DODGING ANGELS

She shook her head, her mouth full and half-chewed. "No, I love margherita pizza! It's not boring; it's a classic. And for a reason," she urged, motioning forward as she spoke. "Which means I like it," she reassured her, taking another bite. Vanna signaled for her to start eating, tucking her hair behind her ear."

Well, I'll try not to take that as a jab," she said with a chuckle, reassuring Lana that she wasn’t being serious. She chewed a bit more and reached for the water bottle. With a sigh, Vanna shook her head, then threw her head back and opened her mouth, letting the water flow in with her lips far from it. She used the back of her hand to catch the few droplets that pooled at the corners of her mouth before placing the bottle back down.

"Barely any caffeine all day, lack of sleep, lack of food," she emphasized, raising the pizza slice in her hand. "But oh, the reward of sharing my cultured food with others and earning far more than we expected!" Vanna meant it, but she also intended to make it sound a bit like a joke. Sure, everything was going well, but eating would really make it all worthwhile.

The sauce tasted so fresh. Her only wish was if it had somehow been a spicy marinara, just because a touch of heat was never really a bad thing. She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin before she worked halfway down the slice in her hand.

"Why the lack of sleep? You could've called or sent me a text, I would've brought you some coffee." At least they were fixing one of those listed problems now. And Lana was happy to hear it was at least a successful day, which made the sacrifices that much easier to accept. "Do you have to clean up or are you free now?"

She remembered the love triangle affair turned square and how hard it was to keep up. Frankly, she didn't even know if she had it right to this day because a drunken friend had tried to explain it to her when she saw Elsie clearly eavesdropping. "It always gets back to them. Unfortunately it hadn't while I was there. It's the best part when it all comes to the surface." While she hated drama in her own life, she couldn't stay away from watching drama unfold in front of her.

Children was something she went back and forth on but she realized as of lately that it had more to do with the fact that her parents wanted it for her more than she did. Maybe one day. With the right person, she could feel differently. "The boozy aunt is a fun gig."

"A new level of hell? Sounds like I need to hear about this." If she was willing to share. Elsie wouldn't pressure her but it was an open invitation to vent. "I did. I saw a few people and hung out. It's just nice getting out of the house and socializing with people that I like and don't work for."

In a way, it was nice to hear the drama and how messy other's people's lives were. It allowed Lana to not feel too bad or think too deeply about her own troubles, and it was a nice reminder to know she was just another person in the mix of things. "Right?" She grinned a little. "I wish they could invite us somehow, someway for the reveal because we kind of need and deserve to see that showdown."

As much as Lana had wished she'd had children she'd accepted her reality and the fact that it hadn't happened for her. "I'd be lying to myself and everyone else if I didn't admit that maybe the aunt gig is kind of better? Don't get me wrong, but yeah... I have a lot of freedom in my life that way."

Hearing that her friend had a good time Lana brightened. "I hear you on that." But then she sighed, just a little one, and then say forward a little. "Well, a couple of weeks ago Shane drunkenly approached me outside of the bar, going on about how his life is shit. And as you know we haven't really spoken in twenty years, so... it really threw me. Then at the fling I met and spoke with his baby mama and ex-girlfriend. Which I'm guessing Shane saw because he found me again." Lana's head shook, suddenly her life had felt so twisted up. "Then there's the issue of Javi. Who basically said I'd been using him all this time and never stayed or wanted anything more out of him. Mind you... he never once told me he wanted any of that." It was a lot to dive into but she'd see what Elsie thought of the introduction first. She looked at her solidly, "Please smack me over the head with a frying pan if I ever try to bother with people again."

Although, Sonny hadn’t missed the flash of pain in Lana’s eyes only a few minutes ago. Having spent so much time perfecting her own vanishing act not to notice when someone else pulls the same trick, Sonny took note. The words "I was" echo louder than the music for a breath or two, and Sonny almost—almost—reaches out for her again, if only to say something softer, more careful. But then the song changes, and Lana lets go of the past with a wink and a sway of her hips, and Sonny decides to just follow her lead.

There’d be plenty time to unpack the drama later. "What’s reckless about dancing?" Sonny repeats with a low, teasing laugh, stepping into the rhythm with Lana like it was a lover she hadn’t seen in a while. “Plenty, if you do it right.”

The beat drops harder then, and Sonny lets her shoulders roll back, the edges of her smirk returning as she lets her hips match the rhythm, loose and unapologetic. Her dark curls bounce freely now, catching the warm, flickering bar lights as they move.

When she finally turns to face Lana more fully, one brow lifts with mock challenge. “You say fuck him like you mean it,” she observes over the music, “but that little eye roll afterward? That's a bit more loaded, babe.” Her voice is low and wry, but not unkind. “Still…” she leans in closer, breath warm against Lana’s ear as the tempo picks up, “...if he’s stupid enough to let you slip through his fingers, that sounds more like a him problem than a you-one.”

Sonny pulls back just enough to meet Lana’s gaze again—eyes sharp and playful. “I, on the other hand,” she adds, stepping into a slow, teasing spin, “plan on making very smart decisions tonight. Dangerous, maybe. But smart.” She moves with more intention now—loose-limbed but purposeful—like each movement is its own unspoken message. She isn’t just dancing anymore. She's speaking in rhythm. And every word is directed at Lana.

As the chorus hits, Sonny leans forward, matching Lana’s pace, the space between them charging with laughter and something a little darker that shimmers just beneath it. “So?” she asks, breathless and smiling. “You still think this isn’t reckless?” There's a grin, before she loops a playful finger in the hem of Lana’s sleeve and they twirl away again. “Because I think this might be exactly the kind of trouble I was hoping for when I walked in here tonight.”

Just then, Sonny slips back into the rhythm, her laughter blending with the music, while Lana matches her energy beat for beat—both of them fluid, unbothered, and electric. For a moment, it almost feels like nothing outside of this small, pulsing world between them, exists. No ghosts from the past. No sharp words. Just movement and heat and the kind of trouble that feels almost holy.

But the air eventually shifts. Why? Because it has to. And, frankly Sonny feels it before she sees it—an interruption threaded with intention.

Javier steps onto the edge of the dance floor, still in his rolled-up sleeves and that damn nametag half-hanging off his chest like he’s above wearing it properly. He doesn’t say anything right away. Just stands there for a beat too long, eyes on Sonny, expression unreadable but definitely not neutral. The kind of look that knows how to get attention without even asking for it.

