It was after eight when we got back to Harden, and the dinner crowd had died down, not that there was much of one in this town. Most of the places to eat were fast food, and the few real restaurants only opened on weekends. I pulled into the parking lot of Starla’s Diner, better known as the Diner to the locals. I didn’t have a clue where the name came from since there was no Starla that I was aware of, and since there wasn’t another diner in town, no one used the actual name to reference it.

“This place is so quaint.” Peyton grinned from ear to ear when she saw the fifties décor. It wasn’t intended to be retro; the place was just old.

I led them to a booth in the back and slid in. Peyton took the other side, and Beau sat next to her with a dopey grin. I kicked him under the table to quietly tell him to knock that shit off. He took it upon himself to wail like a dog at a full moon.

“What the hell, Lee? That hurt.”

“Sorry, my foot slipped.” He knew me well enough to decipher the warning written on my face.

If he didn’t want people to think he was the one who’d been shady in the whole wedding snafu, he needed to keep his schoolgirl crush on the down-low. That was a quick way to destroy his reputation in this town. As it stood, Beau Chastain hung the moon, but it wouldn’t take much to bring that glass house crashing down where he was no longer the victim.

“What kind of food do they serve here?” Peyton’s blue eyes shone with curiosity. I imagined it was how I’d approach everything if I were suddenly thrown into New York City.

“Meat and three.”

She stared at me, perplexed. “I’m sorry, what?”

Beau pulled the menu out of the holder next to the wall to explain the process of picking a protein and sides. Laughter tickled my tongue, listening to him make suggestions about which of the lower calorie foods were worth eating. Really, none of this crap was low-cal or diet friendly. It was all laced with fatback and grease; that’s what made it good.

“What are you laughing about?” Beau rolled his eyes, proving how perturbed he was that I’d interrupted his game. He had no game; I wondered how he’d ever gotten a date, much less a fiancée.

Ignoring his evil stare, I focused on the girl sitting across the booth. “Peyton, there’s nothing on the menu that won’t taste good. There’s also nothing on the menu that won’t destroy a diet. Get what you want and regret it tomorrow.”

“Hey, guys.” Verna shuffled over from another table without taking her eyes off her order pad. The second she did, she caught sight of Beau and about knocked him over pulling him out of the booth. “Oh my gosh, Beau! I heard you were in town and wondered if I’d get to see you.” Her Southern accent became more prominent with her excitement. She hugged him tightly and swayed from side to side.

Beau’s eyes pleaded for me to save him, but I just shook my head and grinned.

“I’m sorry to hear about…you know.” She didn’t say, “bless your heart,” even though it was written all over her face. Women in the South used that phrase to describe a range of emotions, and I’d always found it humorous.

Had a bad day? Bless your heart. Built an orphanage for homeless children? Bless your heart. Won the lottery? Bless your heart. It was as versatile as the word fuck and could literally mean the same thing, depending on the inflection used to say it.

“It’s good to see you too, Verna.” He managed to break free from her grasp and returned to his seat next to Peyton. “Oh, Verna, this is Peyton Holstein. She’s in town for a few days from New York.”

“Did you fly in for the wedding, too? There’ve been a ton of new faces in here the last couple of days. It’s been crazy busy, but the tips are awesome, so I can’t complain.” Verna was a bit of a talker. She’d also dated Bodie somewhere along the way—which his parents hated, and also why he’d kept her around.

“Sister of the bride,” Peyton confirmed.

“Yikes. What are you doing with the likes of these two?” She chewed her gum with ladylike grace and cocked her hip to the side. When she tucked her pen behind her ear, we were in trouble.

“Trying to eat dinner,” I answered for her. Peyton was in over her head with this one. “You mind if we order?”

She reached up to grab the pen and brought her pad up to write. “Of course not, sugar. What’ll it be?” Verna wasn’t easily offended, and she’d dealt with my clipped tongue for years.

“Roast beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, and cabbage. Roll, no cornbread, and extra gravy on the meat and potatoes. And tea.”

“Got it. What about you, Beau?”

“Hamburger steak, mac and cheese, peas, and blueberry cobbler. Roll. And Coke.”

“Peyton?” Verna wrote furiously with the pad about three inches from her face.

“Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, fried okra, and creamed corn. Cornbread. And tea.” She tucked the menu into the holder. “Oh, and can I get a side of gravy?”

“Sure thing.” Verna chomped her gum with her mouth wide open a couple more times and then left to place our order with the grill.

My mouth hung open in shock. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard.

Peyton chuckled, it wasn’t a laugh so much as humor coming out at the same time she asked, “What? I like to eat.”

We didn’t see much of that around here. Far be it from me to judge. If Peyton could pack away that kind of food and stay as thin as she was, more power to her. I was a fan of girls with an appetite. “Me too.” The only other female I’d seen order that way was Masyn, although she never finished what she ordered and would scoot the leftovers across the table for me.

“Don’t get all mopey.” Beau needed to keep his mouth shut. It didn’t matter that he could read my thoughts and knew they’d turned to Masyn; that wasn’t a topic open for discussion with Peyton around.

“I don’t mope.”

“What would you be moping about? Dinner?” she asked, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of us.

I wasn’t interested in dissecting this shit, much less in public. “Nothing. Can we drop it?”

I’d never been so happy to see Verna deliver three drinks. She passed out silverware, napkins, and straws, and broke up the discussion we didn’t need to have. Peyton grabbed a straw, unwrapped it, and stuck it in her tea.

She coughed into her hand, nearly choking. “Holy crap.”

“What’s wrong?” Beau patted her on the back, and again, I nudged him—lighter this time—under the table. “Damn, Lee. Would you quit?” And he went back to playing nursemaid.

“I didn’t realize it would be sweet. Is there actually any tea in there?”

“If you wanted unsweet, why didn’t you tell her?” Beau appeared to have a ton of experience with damsels in distress. He never skipped a beat when he softened his tone and filled it with concern. If anyone we knew witnessed this, he’d have his man card permanently revoked.

“I didn’t know I had to. You have to ask for sweet tea up north. It’s not automatically served.”

I got up, fetched her a glass of unsweetened tea, and took the one she had. This place had the best tea in town. I had no problem swigging it down.

Verna delivered our food shortly after the gagging incident, and again, she wanted to launch into conversation. My patience wore thin, and I tried my best to ignore her. I never understood waitresses who thought people came to restaurants with friends only to ham it up with the person serving the meal. Verna was sweet; I just didn’t want to talk to her while my food got cold.

“Where’s Masyn? I didn’t think you two ever did anything without the other.” Her question was directed at me.

It dawned on me, since the two of us were always together, that no one had ever mentioned it. Now that Masyn had been MIA for a couple of days, everyone looked to me for her whereabouts. Any other time, it wouldn’t have gotten under my skin, but knowing Masyn was avoiding me made every inquiry painful.

I had a mouthful of food—because I came here to eat—so I didn’t answer. And before I swallowed, Verna got called away by another table and lost interest in pulling gossip from our table.

Peyton poked at her okra with her fork and dipped it in the bowl of gravy she’d requested. “Where is Masyn, Lee?”

I shrugged, still eating.

“He hasn’t seen her since she showed up at his house on Saturday while you guys were swimming.”

“Not true.” I washed down my food with some of the amazing sweet tea Peyton had refused. “I saw her at work today.”

“Fine. If you want to split hairs, Lee hasn’t talked to her.”

“I did talk to her. She ignored me. Why are we having this conversation?”

“Aww, she was so sweet on Friday night at the rehearsal dinner. We should all do something tomorrow when you two get off.”

I stopped chewing. Beau put his fork down. And we both gawked at her without saying a word.

“What? I really liked her. I’m only in town a couple more days. It’d be nice to have company while I’m here. There’s only so much I can do in a hotel room to entertain myself.” Peyton picked at her food and studied her plate, but she didn’t put anything in her mouth.

“I can hang out with you,” Beau volunteered entirely too quickly. He might as well hang a sign around his neck that said “Newly single and desperate for attention and human interaction.” He swallowed the bite he’d taken and then retracted and modified his previous proclamation. “Well, I have to go to the lawyer’s office during the day tomorrow, and my mom wants me to start sending back wedding gifts. But I should be free by mid-afternoon.”

I gave it one last try under the table to reel him in.

“Jesus Christ, Lee. What?” The entire restaurant stopped to stare at him. He lowered his voice and made another attempt. “Why the hell do you keep kicking me?”

