Eight years earlier...

The annual charity event held in the town of Darlington every year is hosted by Loretta herself. There's a huge bake sale and an auction the entire town looks forward to, or so I've heard. This is my first time attending the grand festivity, and when my Dad pulls up outside of her house, we can't even find parking. Cars are littered on the lawn and almost down the entire road before we actually find a spot.

"I heard they're auctioning off a typewriter," my Dad says excitedly. "I'm going to try and win it."

I tease a smile. "Even if it's five hundred dollars?"

He shrugs. "It's for the kids." The cancer society to be exact. Loretta puts all of this effort into doing this, and yet she's still the most feared woman in Darlington. I don't understand it. She may come off cold and harsh to others, but deep down, she has a heart of gold. She's treated me with nothing but respect since I've shown up here, and she single-handedly is the reason Wyatt and I are together in the first place.

Outside, we see the gravel pathway leading up to Loretta's lit up by fairy lights strung from wooden gondolas. Some people are scattered on the front porch drinking beers, but since the January weather is bitter cold, most have opted to remain indoors.

"Wyatt here?" My Dad guesses.

"How'd you know?"

"Please." He rolls his eyes as he holds open the door for me. "You wouldn't have come to this if he weren't here. I know my daughter better than anyone."

I laugh as we both step inside. He's not wrong. I haven't exactly been the best townsperson since coming here. I go to The Starlighter and sometimes the ice cream shop with Wyatt and his friends, but for the most part, I stay back at home or take Dolly on rides in the backyard of Wyatt's farm.

"Hey, Macey!" I whip my head around to see Parker leaning against the banister of Loretta's grand entrance of a staircase. A huge chandelier hangs from the almost twenty-foot ceilings, lighting up the smile on his face.

"Oh, hey Parker." My Dad waves goodbye and wanders through the crowd of people to more than likely get a good seat for the auction, leaving the both of us alone. "Have you seen Wyatt?"

"Uh, yeah. He just went to get a drink." He scans the thick heaps of people. "I can keep you company while you wait for him to get back." There's a strand of black hair that falls into his eyes, but he quickly swipes it away and clears his throat. "Have you tried any of the sweets yet?"

A huge table is lined up with an arrangement of cakes, cupcakes, and pies to the left of us. Shelly, who I've been told is the best baker in town, is seated behind the table in the dining room chatting up a pair of elderly women. "I haven't, but you can sure as hell bet I'm going to."

Parker laughs, and the sound is foreign. It's floaty and gruff and actually causes me to smile. "I think you're gettin' the hang of the southern slang, Macey."

"Me?" I gasp and place a hand over my heart. "No way. I'm always going to be a New York girl at heart. It's where I belong."

"Me too," he says, catching me off guard. "I can't wait to get the hell out of here."

"You're not staying in Darlington?"

"And do what? Hunt and fish for the rest of my life? In case you haven't noticed—" He waves his hand over his outfit which consists of a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a graphic t-shirt. "I don't belong here. I never have."

And just like that, everything clicks. It all falls into place. "So that's why you've been sticking up for me about my fashion dreams? Do Wyatt and them know you're leaving?"

He brings a red solo cup to his lips and takes a long swig of something I'm certain is not soda or water. "No, and they aren't going to until I've packed my bags. They've got a way of convincing people into things, and I'm not gonna get sucked into it. I admire that you're so headstrong and determined to get away from here like me. I want bigger and better things for myself, and Darlington can't offer me any of it."

I feel like adding that there isn't anything wrong with staying here in Darlington, either, but having Parker get pissed at me isn't a way to start the night. When Wyatt takes over the farm he's going to have an incredible life for himself doing something he loves. If that isn't life then I don't know what is.

"Can I take your coat?" He points to the red peacoat I'm wearing, but the gesture feels...intimate.

I shake my head and wrap my arms around myself. "I'm good, thanks. I haven't gotten warmed up enough yet."