“Didn’t peg you for a dancer,” he says finally, voice smooth, low, and meant to carry. His gaze lingers on Sonny like she's the main act, his tone friendly—but just sharp enough to cut. Sonny’s movements slow, not stopping, but definitely clocking the change. Her brow arches as she regards him, lips curling into something unreadable. “Didn’t peg you for the interrupting type,” she fires back, cool but not cold. Not yet.

Javier grins, stepping just a little closer to the both of them, hands slipping casually into his pockets like he’s just gotten off the clock and has decided to have some fun. “Can’t help myself when something this... compelling is happening right in front of me.” He glances—just once—at Lana. Not long, but long enough to be seen. A flicker of something. A warning? Or maybe a challenge.

Sonny doesn’t miss it. And, she highly doubts Lana does either.

She’s still dancing though regardless, but her rhythm shifts—tightens. Like she’s suddenly too aware of her limbs, her breath. Like she knows exactly what this is: a game. Sonny, to her credit, plays it smooth. She doesn’t step back, but she doesn’t lean in either. Just takes one lazy turn in place and lets her eyes sweep over Javier with a look that lands somewhere between amused and unimpressed.

Not once did her body miss a beat of the music, she hit every single one, and felt zero shame enjoying herself on the dance floor with the most unlikely companion.

It seemed she was doomed to experience men that couldn't ask her to stay, or tell her they wanted her or needed her. There were a few fleeting years where Lana had gotten the taste of someone that didn't play games and was unabashed in being open about how they felt about her. It'd been scary for Lana at first, but it had felt so wonderful. Being without that now after it having touched her heart was almost painful to walk through this life.

"Apparently me always showing up on his door, always being the one reaching out to him," she went on as they moved fluidly together, like they'd been girlfriends that had decades of history going out dancing together. "That meant I was using him. Apparently I treated him as just a body, a means to release, a temporary comfort... because that was all he told me he'd wanted." Frustrated and feeling those emotions of hurt and anger slip into the movements of her body she tried to shake it out of her head.

It may have been a him problem but it had really hurt Lana. He'd actually meant a great deal to her and had been the one place she'd gone to when life had pained her.

When the song changed and Sonny showed no signs of vacating the dance floor, she continued to move with the other woman. In fact she tried to forget about the elephant in the room hanging behind the bar. Instead she enjoyed the way the movement and exertion made her body feel — loose and free. Sonny's comments roused a smirk along with an arched brow. "What dangerous decisions are going on behind those mysterious eyes of yours?" If the younger woman was looking for trouble then she didn't doubt she could find it in here.

For a moment she worried that meant she'd expected Shane to walk in. That maybe she'd heard he was dropping in tonight. But then Lana figured Sonny wouldn't be dancing with her like this if that were true. The idea alone was enough for a fleeting glance at the doors, though.

With a laugh she easily twirled at Sonny's lead and initiative. She spun and slipped around behind Sonny for a moment, her hands resting on the younger woman's hips while they matched rhythms. Then she made her way back around in front so they were face to face again. "Definitely reckless..." Lana could only imagine the talk that would spread, but for right then she couldn't care less. "The trouble is yet to be seen. That'll be in the aftermath."

In a heart piercing moment Lana was brought down for speaking too soon. Javier appeared, something dark and hungry in his expression as he interrupted them and focused solely on Sonny. She wet her lips and brushed her hair back as she took a step back. Something about the scene sobered her into reality. That little hint of fear that she'd somewhat confessed earlier to Sonny was being realized, and Javier had literally slipped between them to do it. With his back to her.

The movement of her body tapered until she went still in the middle of a dancing crowd. Did he hate her this much? Was this what she deserved in his mind?

There was no mistaking the hurt in her expression. Not this woman. Any woman but this one. Even if she and Sonny were getting along, there was no erasing that she was Shane's ex and baby mama. Each flirtatious comment and inch forward he took in to Sonny's space was building up something catastrophic, something there'd be no way back from.

This was lower than low, no matter how hurt Javier felt.

Another step back and a dancer collided with her. They'd cursed at Lana at first, annoyed, but when they'd realized who she was they reacted out of concern. "Hey, you alright, Lana, honey?" She was staring at Sonny and Javier like it was something so twisted and ugly. "Yeah," she replied to the man now taking her arm, "I just..." Her heart was pounding and there was a ringing in her ears. "I need to get the fuck out of here."

Holly didn’t hesitate. Instead, she stepped forward and wrapped Lana up in a tight embrace. One that said more than any words could. It was a little surreal to think about all that had changed since she'd seen the woman last. They had both been young, without a care in the world. And now here they were, both women, a little more weathered by life. It was kind of beautiful.

“You can do my hair anytime,” Holly said with a chuckle as she retracted from the hug. “Though I should warn you, it’s gotten to be a bit of a jungle.” At the mention of children, Holly grinned, assuming she was talking about kids of her own, rather than nieces and nephews. “No way! When did you become a mom?! I always figured you’d have a herd of mini-Chapmans running you ragged. Kids are the best... Until they gang up on you, and suddenly you're covered in ketchup and glitter, with no idea how it happened.”

When it came down to summarizing all of the milestones and changes in Holly's life, the woman felt overwhelmed. There was a lot to report on, and yet at the same time, she was the person she'd always been. “Well, I’m in my last year of vet school, if you can believe that. Still working at The Rusty Spur until I graduate and find work. I spend a lot of evenings wrangling drunken cowboys. And as far as relationships or children go... I couldn't be more single.”

There was a pause as she filled the air between them with laughter. “Life’s a little chaotic, but good. Mostly good.” Then she shot Lana a sly grin. “Now what about you? Because I feel like I’ve got years of gossip to catch up on, and don’t think I’m above dragging it out of you.”

"Oh, pfft," she easily waved Holly's warning off, "I've been working and taming manes since I could walk. These arms are strong." Not only did she wink, Lana also did a mini flex. A little sadness hit her at the miscommunication and Holly thinking the children she'd mentioned were her own. It only showed in her eyes and her smile only went down a notch. "The kids aren't mine. I'm a proud aunty! I never really got around to having children of my own. But I get to be this cool, mysterious aunt, so it's still a win."

Thankfully, Holly's achievements brought the full cheer right back, and Lana felt such a strong sense of pride for the little girl she once knew. "That's amazing, honey! Congrats! Seriously, that's such a huge accomplishment. Will you be an equine vet? If so, count Chapman Ranch as a client." She thought about The Spur for a moment and nodded her head. "Must be more fun than a vet tech job, though." But she wondered if Holly wanted to get some more practical practice in. "Oh, girl," she sighed then linked her arm with Holly's, "I feel that to my core. Childless and so single it hurts." Not really, she might actually be swearing off men.