“Am I missing something?” Poor Peyton. None of this was her fault, but if either of us told her what was going on, she’d feel like it was.

“No,” I answered in an attempt to keep Beau’s mouth closed.

“Masyn has her panties all wadded up,” Beau declared.

Well, it had been worth a shot—too bad Beau was so daft. I wondered if all pretty girls gave him diarrhea of the mouth or just the Holsteins.

“About what?” Her words were inquisitive, not prying. Peyton wasn’t interested in the gossip around Harden; she actually liked us and wanted to be a part of whatever was going on while she was here.

This place generally bustled with people, timers went off, conversations took place all around us—not tonight. It was eerily quiet, even though there were customers everywhere. It was like they all waited for the latest bit of tabloid smut.

I tossed my fork on the plastic plate with a clatter, fisted my hands, and leaned on my forearms. I nearly growled at him when I tried to keep my voice low enough that everyone in town wouldn’t hear what I said. “Damn it, Beau. Can’t you keep your mouth shut? My life is not an open book waiting to be read.”

“What? Peyton asked.”

“Now I’m certain I’ve missed something.” Peyton had indeed missed something…nearly two decades of mine, Beau, and Masyn’s friendship because we’d just met her. She needed all the pieces of our history to understand the issues.

Beau couldn’t help himself. He was enamored with the blonde at his side and wanted to bring her into our fold. “Lee’s harbored feelings for Masyn since tenth grade. And for the first time in six years, she’s acting like a jealous girlfriend.” He continued to talk to Peyton, even though he held my gaze, issuing a challenge. “Instead of capitalizing on it and going to talk to her, he’s hiding out with the two of us while she stews.”

That was it. I was done. I pushed the plate away. And wiping my mouth with a napkin, I leaned back against the booth and folded my arms over my chest. “Is nothing sacred with you, man?”

“Dude, she”—he pointed his thumb at Peyton—“doesn’t live here. What difference does it make? It’s not like she’s going to track Masyn down and tell her all your secrets.”

“Wait, you’ve pined over a girl for six years and never told her?” Thank God, “bless your heart” wasn’t part of her regular vocabulary, or this would be where she said it.

Every time I turned around, something about me surprised Peyton. She had a lot of misconceptions. “Why are you so shocked?”

“I wouldn’t have thought you were that type.” She shrugged one shoulder and went back to picking at her chicken.

People making assumptions about who I was as a person ticked me off, especially when they didn’t know me. “Meaning what?”

“I don’t know. Don’t get defensive. I just assumed you always did the rejecting.” She sighed and leaned back. This was about to turn into a full-blown discussion. “I see how all these girls look at you. The church, Sadler’s, here. It’s not much of a stretch to assume you’re a ‘use ’em and leave ’em’ kind of guy.”

I shook my head and wondered where the hell Verna was when I needed her to inadvertently intervene. “Foliage,” I muttered under my breath.

“What’d you say?” Beau must’ve thought he’d misheard me.

“Foliage. Peyton knows what I’m talking about.” I wasn’t angry, or even put off—people saw what they wanted to, and I couldn’t be upset with her for her ignorance. Peyton hadn’t had the time to see anything beneath the surface.

Beau seemed incensed that he wasn’t privy to the information Peyton and I shared. “Well, I don’t.”

“Trees, dipshit,” I balked at him. “You sat through the same sermon I did when Pastor Fortner spent two hours talking about fig trees and roots. People see the leaves because that’s what’s on the surface to look at. But the life is under the ground, in the dirt, where you have to dig to get to it—in the roots.”

Remorse lined Peyton’s brow. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Lee.”

“I’m not offended.” Although, I was tired of this conversation.

“How the hell does Peyton know what you’re talking about, and I’m lost?” Beau was going to have to let that go.

“Do you love her?” Peyton was bold. She went straight to the heart of the matter. She didn’t pass go, she didn’t collect two hundred dollars, and she wanted the only detail that mattered.

I inhaled deeply through my nose, my chest rose, as did my heart rate. While Peyton and Beau both stared at me, waiting with bated breath, I ran my tongue along my teeth and set my lips in a firm line, debating on whether to answer. “Yes.”

“But you’ve never told her?” Peyton still seemed surprised.

