Chapter Two

BEING A teacher in a small town meant that Ben Harding’s life was community property. He’d booked the afternoon off work and now he was going for a run, and even though he’d taken a compassionate leave, not a sick day, he knew that any parents who saw him would notice. Couldn’t stay at work with their precious darlings, but had no problem jogging around all over the place. Oh, they wouldn’t say anything. But they’d notice.

So he’d taken the route out into the country rather than going along the river through town as he usually did. He could relax and enjoy nature without fretting about who was watching.

At least he should have been able to, but as he jogged past the cemetery he saw two vehicles off on the far side of the road. Seth would be driving the tow truck, and, yup, there he was, his bushy red beard clear even at a distance. But the other guy… shit, was he a parent? Damn, nice car, and the guy was kind of—

Ben stopped running so suddenly he almost fell over, too stunned to have properly balanced himself through the deceleration. The other guy. Oh.

He wished he’d kept running. Was it too late? If he just started again, if he powered right past them, ignored them both and apologized to Seth later? Could he do that? Or he could turn around—that was more his style, really. He could turn around and run away, and, yeah, that was pathetic but there was no one on the road right then who didn’t already know how pathetic he was.

No, he told himself. How pathetic you were. Totally different. You’re older and wiser now.

He forced himself to walk on, and they stared at him like they were the ones freaking out. Okay, good. He could be the calm one for a change.

He should ignore Liam entirely. That’d be the cool thing to do. Say something casual to Seth, something about a new kind of beer or some sport or some other manly topic, and not even acknowledge that Liam existed. That’d be good.

But he was Ben the Chronically Uncool, so before he knew it he’d staggered halfway across the road and was staring at Liam like he was Bigfoot. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I’m sorry,” Liam said. The last words Ben had heard from him all those years ago, and the first ones now. “My car broke down. Sorry.”

Liam’s car had broken down just outside North Falls, not in the city where he and the car belonged. But Ben wasn’t ready for a deeper conversation, not when he was still in shock just from looking at Liam. “Okay,” he managed. “Okay. I, uh—I’ve got to go.”

“You’re sweaty from the run. You don’t want to get chilled,” Seth said helpfully.

“Right,” Ben agreed. He took two steps, then three, and realized he was walking almost sideways, his gaze still locked on Liam’s face. Looking for—what?

“You’re an asshole,” he said. Not planned, but not a lie.

Liam just stood there. Seth nodded in sage agreement with Ben’s words.

“And what the fuck are you doing here?” Ben demanded, stepping back closer to Liam. “This is—I mean, obviously I don’t own the town, but you have no reason to be here, do you? You were so damn happy to leave this place behind, so what are you doing back?”

Liam still didn’t answer, and Ben fought the urge to push him, grab him, shake him, kick his cheating, lying ass all over the damn road. “Fuck you,” he spat.

Liam actually nodded. But, sure, he’d been pretty damn agreeable all those years ago, too, once he got busted. Sneak around and make a fool of Ben behind his back, but to his face? Oh, he was so, so sorry to Ben’s face.

“Fuck you.”

“This is going much better than I expected,” Seth said with a happy smile.

That reaction made sense, because Liam had betrayed Seth too. They hadn’t been lovers, but they’d been friends, all three of them, and Liam had lied to Seth and destroyed that relationship just as surely as he’d destroyed the one with Ben.

“Nice that he’s got a pretty car,” Ben told Seth. “Nice that the things in his life are valuable.”

And Liam turned away.

He’d been quick, but not quick enough, and Ben felt as if all the hot anger that had been running through his body froze. Not all the way to hard, solid ice, but into slush, slippery and useless. Because Liam had been—

“Can you give me a minute?” Ben asked Seth, and he waited as Seth heard the words, absorbed them, questioned them, and didn’t care for them.

“You sure?” Seth asked, and when Ben nodded, he reluctantly turned and walked toward the far end of the tow truck.

Ben stepped to the side and Liam turned away again, but there was nowhere for him to look, not with Seth off to the left and Ben angling in from the right. He stood still, then lifted his hands quickly to his face, brushed at his eyes, and muttered, “Sorry. That’s—I have no idea what’s going on with that. Allergies or something, hopefully. But it’s not you. That is, it’s not for you to feel bad about.”