"I'm so happy to hear that, and I wish I could tell you that the chaos dies down as you get older... but it doesn't." Lana laughed a little. "You can drag it out of me but we might need hours and a phō date. In quick summary, let's just say I never got a ring on my finger and my womb has gone unused. I did however quit a corporate job and became a pilot. And now I actually kind of test pilots trying to get their license."

The lingering gaze, the quiet plea, the unmistakable tone of someone who’d clearly walked away with shrapnel still buried under the skin? Sonny’s smirk softens—not into pity of course, but into something closer to understanding. Empathy, even. Maybe because she knows exactly what it feels like to be burned by someone and still carry the smoke inside your lungs after.

“Say no more,” she says finally, voice low but resolute while waving a hand up in surrender. She leans in a little closer, just enough for her words to be heard by Lana only, above the gentle hum of bar chatter. “I’ve done my time with a few charming disasters who don’t know how to clean up after the emotional arson they start.”

She glances back toward Javier just then, eyes sharp now instead of playful. “I can recognize the type. Doesn’t matter how good the packaging looks if what’s inside is all sharp edges and blame.”

Turning back to Lana, she clinks her glass gently against the rim of hers, a quiet toast to solidarity. “Consider it a hard pass from me.” Not that, she was interested anyway. Sonny's life was complicated enough, without the need to add a meaningless hookup into the mix. Plus, whether she cared to admit it or not, she still wasn't over their ex.

For a moment, Sonny lets the air between them settle before she finally nudges Lana lightly with her shoulder, a familiar playfulness returning to her tone and her overall demeanor. “Besides, you think I came all the way over here just to get hit on by your hot mistake? Please. I came over here because I saw you.” There's a pause. “But also,” she adds, after lifting a brow, “you mentioned dancing? and I’m starting to think that if I leave this bar tonight without at least one reckless decision under my belt, I’ll be disappointing the ambiance and my inner self.”

Therefore she extends a hand out in invitation—open, light, but not without some consequence, she's sure. “So, what do you say? You gonna show me and Fósforo over there, how you handle yourself on the dance floor? Or am I going to have to resort to bribing you? I'm sure we could make him jealous. Or at the very least, make him wish he were me.”

By the time Sonny was saying something about a mistake just after she'd bumped Lana's shoulder to call her attention back, she'd tried to hide the hurt in her eyes. It was gone in a flash and she pushed a smile on her face and forced herself into the moment. "He wasn't the mistake," he never had been, "I was." But Lana sipped her drink, her smile stayed in place as a gleam in her eyes began to shine at Sonny.

The song changed at the right moment, something more upbeat and lively popping on, and Lana naturally let her body find a little flow. Her expression began to morph into something casual and playful, as if she were ready to drop all of the weight everyone put on her for just a little while, and she took Sonny's free hand. "What's reckless about dancing? Girl, what kind of trouble gets started when you move your body?" Lana winked at her just before she finished off her drink and set it aside.

A moment later she began tugging Sonny toward the makeshift dance floor, her body beginning to hit each beat like it had been made to move like that. One thing she didn't do was look toward the bar. He'd made himself clear and she was still smarting from the emotional smackdown. Eyes were strictly on Sonny, mouth was moving along with the suggestive lyrics, body owned the song. "Fuck him," Lana replied about making Javier jealous with a brief roll of her eyes.

"He already knows how I handle myself and I'm not about to be out here screaming for his attention. Let's just have some fun, you and me." Stranger things had happened she supposed, and dancing with Shane's ex and trying to have a good time was now likely at the top of Lana's list.

"Come on now... show me what you've got. Let that hair down and let it all out for now."

Walking in to the house that felt like a second home to the single mom, Allie didn't bother with knocking- she simply slid off her shoes on the porch and stepped through the door, calling out as she did. "Honey, I'm home!"

With a full tote on her arm, she moved further into the house and made her way to the kitchen. There, she began unloading her haul- wine, cheese, crackers, some artisan chocolate bars she'd gotten in a care package from Margot's mom, and a few packages of pre-cut fruit (mango was finally back in season and Allie couldn't have been happier about it).

Phone gathered up from the table, in shorts and a tank top, Lana made her way inside and heard Allie busy in the kitchen. "Hey, wifey," she called out with a grin as soon as she entered the kitchen. One arm open and held out as she approached the gorgeous brunette for a greeting hug. The Chappy nickname made Lana roll her eyes but her grin never once slipped off her face.

One hand swept up a wine glass while the other went for the bottle of wine. Her eyes briefly roamed the spread that Allie was working up, but her intrigue soon landed back on her friend. "Vim's sounds great. I don't mind cooking either." It was something she actually enjoyed doing for other people. Just herself? Not so much. "Is that so?" Brow wiggled and amusement was in her eyes, "jump right in, Allie cat. What's been going on with you lately? Are you sure you brought enough wine?" They might have to pull out a second bottle if they ever got to Lana, but she'd rather spend the night focusing on anything else.

It fell slowly, and it wasn't anger that rose in it's place. She wasn't one that shifted into that emotion easily. Hurt began to ease into the shock and Lana felt as though he had been trying to rip her open with each verbal strike.

There was no interruption. She simply took it. Let the man get out every bad thought and feeling he had toward her. It felt as though he'd stoned her, then dragged her in front of the church to read her to rights. Lana felt bare standing there. Emotionally.

When he left, she finally seemed to breathe and the air moving in and out of her lungs felt sharp and painful. As though she were still being stabbed with daggers.

Once she collected herself, Lana headed out of the barn and saw one of the ranch hands working out the kinks of a hose nearby. She'd asked him to finish grooming Tuck for her and to saddle him up. If she wasn't back by the time that he was ready to go then to take the gelding to the indoor arena and warm him up.

Everything about her was subdued and she wasn't sure if the hand, Ande, had overheard anything but the expression on his face was unmistakable. But a moment later Lana was at the open door of the shed. "Javier," she said his name quietly. "Tell me one time you ever told me how you felt. Tell me one time you ever told me you wanted anything from me." The reason she'd treated things between them as just sex was because that's what she understood the arrangement to be.

The lines had been blurred plenty of times, but still, Lana had constantly reminded herself not to read into anything.