Beau shifted in the booth. “She’s not interested. At least, she hasn’t acted like it—until you rolled into town and Lee’s attention shifted to you.” He treated this like it was the most natural conversation in the world to have with a virtual stranger.

“That’s not true, Peyton. You two were buddy-buddy at the rehearsal dinner. Ignore Beau. The sun and heat must have fried his brain today.”

Beau couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stop talking. “All I know is, she was none too happy to see the two of you walk into Sadler’s holding hands. And her feelings were hurt when Lee danced with you because he won a bet.”

“What? You danced with me just because you won a bet?”

It appeared we were going to hash out the details of everything that took place since Peyton got to Harden. “No, Peyton,” I deadpanned. “I won a bet with Masyn on Friday afternoon…before I ever met you. And my prize was dancing with her on Saturday at Beau’s wedding.”

Her perfectly arched brows drew in, creating a fine line in the center. “But you told me you don’t dance.” Peyton was back to being confused. There were too many years when she wasn’t around for any of this to make sense, and I wasn’t interested in explaining the dynamic.

“He doesn’t. That’s why it was such a big deal to Masyn. But then the wedding got called off, and he danced with you at Sadler’s instead of her. Then he left with you. And later she showed up at his house and you were there. And again, yesterday when you called, we were at her brother’s house, and she stormed out.”

“It doesn’t matter. Peyton, don’t worry about it. I’ll straighten it out. And Beau, you need to shut up.”

Peyton reached across the table and laid her hand on mine. Our eyes met, and the corners of her lips tipped up in a gentle and encouraging smile. “If you love her, then you need to tell her.”

“It’s not that simple. Masyn and I grew up together. She doesn’t see me that way and never has. Telling her won’t do anything other than drive a wedge between us that will end up destroying the friendship. I’d rather have this than nothing.”

“Maybe you’ve never allowed yourself to see that she does see you differently. It sounds like she’s hurt. If she didn’t feel the same way you do or at least have an inkling that she might, then she wouldn’t be acting like a beaten puppy. She’s hiding because she’s hurt.”

“You should go lick her wounds, Lee.” Beau cocked his head, narrowed his eyes, and plastered a shit-eating grin on his lips.

“You’re a dick, dude.”

“What do you have to lose by telling her?” Peyton thought like a chick and talked like a chick, yet clearly she didn’t have the experience of a chick who’d done a lot of rejecting.

“His dignity.” Beau was a barrel of laughter and entertainment this evening. “And his virginity.”

I threw my roll at his head. I tumbled across the table and landed in Peyton’s lap. “Shut up.” It wasn’t a request, nor was it said with any sort of humor behind it. I was at the end of my rope, and if I snapped, Beau would be the one to receive the tongue lashing and possible beatdown.

She held the ball of bread between her fingers and leaned across the table. “You’re a virgin?” Peyton’s shock rang across the table in a church whisper.

“No.”

“Might as well be. The last box of condoms he bought expired six years ago.” He’d just swung the vault door wide open and invited everyone in for a look around.

“Wow, Beau. I’m so glad I saved you from a life of misery. To think, you could be in France with your wife right now. Don’t forget, I’ve helped you bury all your skeletons…but we could easily start digging those up.”

“I’m impressed, Lee, and now I firmly believe you need to leave here and go to her house. Putting this off any longer is only hurting both of you.”

“Peyton, I appreciate the advice. But Masyn isn’t going to talk to me until you’ve gone home. Sorry to be blunt; that’s just how it is.”

“Then I guess you’re just going to have to make her listen if she’s unwilling to talk, huh?” She ripped a piece of bread off the roll—the same one that had bounced off Beau’s head—and stuffed it in her mouth. The gleam in her eyes told me she was up to no good, and with Beau at her side, the two could be dangerous.

“Can we be done with this conversation? Why don’t you tell us about how much fun you’re having dealing with your sister’s crap?” I could play dirty if that’s how they wanted to handle this. “How about you, Beau, having fun with the lawyer?”

Beau wanted to throw me under the bus—I was perfectly capable of reminding them how each of us ended up here, and it had started with my best friend proposing to a bitch.

“Don’t get nasty with Peyton. It’s not her fault you haven’t made a move.”

A glassy glaze washed over her eyes. “Have you really been in love with her since tenth grade?” She held her hand to her chest like it was the sweetest thing she’d ever heard.

