“Hell yeah.” He bobs his head. “Teach me how to do that before you go, okay?”
“Sure thing.” I nod to the plentiful selection of taps. “What’s good and local?”
“I assume your drinking is more refined than it was in high school?”
“A little.” I grin because his happiness has always been contagious. “Remember when we got that case of Busch Light and drank it by the river?”
“Those were the days. No Busch Light on tap right now, though. I have a local wheat that’s pretty good, nice and light, kind of like a Blue Moon with a bit of vanilla on the back end.”
“Sounds perfect. Thanks.” I lean against the bar rather than sit, and scan the room. Smithy has a couple of tables for pool—a favorite pastime of mine—a few pinball machines, bookshelves stacked with old board games, and even a Skee-Ball machine by the back hallway. The place isn’t packed, but it’s got a nice crowd for a Tuesday night, and the posters on the wall advertise Thursday night trivia. All in all, Smithy’s is everything we would’ve wanted if we’d been allowed to go to bars when we were seniors.
It’s funny. I always imagined that coming back to Orchid Valley would feel like a high-school reunion and that I’d be constantly surrounded by all the judgmental assholes I escaped when I turned eighteen, but I don’t know most of the people here. I stayed away for years for all the wrong reasons. I should’ve come back sooner—should’ve come back for Brinley even before she found me in Vegas.
“Kace is already waiting in the back,” Smithy says when he comes back with my beer. He hands it to me and tilts his head in that direction before grabbing another two beers—I assume for himself and Kace.
As I weave my way around tables toward the other side of the bar, Kace Matthews spots us and pushes out of his seat, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Mars!” Kace gives me a fist bump before pulling me into a one-armed hug. “Been too fucking long, man.”
“It really has,” I say, taking a seat across from him. “Thanks for meeting up tonight.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” he says. “But I can only stay for one beer, and then I have to head out.”
“No problem.” I shake my head as I look around the bar. “Nothing in this town is like I remember it.”
“Let me guess. You remembered it as a prison full of entitled punks?” Smithy says, plopping into the seat beside me.
“Possibly,” I admit with a grin. “But I never held that against you.”
Kace smirks. “Burn.” He chuckles. “What brings you back?”
I hesitate. Obviously, I’m not going to throw Brinley under the bus by telling everyone in her hometown that while she might be engaged to Julian, she’s married to me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be honest about who I’m here for. Even if I leave out some details. “Honestly, Brinley.”
“I fucking knew it,” Smithy says, smacking a hand on the table. “Damn. Marston and Brinley. You two were epic together.”
I grunt. “I have no idea what that means.”
“Romeo and Juliet, man. Pyramus and Thisbe. Guinevere and Lancelot.”
“So we’re bound to die tragically if we follow our hearts?” I deadpan.
“Right? Epic,” he says, nodding, as if this is something to aspire to. Smithy’s always been half genius, half airhead. It’s comforting to know some things don’t change, though if I had to guess, I’d bet my old friend has upped his daily cannabis consumption since high school.
“You probably know this already,” Kace says, taking his beer from Smithy, “but you’re a few months too late. She’s marrying Julian Hallison.”
“They’re not married yet.” I watch him over the rim of my glass as I take a sip of my beer.
Kace shakes his head. “Does she know why you’re here?”
“She knows.” These guys were my best friends at Orchid Valley High School. Smithy’s a distant Knox cousin, meaning he had a connection to the family without the luxury of the Knox Bourbon money. Because he was always close to Brinley, he knew about our relationship when only a couple of other people did. I worked with Kace and we were friends, but he didn’t find out about it until later—when everything imploded and Brinley begged me to walk away from Orchid Valley and leave her behind. “What do you know about this guy she’s engaged to?”
“Julian is a real-estate guy,” Kace says. “Commercial investment stuff, mostly. You’ve probably seen the Hallison Way signs around town. That’s his company. They buy, sell, remodel, and rent properties in Orchid Valley.”
Smithy rubs his thumb against his index and middle fingers. So Julian has money. Luckily, that doesn’t intimidate me anymore. “He’s been chasing Brinley since he first moved to town, but she’d never been more than just an occasional hookup, no matter how much he tried to impress her. Then, six months ago, suddenly everything changed and they weren’t just a couple—they were looking at engagement rings and talking wedding plans.” He puts his fists on either side of his head, opening them dramatically to indicate his head exploding.