"When have you ever asked me to stay? When have you ever come to me? Or turned me away?" Disappointed, not in him, but in herself, Lana's gaze cast down. "Use you..." The cry in her throat nearly choked her but after a necessary moment of steeling herself, the simple, singular shake of her head came before she forged on. "Do you have any idea how hard it's been for me to come home? To this town, to this ranch? To the legacy that everyone else set out for me?" She was practically talking to her boots then, so she lifted her gaze and her eyes were wet with tears. The expression on her face was strained.

"I thought you were my friend." Lana wiped at her cheek. "I came to you because I felt comfortable. I felt peace. I felt... wanted." Out of the majority of the town Javier hadn't looked at her with the history that had been embedded into every inch of her existence. Things she couldn't outlive or outrun. "You... looked at me." Meaning, she thought he saw her, the person. Not the famous horseman Chapman's granddaughter, not the girl who had been supposed to marry that oldest Parker kid, not the girl who walked away from her Chapman destiny. "Or... I thought you did."

Another swallow, Lana had found it difficult to maintain eye contact now. She still felt so rocked, and winded, like she was still reeling from a sucker punch that seemingly had come out of nowhere.

"I'm sorry," Lana let out genuinely, "I never meant to make you feel that way." Was she the biggest asshole in the world? Treating someone so casually when they hadn't really been engaged in the same way. If he'd been getting over her, if he'd not been the initiator all this time... what did that make of her?

"Umm," she rubbed at the back of her neck and discomfort took her a couple of steps backward, "Ande will pay you when you're done. I'll leave the cash with him." Her head bobbed slowly and her arm wrapped around her front, almost holding herself as her hand moved up and down her own arm.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice everything you fixed and have done around here. I thought it... was just a job to you. We were..." Paying you. "But... thank you." Then Lana turned and walked away, her eyes immediately began searching the distance to see if Ande had taken Tuck to the arena.

He does however, hear her before he sees her again—her quiet voice curling around the name—his name— he’s heard a hundred different ways from her lips. Just never quite like this. Hurt. Shocked. Flabbergasted. It stops him cold, halfway through pulling the shed door closed behind him. The glove he was about to put on drops to the dirt by his feet with a soft thud, long forgotten.

He listens. The first few words that leave her mouth, feel like a slow burn down his back, lighting every nerve ending he tried to shove down just minutes before. He doesn’t move. Again, he can't. Not when she accuses him—rightfully—of never saying what he wanted out loud. Not when she lays bare the cracks in her chest like he just hadn't bothered to see them.

But, it’s the part where she says she thought he was her friend that finally punches a hole through whatever wall he started building between them.

He turns and Lana's standing there. He watches her as she wrap her arms around herself like she’s bracing for something colder to hit her than this dusty spring wind. Her voice isn't sharp. It isn’t smug. It's hurt. Honest. And it’s unraveling him in a way nothing else ever could.

His voice, when it comes, is rough from holding back too much. “Yeah,” he mutters, shaking his head once, like maybe he’s trying to shake loose the guilt that's crawling its way up the back of his neck. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I never said it.”

He looks at her, really looks at her now—like a man who's trying to memorize a moment he knows he's just screwed up. “You always came in like a storm, Lana. And me? I just stood there, mouth shut, pretending like I didn’t wanna drown in you anymore.” He huffs a laugh, and it's dry and quiet. “You thought I didn’t say anything ‘cause I didn’t care. But I didn’t say anything ‘cause I did. More than I probably should’ve. I didn’t think I had the right to ask for more from someone who never stays.”

His jaw tightens, then releases. There's no anger now—just weariness. Maybe something sadder. “I thought if I asked you to stay, you’d feel trapped. I thought if I asked for more, I’d lose what little of you I got to have. So I took whatever you gave me. And I told myself that it was enough. But maybe, it never was.”

He steps toward her now—not close, not the way he had before—but enough to be clear he’s not hiding behind tools or chores or his pride anymore. “I looked at you, Lana, and I saw you. Not the Chapman name. Not the town’s expectations. Just you. I didn't give a fuck about any of that. Still don't. And hell, maybe that was my mistake, thinkin' that was enough to keep you coming back for more than just a few nights of sweaty soaked sheets and some patched-up fence posts.”

He pauses then, his eyes locked on hers. “I never wanted your money. Didn't want anything really. Aside from just you I guess. I showed up because you called. And, I stayed because it felt like maybe... just maybe you needed me. Even if you didn’t ever say it out loud. I wanted to be there for you.”

A beat of silence passes, thick as a thundercloud. But, he burrows through it. “I’m not mad at you for leaving, not really,” he finishes, a bit quieter now. “I’m mad at myself for ever hoping you’d stay even while I knew you wouldn't.”

That's when he bends, picks up the glove from the dirt, and nods once toward her—not coldly, not even in understanding, just... like a man who's finally done carrying the weight of something too heavy in his chest.

“Take care, Lana.” He says soft. Seemingly final, but not unkind. And this time, when they part, he’s the one who doesn’t look back.

That was the thing about her. No matter how well he thought he knew her, Lana always managed to surprise him—in more ways than he could ever prepare for.

Turning to face her, he shook his head quickly, desperate to convince her she was wrong about whatever she was thinking. God, he hated that he’d even planted the seeds for these doubts.

"Lana, no- look, I know I had shit timing." he admitted with a sigh, reaching up to anxiously yank his hand through his short hair in a rare show of self doubt. The truth was sinking in now: if he wasn’t careful, he could fuck this up even worse.

"Yes, my life's been a fuckin' shit show lately and yes, I was drinkin' my sorrows away that night because of it." He still couldn’t quite believe how fast everything had gone up in flames. That he wasn’t handling it well shouldn’t have come as a surprise—but somehow, it still did. “I’d just found out that so much of what I thought I knew—about my life, my family—was all lies. And that night I was just caught up in thinking about the one good thing I've had in my life, besides Elijah, that I know for a fact wasn't ever a lie."

His voice was laced with the emotions he couldn't quite put into words, was afraid to even try, but it carried the weight of his sincerity at least. He hated that his attempt at a coping mechanism had potentially caused her any pain.

Glancing up, hoping desperately to meet her gaze, he apologized again. "So, when I saw you, I just... I didn't think. And I'm sorry that it felt like I was needlessly or carelessly dragging up the past at your expense. It wasn't my intention at all, but I know that doesn't matter and I'm just really sorry."

Then, add in the torment of very conflicting emotions she'd been feeling after meeting and talking to Sonny, and well... it'd been a recipe for her to nearly blow up the moment Shane approached her again.