“Oh, that’s really generous of you,” Ben sniped, but his heart wasn’t in it. Liam had been crying—was still crying, because the initial scrubbing had removed the first set of tears but there were more coming now, fat and rounded on his golden skin. “What the fuck, Liam?” Suddenly, Ben realized where they were parked. Liam hadn’t—he hadn’t known Terry well enough to care about his death, not this deeply. But there were other people buried in the cemetery, obviously, and one of them must have meant something to Liam. “I’m sorry,” he said. Then, quickly, “For your loss. Not for thinking you’re a fucking asshole. I’m not sorry about that.”

Liam took a deep, shaky breath. “Okay. But to be honest—I don’t have a loss.” Another shaky breath. “Shit, I guess I should have just left that alone, huh? No point dragging you into whatever the hell this is. Sorry. Let’s start again. I just—thank you. For your condolences.”

Condolences he hadn’t needed.

“Dragging me into… what? Seriously, Liam, is there—”

“Everything’s fine,” Liam said, standing up straighter and talking louder. “Just having a weird—I don’t know, let’s call it an artistic moment, okay? Just a weird day. Nothing to worry about, and just a bad set of coincidences that you even found out about it.”

“Well, it’d be a coincidence if we ran into each other in the city, yeah. But, fuck, Liam, when you drive a couple hours away from your house and park just down the street from mine, you’re giving ‘coincidence’ a pretty big helping hand, aren’t you?”

“You never saw me any of the other times.”

“The other—” Ben needed to sit down. Or have a drink. He probably needed to sit down and have a drink. “You’ve been up here before?” It made no sense. Unless…. “Do you want to talk to Uncle Calvin?” It was a fairly random possibility, but the best he could do. And then, unlikely but not impossible, because Uncle Calvin could play his cards pretty close to his chest when he wanted to, “Have you been talking to him before?”

But Liam shook his head. “No. I haven’t come up for any reasons. I just drive sometimes. Jesus, what the hell is going on? Why am I telling you any of this? You don’t want to know this.”

Well, that was true. Mostly. “Right. So—yeah. You’re an asshole, fuck you, and go away.” That was all he needed to say. Except… damn it. “But are you okay? Is there something—not me, but somebody—is there something somebody should do?”

“No, I’m fine.” Even forced, Liam’s smile was still a thing of beauty, and Ben had to make himself look away. “Sorry about whatever that was. Just a strange blip. Everything’s good with me. I’m doing great.”

“Okay.” And Ben was suddenly almost dizzy from it all. Liam Marshall. How many hours had he wasted agonizing about this asshole over the past fifteen years? And now he just showed up out of nowhere, totally unexpected. And totally unwelcome. Ben turned and took a few jogging steps away. “So we’re back to ‘fuck you.’” He took another few steps until he was beside Seth. “See you at Matty’s.”

“Yup,” Seth agreed, and he jerked his head in Liam’s direction. “You want me to do anything here, or not do anything? Maybe punching him, in terms of doing something, or helping him, in terms of not doing something?”

“No. He’s—he’s nothing. Nobody. Just treat him like any other loser trying to use a fancy car to fill a hole in his pathetic life.” Ben instantly felt guilty, remembering Liam’s tears, and then angry because how the hell had he let himself get twisted around so quickly, manipulated into feeling actual guilt because of a few harsh words, after what Liam had done?

“I need to go,” he said quickly, and he took off at a jog that was closer to a sprint, and as he ran he told himself to put it all out of his mind, to let it go, to be glad he’d had a chance at closure and the time to give Liam another “fuck you.”

He tried to forget the tears. No, he did forget them. He banished them from his memory. He’d just had an unexpected encounter with his first love, and that was mind-blowing enough. He wouldn’t let the situation get any stranger, any more complicated.

He’d seen Liam Marshall. What an asshole.

There. That was enough. That was all he’d let himself feel. Liam Marshall was part of the past, and that was where he would damn well stay.