Those stone-gray eyes of his continue to linger on mine. When the awkwardness reaches the highest peak, his eyes soften, and I'm praying for Wyatt to come around the corner at any time now, but it's just the soft chatter of the elderly women and Shelly, who aren't paying us any mind. "I didn't stand up for you just because we want the same things out of life, Macey."

I gulp.

Loudly.

And almost like my prayers have been answered, Wyatt comes in from the kitchen holding a solo cup of his own. He realizes he's interrupted something when Parker ticks his jaw and crosses his arms over his chest. I feel as if the two boys in front of me are about to commence a duel for me as the prize like we're in the eighteenth century.

"Everything alright?" Wyatt asks. He looks incredible in a pair of dark-wash jeans, a button-down white shirt, and a backward ball cap. I'm too busy ogling him to answer, but Wyatt seems to answer for both of us and takes my hand. "Want me to buy you something from the bake sale?"

I nod eagerly, desperate to get away from whatever it was Parker was about to confess. Truth be told, I've grown the closest to him out of all of Wyatt's friends. Dylan and Timmy are wild and idiots most of the time, but Wyatt and Parker both carry the maturity and calmness I need to keep me balanced. I didn't realize that by befriending Parker I'd unintentionally lead him on.

Did I flirt with him by accident to make him feel this way? I'm wracking my brain replaying every single interaction between us as Wyatt tugs me toward the table of sweets I so desperately want to devour. "What was he saying to you?" He asks.

"I don't know," I reply honestly. "He hadn't finished his thought until you thankfully showed up."

He's happy I said that. He pulls me close to his side, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as I peruse the table in front of us. I end up picking a red velvet cupcake and three chocolate chip cookies, and after Shelly wraps them all up, she asks Wyatt how his Mom is doing and if he's thinking of entering any horse shows with Dolly this year.

This is what Parker doesn't appreciate enough about this place. Up North, you can't just walk into a shop and recognize someone. You're thrown into thousands of different people from different walks of life every single day. But here in Darlington, you're close to everyone. There's a support system around you every step of the way. I appreciate that Wyatt is loved by so many of the locals. It shows his character.

"Thank you, ma'am." Wyatt holds up the bag of goodies and guides us toward the auction room, which is being held in the overly-sized living room. A gigantic fireplace is spread along the back wall, and rows and rows of chairs seat almost fifty people. We take a few of the remaining chairs in the back row. "If I didn't mention it before, you look beautiful tonight, darlin'."

Christ. That nickname never fails to put my emotions in a tailspin. In seconds, I feel the heat creep up to my cheeks. "Thanks, you do too. Well, not beautiful, but handsome. Not that you aren't beautiful, because you are, but I..."

He chuckles, tucking one of the stray hairs in my face behind my ear. "You're cute when you're flustered."

"Macey and Wyatt, why am I not surprised? Are you two ever not canoodling?" Loretta stands behind us with her arms crossed and rolls her eyes. "I'm startin' to regret settin' y'all up in the first place."

Oh, no. My cheeks are on fire now that the secret is out, but Wyatt seems just as embarrassed. He diverts his eyes to the floor, squeezing my shoulder in an attempt to give me some sort of reassurance.

"Aw, shucks. Didn't mean to embarrass ya. I'm just messin'. Y'all are cuter than a hatch of fresh chicks." She leans over to pinch Wyatt's cheek. "I was wonderin' who'd eventually steal yer' heart. From the looks of it, you won't even need my help for that other favor, Wyatt. Yer doin' just fine yerself."

My eyebrows lift when she scurries to the front of the room to begin the auction, and I almost laugh when Wyatt's face is beet red, just like mine. "What favor?" I ask.

He waves me off. "It's nothin'."

A whack of a mallet echoes on the wooden podium Loretta is standing in front of, and I'm almost thankful for it. Although I want to know what both of those favors were that he asked of Loretta, I don't want to admit mine, either.

For now, not knowing is fine. 

Author's Note: 

I love them sooo much!!

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