She listened and she softened a bit more, because hearing what he was dealing with and reeling from would be hard on anyone. "Of course it matters," was all she'd said at first, allowing Shane to hold her gaze. "With a bit of perspective... that makes more sense to me now." Seeing him upset and going through something made her heart ache. This wasn't what she'd wanted for him.

"You saw me and you saw someone that had always been honest and open with you, and given what happened between us, I'm sure that burned you up inside a bit." Her tone was thoughtful, careful even, and perhaps the words came a bit slowly because Lana was cautious not to speak for Shane. "Just understand that the first time you approached and tried to talk to me... it was because of someone else. I know it's been a long time, Shane, but that kind of really sucked."

With the knowledge that he was really going through it, by the sounds of it not only over Sonny's return, but also his family lying to him, Lana didn't want to shape this to be about her, or them. She reached out and grabbed a couple of his fingers with hers, an action to ground him.

"What's going on with your family, Shane? Who's lying to you and why does so much of your life feel like a lie?"

Still raw from her earlier conversation with Sonny, she wasn't ready to go there with Shane, but Lana knew she would come up. From the confrontation last week it was very clear that Elijah's mother and his ex returning was a big part of why Shane was feeling so out of sorts. For now she'd start here and let him delve into that whenever he was ready.

"You know you can still trust me, right? Time can't change what I was to you. It's still me... just older and hopefully a little wiser now."

Her eyes looked up at her, returning a smirk. There was always something enjoyable about being in the presence of a beautiful girl. When a drink was mentioned, Vanna clapped her hands lightly with excitement. She reached for a bottle in a tub of cold water surrounded by melting ice. "Sorry, it's wet," she said, placing it down. Then, she dashed to the other side of the table, grabbing a handful of napkins. As Lana turned the box, Vanna couldn't help but salivate at the sight. Her stomach grumbled, and a hungry "yum" escaped her lips. "You're definitely an angel," she added.

With her eyes closed, Vanna savored the taste and ate happily. Just before speaking, she brought her hand to her mouth for a moment. "Do you mean the pizza or since we've seen each other?"

At the mention of sidepieces as dates, Lana with her drink in her hand and her fingers holding her straw to her lips, sipped with a raised brow. A look that begged for more juicy gossip. "Who the hell took their sidepiece to the fling? Wow... some people are really so messy and sloppy. There's no way that's not getting back to their main." Small towns were notorious for being in each other's business.

Lana nodded her head in partial agreement and understanding with Elsie's comment on having children. "In my old age I kind of feel that way now but... I still wish I'd had one or two." A small sigh escaped her but a light smile remained on her face. "I'm all good with being that cool, fun, estranged, boozy wine aunt now though."

Creepy Randy. That brought forth even more amusement. "You think I should? My love life, or lack thereof, to speak of has reached a new level of hell." Despite asking, Lana shook her head slowly. "I think I'm ok just sitting here vibing with you. Did you have a good time?"

“You think this is me pissy?” he mutters, voice low but, bitter. “Damn, Lana. Maybe I’m just tired. Tired of driving out to the ass-end of nowhere to patch something up, you probably won’t even notice has been fixed. Tired of acting like we don’t have a history every time we end up in the same damn room. Or in this case, same damn barn.”

He kicks a rock out of his path, slow and deliberate, like he’s working to stay grounded despite the outburst. The heat, the silence between them, the smell of dust and horses and her—it’s all getting under his skin in that slow, familiar way it always does.

His gaze finally cuts to hers, and it’s sharp. Measured. Controlled only because he knows if he lets it loose, it’ll turn into something too messy to wrangle back in again.

“You pop in and out of my life like it’s some kind of revolving door. I don’t get a heads-up, I don’t get closure—hell, half the time I don’t even get a goddamn goodbye. Just you... gone. Then suddenly, you’re back at my door. Still looking like sin in boots. Still acting like nothing happened. And I’m just supposed to fix you and this porch while I smile and pretend like we didn’t just burn half the sheets at my place the last time you vanished without a word.”

His voice softens, just barely, as if a gust of wind could knock it over. “You always make it seem like I’m the one who needs to get over it or let it go. But it’s YOU who keeps coming back after I've just learned how to get over you.”

Javi takes a step toward her then—just one. Close enough to smell the citrus shampoo he’d once teased her about, close enough to remember how she used to tuck her face into his neck when the world got too heavy for her to bear.

“You say you wanna know what’s on my mind?” He tilts his head, lips twitching—not quite a smile, not quite not. “Well, maybe I’m just wondering how many more times you think I’m gonna let you use me before I finally wise up.” Though, maybe he already has.

Because he turns just then, not waiting on her answer as he stalks toward the side shed as promised, pulling a pair of gloves from his back pocket like it’s the only thing in the world right now demanding his attention.

“Don’t worry I’ll get what I need,” he mutters. “Won’t bother your horse. Or you.”

It fell slowly, and it wasn't anger that rose in it's place. She wasn't one that shifted into that emotion easily. Hurt began to ease into the shock and Lana felt as though he had been trying to rip her open with each verbal strike.

There was no interruption. She simply took it. Let the man get out every bad thought and feeling he had toward her. It felt as though he'd stoned her, then dragged her in front of the church to read her to rights. Lana felt bare standing there. Emotionally.

When he left, she finally seemed to breathe and the air moving in and out of her lungs felt sharp and painful. As though she were still being stabbed with daggers.

Once she collected herself, Lana headed out of the barn and saw one of the ranch hands working out the kinks of a hose nearby. She'd asked him to finish grooming Tuck for her and to saddle him up. If she wasn't back by the time that he was ready to go then to take the gelding to the indoor arena and warm him up.

Everything about her was subdued and she wasn't sure if the hand, Ande, had overheard anything but the expression on his face was unmistakable. But a moment later Lana was at the open door of the shed. "Javier," she said his name quietly. "Tell me one time you ever told me how you felt. Tell me one time you ever told me you wanted anything from me." The reason she'd treated things between them as just sex was because that's what she understood the arrangement to be.

The lines had been blurred plenty of times, but still, Lana had constantly reminded herself not to read into anything.

"When have you ever asked me to stay? When have you ever come to me? Or turned me away?" Disappointed, not in him, but in herself, Lana's gaze cast down. "Use you..." The cry in her throat nearly choked her but after a necessary moment of steeling herself, the simple, singular shake of her head came before she forged on. "Do you have any idea how hard it's been for me to come home? To this town, to this ranch? To the legacy that everyone else set out for me?" She was practically talking to her boots then, so she lifted her gaze and her eyes were wet with tears. The expression on her face was strained.

