stop under one of the street light like fixtures to take stock of our feet. Mine are covered in broken shards of damp grass and my toes are freckled with splatters of mud.
Up close the building looks even smaller. I look back at the parking lot. There are a lot of people here. They’ve got to be violating the fire code.
“Ugh, this is terrible,” I say and try to wipe as much dirt off my feet as I can with my hands.
“Why do you sound relieved that won’t be getting married for ages?” Dina’s question catches me off guard and also immediately puts me on the defensive.
I sigh impatiently.
“Because it gives me time to plan. Why else?”
“You tell me why else,” she says and even though she’s smiling, her eyes are assessing and full of challenge.
I can’t hold her gaze. “Dina—”
“You know what? Forget it. Let’s just have fun tonight. We both need it.”
She heads up the side of the building to the door and I slip my shoes back on and follow her in grateful silence.
The cavernously large restaurant, as I suspected, is packed with people. They’re crammed around dozens of tables that dot the room. There’s a bar in the corner and a small stage up front with a mic and a monitor for the lyrics behind it.
Some of the diners are singing along with the woman on stage who’s belting out an off-key rendition of Beyoncé’s Irreplaceable. A few of them heckle her. But she gives as good as she gets and they laugh when she throws them a good natured middle finger.
They’re having a chaotic good time. There’s nothing sinister here. It might actually be fun. I push aside my reluctance and follow Dina to a small table close to the stage.
“I’ll go to the bar and order us some drinks and burgers.” Dina says as soon as we sit down.
“Don’t they have table service here?” I ask.
“Of course they do, it’s just more fun and you can flirt with the bartender. Come on! You can experience your first dive bar up close and personal.”
I glance at the bar and then at my mud streaked fingers.
“I need to wash my hands.”
Dina glances over her shoulder, her sleek jet black ponytail swings when she shakes her head at something. She turns back with a look of determination on her face.
“There’s a line for the bathroom. Let’s go to the bar. You can use a napkin. Come on. A little mud never hurt anyone, right?” As if to demonstrate her point, she takes my hand in hers and pulls me toward the bar.
We’re on our way back to our table, drinks in hand when stops so abruptly that I crash into the back of her. My drink splatters on the front of my pink blouse.
“Dina what in the world?”
She grabs my arm and points to our right. “Oh my God. Look at the ass on Mr. Tall Dark and Sexy AF.”
I should have known it was guy. Dina has always been boy crazy. I let out a long suffering sigh, and turn my head to look.
My drink slips out of my hand.
If it makes a sound when it crashes to the ground, I don’t hear it. I’m vaguely aware of a shriek, and the splashes of cold liquid against my leg.
But the loud whoosh of blood in my ears as it tries to keep pace with my heart drowns out everything else.
It’s him.
The back of him, anyway. But there’s no question that it’s Carter.
3
JUST LIKE THAT
BETH
His dark hair is longer, and curls around the collar of his bright green polo neck shirt. I’ve drawn those unruly waves more times than I can count.
The wide span of his strong shoulders stretch the white cotton of his shirt. The short sleeves expose the lean, defined muscles of