Wasted Oil: (The Backroad Series Book 1) by Ragain Renee

Author:Ragain Renee [Renee, Ragain]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-11-16T16:00:00+00:00

All throughout the day, I couldn’t stop thinking I should have stayed in bed tangled up in all things Melanie. I can’t stop smiling either, and I’m sure I look like a love sick idiot.

Woah woah, love?

I do love Mel. She was once my best friend. Of course I have love for her. She was a huge part of my life growing up. The gap of time missing I know I could forgive. I do forgive her. I can’t deny that things have completely shifted from the moment of having her in my arms, to our evening at the lake. I still need to tell her though, part of me wants to just forget about it and make it go away like it was never a thing but there’s one particular reason I won’t be able to do that without possible repercussions.

Johnny.

Maybe I should talk to him about it. He would understand, he’s my best friend anyway, right? Not sure why that came out in a question, but then again, I do because anything Johnny does is questionable. He can be a loyal friend and be there for you at your worst like he was for me and how he was for Alex when she lost her stepdad. But it’s like a flip switch and he can be a complete asshole where it makes you question him in general.

Yeah, I have to tell her.

Pushing that confession to the side for the fifth time I park in front of the diner and hop out with a crate of Rita’s monthly order of honey and jams. I walk through the front and place the jarred goods on the counter top and I’m greeted by the amazing smell of pancakes, syrup and coffee, and my stomach instantly growls.

“Oh gosh, is it already the end of the month?” Rita says walking out from the back kitchen.

“It's been crazy here, I feel like this month flew by. You’d think after how long this place has been running and every year when the fair is going I'd adapt, but I think with age it's the opposite.” She rants, reaching for a mug and the coffee pot, filling it and placing it in front of me.

“You staying for brunch, deary?”

I take the mug from her and take a sip.

“Yes ma’am.” My southern accent meeting my side grin. She takes her crate to the back and I sit on the bar top, my mind still on one thing. Someone. I reach in my pocket for my phone.

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