"I thought you were my friend." Lana wiped at her cheek. "I came to you because I felt comfortable. I felt peace. I felt... wanted." Out of the majority of the town Javier hadn't looked at her with the history that had been embedded into every inch of her existence. Things she couldn't outlive or outrun. "You... looked at me." Meaning, she thought he saw her, the person. Not the famous horseman Chapman's granddaughter, not the girl who had been supposed to marry that oldest Parker kid, not the girl who walked away from her Chapman destiny. "Or... I thought you did."

Another swallow, Lana had found it difficult to maintain eye contact now. She still felt so rocked, and winded, like she was still reeling from a sucker punch that seemingly had come out of nowhere.

"I'm sorry," Lana let out genuinely, "I never meant to make you feel that way." Was she the biggest asshole in the world? Treating someone so casually when they hadn't really been engaged in the same way. If he'd been getting over her, if he'd not been the initiator all this time... what did that make of her?

"Umm," she rubbed at the back of her neck and discomfort took her a couple of steps backward, "Ande will pay you when you're done. I'll leave the cash with him." Her head bobbed slowly and her arm wrapped around her front, almost holding herself as her hand moved up and down her own arm.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice everything you fixed and have done around here. I thought it... was just a job to you. We were..." Paying you. "But... thank you." Then Lana turned and walked away, her eyes immediately began searching the distance to see if Ande had taken Tuck to the arena.

Lana’s voice—measured, sad, and raw—sits heavy in Sonny’s chest. She swallows against the burn in her throat before she speaks, eyes cast somewhere between the field and the woman beside her.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Sonny says quietly, in spite of her own reservations, mixed feelings and insecurities, the words almost catching in her mouth as they leave her lips. “That he didn’t love you, I mean.”

There’s no performative kindness to her tone, no easy platitudes meant to soothe. It’s said like a truth she’ll now have to wrestle with—one she’s still making peace with in the moment after finding out who Lana was to Shane. She finally turns her eyes over to the other woman again, her expression now unreadable but sincere.

“People love in all kinds of ways. Some are selfish. Some are scared. Some don’t know what to do with something good when they have it. I may not have known about you before this moment but, I can only imagine there must be a reason why. Like, maybe you're not forgettable but hard to talk about. So, he's careful about it.” She presses her lips together, as if weighing on that and what to say next. “Take it from me, silence doesn't always mean you're strangers. Sometimes we let go of the things we do love because we care about them so much, we want better than what we, ourselves, can possibly give them.” Or maybe, she's talking about her own situation but, it seems to her, like it could be true in this case as well. Which, if it is, she's not sure how to grapple with that.

Therefore she just shrugs, the movement becoming small, almost defeated. “Or maybe I’m just seeing things that aren’t really there. Wouldn’t be the first time. But, believe me, that's rare.”

At Lana’s earlier question—the one she attempted to brush off about the lies—Sonny’s gaze drops, and for a moment, she considers not answering at all. But she doesn't want to play pretend. Not here. Not now. Not with someone who’s already bled over the same man and is being open and honest with her. So, it feels only fair to do the same.

“There were things I kept from him,” she says finally. “About who I was, and what I’d done before we met. Things I thought I could bury because I wanted to be someone else with him. Someone better.” Her voice is low, but steady. “But you can’t build a life on half-truths. And you sure as hell can’t keep love if you don’t even believe you deserve it. After awhile, your beliefs take over and blur your reality.” Was that the entirety of what happened? No. But, it pretty much sums it up. Sonny was sent to Briar Ridge to deceive Shane, to destroy him. And somewhere along the way, she fell hard and fast instead. As opposed to destroying him, she destroyed herself. Or at the very least the version of her, she used to be, the version of her she actually liked. Now, she doesn't know who she is...

Either way, she glances at Lana again, her jaw tightening ever so slightly. “I was already unraveling when we met. He just... gave me a reason to pretend I wasn’t anymore. And maybe that’s why it worked. Until it didn’t....” Again, that's not exactly how it happened. But, it wasn't like she could confess the full truth to Shane's ex. Not without severe and dire consequences. Lana seemed to be battling enough on her own. Sonny didn't feel it was necessary to pile even more burden on top her shoulders.

When Lana eventually touches her arm after unintentionally calling her out, (or so she says) Sonny finds herself surprised by the tenderness of the gesture. She gives a faint, crooked smile, one that tugs more with exhaustion than any actual humor. “You don’t owe me an apology,” she says. “I’d probably have said worse if I were in your shoes. Hell, I've done worse. And it's not like, it isn't true. I didn't have the guts to tell him goodbye to his face. So, maybe a part of me deserves that.” She shrugs, then softer, as if Lana’s last question had been the one she wasn’t prepared for, she asks: Who do you think you might have been?

Sonny exhales slowly and tilts her head up toward the dimming sky, as though it might hold the answers she can’t quite find on her own. “I think… I might’ve been someone softer,” she says at last. “Less afraid. Someone who didn’t always expect the good things to come with strings attached.” There's a pause. “Maybe someone who stayed and built a life instead of just slipping into one that looked good and comfortable from the outside because it's all she's ever known and been allowed to keep.”

Her shoulders rise and fall in a tired motion, and then she looks at Lana again—really looks at her. “You didn’t stay either. But you remember it all like you did. That says something, I think. That it mattered. That you did.”

She hesitates, then adds, almost as if it’s a confession, “Maybe that’s why, had I known who you were when I approached you, I would've hated you at first. I would've thought he left pieces of himself with you that I could never have. That maybe you were the part of him that made sense, and I was just what came after....”

There’s something vulnerable in her expression now, wide open in a way she doesn’t usually allow herself to be. “If that’s true… then maybe it’s not about who he loved more. Maybe it’s just… that we both saw the same light in him. And wanted to be near it. Even if we got burned while it lasted.”

She lets the quiet settle between them again, not to end the conversation, but to honor it. Then, with a soft voice, she goes on to add: “If he never explained... maybe it’s not because he didn’t care. Maybe it's the opposite. Maybe, he just didn’t know how.” Again, she was speaking from her own experience. Trying (even if she couldn't understand why) to play devils advocate for Shane and offer another perspective from the side of someone who also let love go for reasons too difficult and in her case, too dangerous to say out loud. “You don't strike me as the type of person who would ever become meaningless to someone. And for me? That's not easy to admit, all things considered. I'm not normally this friendly with women who should be perceived as my competition," That's a joke, obviously. "But, it's something I would bet on if I were a gambling woman. And who knows, I just might be?”

