“Gretchen, I don’t know where any of this is coming from,” I interrupt. The abrupt turn our conversation has taken is giving me whiplash. “I mean, yeah, we grew up together and were friends in high school, but I never realized—I didn’t know…I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

Gretchen stares at me, then lowers her head to her hands. “Fuck,” she groans. “I need another drink.”

“I think you’re good,” I say, eyeing her empty glasses. “Let me take you home.”

The waitress suddenly appears again. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Just the check, please,” I respond.

“I told you, it’s on the house.” She smiles at me.

“Uh, right. Okay. Thanks,” I tell her, standing. “Let’s go, Gretchen.”

She still has her head on the table and raises it slowly. She looks confused. And drunk. The only other time I’ve helped a drunk girl was when Viv showed up at a football party, but I don’t feel the same surge of protective possessiveness I felt watching Viv chug whiskey in an effort to avoid talking to me. I just feel exhausted.

“Come on.” I hold out my hand, and she uses it to haul herself to her feet, wobbling unsteadily in the heels she’s wearing.

We make our way to the door, and I’m grateful it’s a slow night. I’m sure there are enough rumors circulating through Fulton about me already. I don’t need to add to the list.

I help Gretchen into the passenger seat of the truck and start driving toward her house. I can feel her eyes on me as I drive along the empty streets.

We’re about halfway to her house when she finally speaks. “It’s because of her, right?

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and exert a little more pressure on the accelerator. “Gretchen, I just don’t think of you that way.”

“But you think of her that way? Vivienne?”

I sigh. “Yes.”

“That figures,” Gretchen replies bitterly. “I think I knew when I saw her in the store with your mom. No girl who looks like that just shows up in Nebraska.”

I grit my teeth at the insinuation I only care about Viv’s looks. “That’s not why I was with her.”

Gretchen snorts. “Sure.”

“I mean it. Am I attracted to her? Yes. But our relationship was about a lot more than that. We just…got each other. One day you’ll meet someone, Gretchen. And you’ll understand. It’s just not me.”

She doesn’t say anything else until I pull up outside her house.

“Thanks for the ride, Jace.” She climbs out of the cab and runs inside.

I continue driving back to the farm, parking my truck in its usual spot and turning off the engine. The house is dark. Mike was planning to go out shortly after I did, and everyone else has clearly gone to bed.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and tap on Sam’s name.

“Hey, what’s up?” he answers.

“I just met up with Gretchen for drinks at Jerry’s,” I inform him.