I raked my fingers through my hair and then down my face. Peyton’s interest appeared genuine, unlike my asshole of a best friend who was trying to impress a girl he didn’t have a chance in hell of making a relationship with because he’d fucked her sister.

“I can pinpoint the exact day. And yes.”

Beau proceeded to tell Peyton about everything that happened in the locker room and, subsequently, the lunchroom our sophomore year. “It pretty much closed Masyn off to dating for the better part of three years.”

Verna refilled our glasses and brought us the check. She didn’t care if we sat here all night, and if we didn’t get up to leave soon, she’d bring coffee and then dessert. What she didn’t do was interrupt this asinine conversation.

“Did she date after high school?”

I guess I was going to answer her questions regardless. “Not really. She’s gone out a couple of times with a few different guys. Nothing that stuck.” I ran my finger around the top of my glass, thinking about how hard it had been to see her around town with another man over the years.

Beau was distracted by the cellphone in his lap, albeit it didn’t deter him from interjecting, “That’s because the moment they expressed any concern or issue with her relationship with Lee, she’d dump them.” He looked like an idiot talking to his crotch.

“Not true. That never happened. And I would know since I was in town, and fancy pants over there was away at school.”

He hadn’t looked up once. “Yes, and I was the one she called to complain to since she couldn’t tell you.”

“You’ve never told me that.” The conversation shifted away from Peyton and settled between Beau and me.

“So? Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. There are lots of things that she’s told you that you haven’t shared with me. That’s not news.”

If I could reach the damn cellphone, I’d slap it out of his hand like I had the stick of gum. I hated cellphones and how inconsiderate people were with them. “Name one guy she broke up with because of me.”

He couldn’t do it.

“Tommy Morton.” Or maybe he could.

I tried to think back to when they dated. “No, they broke up because she caught him with Melinda Beece.”

“Yes, illustrating his point that guys and girls don’t have platonic friendships.”

“Who else?” I demanded information as though I was entitled to it, all while he continued to mess around with his phone and talked to his lap.

“Devin Callen.”

“They went out twice!”

“Yes, because at the end of the second date, she had him drop her off at your house where she spent the night with her best friend.”

Peyton didn’t even blink as she listened to the two of us go back and forth; she was entirely captivated by our banter. She popped pieces of bread into her mouth like it was popcorn and she was at an evening showing of a box office hit.

I tuned out the sounds of dishes clanking and people chattering around me to hone in on this revelation. “Anyone else?”

“Kyle Perkins, Larson Camp, Greg Davis—”

“She didn’t go on more than three dates with any of those guys.” Arguing with the top of his head pissed me off. “Beau!”

His head jerked up, stunned I’d raised my voice. “Right, because guys don’t like it when the girls that they date have sleepovers with other men. Pull your head out of your ass, Lee. It’s been right there. Open your eyes and see it.”

“Why are you just now bringing this to my attention?” My tone had changed.

Beau was supposed to be my best friend. As my best friend, he should have found a way to let me in on this without violating Masyn’s trust or letting me spend years in silence.

“The opportunity just presented itself.” He slid his phone into his pocket—finally. “Lee, she’d call me late at night after you’d gone to sleep. She never confessed to having feelings for you, only that she wasn’t ever going to give up a friend for a guy. I think she would have said the same thing to anyone who’d told her they didn’t like how much time she spent with me. I wasn’t trying to keep pertinent information from you. But truth be told, unless you’re willing to stop messing around, I don’t think you should tell her.”

I didn’t follow. “Messing around?”

“With other girls.”

This was the kind of thing that irritated me to no end. Beau didn’t even live here, yet he wanted to give me advice on what to do. “I can’t tell you the last time I took a girl out on a date.”

“No, but I bet I can tell you the last time you let one suck your dick in the men’s bathroom at Sadler’s.” And he’d only know that if Masyn told him—not my finer moments.

And with that, I called it a night. I hadn’t done anything wrong, yet having Peyton hear it at the same time I did was a sober dose of reality I wasn’t prepared for. I shouldn’t be concerned with what she thought of me when she was leaving in a couple of days. I just knew the look on her face when we quit talking likely reflected the condition of Masyn’s heart.

And that nearly broke me.