It took just about every ounce of strength and courage to stand still and accept the words from another woman on how the man between them may have loved. At least, Sonny tried to be kind and thoughtful.

"I didn't know him like that," she admitted to the woman next to her carefully. In a strange twist of fate Lana actually appreciated the landing pad Sonny was hurling under the height of the ledge. "He must have closed off after..." An inhale, then a measured exhale. The rest of that sentence was in the wind but Sonny was sharp, perceptive. "We'd known each other so long. Tough decisions and the harsh world of adulthood can wall a person off, I know that." Lana's head shook. "It was just very severe for me. Like looking down and seeing my arm or my leg missing, then being told to carry on." The problem was that missing limb would always be felt in it's phantom way.

Knowing that Shane had opened himself back up for someone, got to feel that love and heat with another person was actually a blessing. She hadn't meant or wanted for him to suffer and struggle on alone, and of course his life would carry on. Life wasn't some fairytale.

There was some surprise that Sonny actually shared anything at all with her about the lies and the way she'd left Shane. She'd fully expected the woman beside her to tell her to go fly a kite. Not because of something ugly inside of her, but for the fact that Sonny still seemed very guarded. Even Lana was picking up on the mystery, the secrets that she hid and kept locked away with her, like some ferocious dragon guarding it's treasure. Except whatever Sonny was keeping closely under protection seemed to be causing her nothing but pain and agony.

"You can't build a foundation on a lie," Lana murmured, understanding what the mother of Shane's child was conveying. "Why were you not open about who you were, or... are? If this is the real you," she began cautiously, not wanting to offend, "then I can imagine he would've fallen just as easily for you." And every time she'd come home for a visit or when she'd moved back a couple of years ago she would've had to stomach the happy family together.

A laugh came out, just burst it's way through the trap she'd tried to trap it with. Lana turned to Sonny slightly, hand on her chest to somehow physically speak that it wasn't a laugh at her nor the situation. The woman beside her had opened up and told her more than she was owed. "I'd heard about you and I'd wanted to hate you when or if we ever met. It's actually upsetting to find out you're this... good." Mistakes and all. "You did an awful thing, and it's not for me to say, but it's not irredeemable."

Trust, once shattered, was never quite the same. Lana supposed Sonny had that to wrestle with.

"Do you ever think maybe he saved you?" Since she'd mentioned she was unraveling, and now, with all she might have gone through and was finally facing... maybe that was all meant to be. "Whatever past or life you were trying to erase or outrun, that you now have to confront, maybe that's what you needed."

It was a relief that Sonny hadn't taken offense to what she'd said, especially since she genuinely hadn't meant it that way. For whatever reason she had no will to slight the woman. Maybe Lana had just suffered too much loss and she didn't want to see others around her sink like she was. These days, it was just her face above the water and if the exhaustion of trying to hold herself up got to be too much, well...

Somehow she laughed, they'd felt the same. The world likely wanted them to hate each other, it enjoyed pitting women against each other. But Lana's legs were too broken to go chasing after Shane. The last thing she wanted to do was fight or beg for someone to love her, to care for her. For too long she harbored hope, but it'd maybe finally burnt out of her.

You didn't stay either. That hurt. Sonny hadn't meant it to. Yet the pang that reverberated in her chest was piercing. So much so that it nearly stung her eyes. Lana cleared her throat and tried hard to force a smile onto her face. "He told me to go, Sonny," she confessed, voice rasped by the tightness of the emotion lodged in her throat.

Then it dawned on her and in an embarrassing moment Lana's eyes did get a little wet. He'd told Lana to go but would've begged Sonny to stay. As her head nodded, Lana blinked the tears away. The smile on her face couldn't hide the one tear that rolled down her cheek, but she didn't try to hide it from Sonny either. It was a white flag she offered, telling her that Lana wouldn't never be her competition.

A moment later and the evidence swiped from her cheek, she shook her head at Sonny while her brow furrowed. "Don't minimize yourself to that. Don't make yourself small and lessen the importance and value you've held in his life. You weren't what came after. You might be the right girl, wrong time is all." She'd become resigned so long ago that she'd pulled herself out of the fight entirely.

It was not about who Shane loved more. "He told me why and I understand it still to this day. I haven't been waiting around for him to breakdown the mystery, you know? For a long time it was something else that maybe I couldn't see or accept, but time can take a lot out of things. As we've gotten older and gone through things, we've gained perspective." Lana's shoulders rose and fell. "I want him to be happy and loved. That's all. Life is... as you know," from whatever her complications were, "very rough. We all deserve that soft, safe place to fall."

Just when her lips parted, cracking open from the smile that had come by way of Sonny's sentiments, Lana caught the sight of her nephew colliding full speed with another kid in her periphery. "Oh, shit!" Both kids went down and her aunty heart was squeezed at the sound of her nephew's cry that came almost immediately after. "That one's mine. Shit. Ok, I've gotta go." Her hand reached out to Sonny's bicep. "It was nice to meet you, Sonny. Good luck, ok?" Then she jogged off.

location— chapman ranch

The morning sun is already cutting sharp lines across the hills when Javi pulls up to the Chapman Family Ranch, dust kicking up around his truck tires.

The gate outside is squeaky, the fence in desperate need of fixing—like everything else around here. He kills the engine and steps out, toolbox in one hand, phone in the other, ignoring an unread text and missed call from his brother.

His boots crunch the gravel as he walks toward the barn, and eventually spots her, brushing down a horse.

Lana.

Of course she'd be here. It was her family’s ranch after all, her place, her mess, her orbit he always seems to circulate and swore many months ago he was done getting pulled back into.

To his dismay, she looks the same. Breathtaking. Gorgeous. Still sexy as hell. Which frankly, is the worst part. Next to those same tired eyes that used to hold him longer than they should have. Or that sharp mouth that once spoke his name like a prayer, like it meant something—when clearly it hadn't because, she ended up disappearing again without a word. Lana had a habit of using him when she were at her most vulnerable, like he was her soft place to fall, before she eventually vanished again like nothing ever happened.

It's for this reason that, Javi doesn’t say anything to her at first. Just nods neutrally and professionally, as he sets down the toolbox in his hand as if it were any other job. Like he hasn't memorized the feel of her skin in the half-light of his shitty apartment. Or like he can't still remember the sounds she makes when he hits the right spot.

“…Didn’t know you’d be around today,” he says finally, while wiping a sweaty palm off on his jeans. His tone is casual, but his jaw’s tight, while his voice is clipped with just enough blade to cut.

He doesn’t meet her eyes when he speaks again. “Ranch manager said the porch supports are shot. I’ll need access to the side shed. Unless that’s still locked up like everything else around here.”

There’s a pause—thick, awkward, and hanging in the heat between them.

It takes Javi another minute, before he finally looks at her, a hint of something sharp in his gaze. Not quite anger. Not quite sadness. Something older than both.

“You don’t have to hover,” he adds. “I know the drill. Hammer, nails, keep my mouth shut.” Beat. “Just the way you like it… Besides, it’s what I’m good at, right?”

Today she had lots of work to do with young Tuck, a stunning buckskin that had the makings of being a top cutting horse. She had the two year old cross-tied in the barn while she brushed and prepped him for the day ahead. A soft song was slipping past her lips, Filipino words she'd learned from her mother, just for herself and Tuck when she'd heard the noise of someone coming in.

A glance made her stomach flip and something even further south lurch at the sight of him in his dirty jeans and fitted shirt. Javier. The man had a unique effect on her, a pull, something strong enough to indulge in the carnality of him for more than a decade. He'd been there when she needed him and gone when she didn't.

"That was a foolish thought." Not because this was her ranch but someone had to work the horses. It was how they made money. "Sounds more like a hope, though," she tacked on, tone very casual despite the edge of the knife he seemed to be riding on.

A little laugh escaped her and Lana fully turned to Javi then, bright smile on her lips as she tossed the brush into the tack box. "Like everything else around here?" Brow raised in too much amusement. What was he so pissy about? "Something on your mind, darlin'?" Then with a wink, Lana added fuel to the fire, "you know I like a straight shooter."

After rounding the front of the horse, one arm hugging his strong neck and her dipping under his head, Lana went for a hoof pick in the tack box. Tuck was picking up on the tension being flung their way, they were very sensitive animals in that regard, and he shifted his four hooves around.

"Would you mind chilling out or maybe stepping out for a breather?" Lana looked at Javi again, while one hand stroked down Tuck's neck. "You're making this young boy antsy."

Confusion spread across her features the moment Javi said something about hovering, and she soon shook her head. "I'm grooming and saddling and then I'll be out of here. I was also in here first so... how exactly am I hovering, Jav?" Then she took a couple of steps closer to him, and each step seemed to remind her of the heat they shared. It'd been a while since either have them been in either of their beds. "You know your way around here. You need something out of the shed then get it. But... what are you so pissy about?"

location— firefly brewery

The Firefly Brewery is your type of bar that smells like aged wood, warm citrus, and the kind of night that may just unfold into something you’ll regret—or replay—later. It’s not Sonny’s usual cup of tea, but she tells herself she's only there, because she needs a drink. A quiet one. Something to help take the edge off her week and the conversation that's been recycling in her mind ever since it happened.

She’s halfway through her Mezcal Neat, and perched at the tail end of the bar where the light is low and forgiving, when her eyes catch sight of a familiar figure across the room. Or rather, an impossibly gorgeous silhouette. Belonging to no one other than Lana Chapman herself.

There’s no tension in Sonny’s shoulders when she initially notices her—but something shifts beneath her skin all the same. That's why she watches Lana for another moment prior to approaching her, drink in hand — all casual but intentional. Like someone walking toward the scene of a fire that may still be lit and ready to explode any minute now.

“What are the odds,” she jests, after reaching Lana’s side and flicking her hair over one shoulder. “That we share the same taste in bars now, too?”

The smirk Sonny offers her is light, but there’s that same undercurrent beneath it. The one that took place during their last conversation together. An undercurrent that is both sharp enough to matter and still soft enough not to intentionally wound.

“Okay…” Sonny murmurs, after tipping her chin towards the bar. Where an unfamiliar pair of eyes has seemed to have captured her attention. Having been followed a handful of times throughout her life, Sonny could always tell when someone was surveilling them. The bartender, whoever he was— all tall, dark, and unreasonably good-looking had his eyes trained on the two of them. But more specifically, Lana. Which means... Sonny, ever curious, can't help but wonder.... “So is it just me, or is the bartender over there staring you down? And very hot in that specific ‘I'll-ruin-your-life-but-then-smile-about-it-after’ kind of way?"

Sonny takes another sip of her drink just then, eyes still locked on the stranger, as she glances sidelong at Lana with a grin that’s all implication. "Do you know him or something? Because if not, you're about to. I give it five... maybe ten more seconds before he approaches. So, just say the word and I'll be your back up should you need it."

Somehow she'd gotten convinced by some of the employees to stop by Firefly with them once off shift and what the hell, a drink or two and possibly a two-step across the hardwood floor was just what she needed before she headed back to her too quiet home on the ranch.

Unfortunately when she'd been agreeable and made her way over, decidedly driving her own truck, Lana had a senior moment and slipped on the fact that Javier tended bar at Firefly. Maybe he wouldn't be working tonight... she hoped.

Of course Lana wasn't that lucky, and she did her best to avoid looking his way. Instead she mingled and chatted with the familiar locals. None of them wanted to hear about the ranch or the horses, not even if she'd seen Shane or been around Silver Creek, they wanted to hear about her life as a pilot and her travels. Of which, Lana was too happy to indulge, since it was what she preferred to talk about as well.

"Oh, Sonny..." Surprise caught in her throat as she very briefly looked at the all too beautiful ex of her ex with wide eyes and a slightly stunned expression. "Hi," she chuckled a moment later, "honestly... I'd be a fool to criticize your taste." Good humor and a playfulness jumped forward as she winked at the woman beside her.

Their meeting had been difficult and painful, and what was worse was that Lana liked Sonny. The ugliest part of her heart had hoped that whomever Shane had moved on with was someone awful. Instead, he'd actually upgraded.

"I'm actually not a big drinker so I don't really come in here or anywhere else..." Like The Rusty Spur. "...often." She tried to get a read on Sonny, the weight of their reveals at the Spring Fling had to have been different. She was clearly no threat as someone their mutual ex had completely forgotten about in 20 years time. The woman had the expression and body language of wanting to be friendly and social, but Lana thought she could sense a slight edge there.

Hopefully she was wrong.

"I do like to dance, though," Lana added with a little shimmy and bumped Sonny's hip. Nearly done with her first drink, she was feeling relaxed. Plus, she didn't want to fight with this woman.

Before she could invite Sonny out on the makeshift dance floor a comment was made about a hot bartender giving them a heated look. Again, Lana forgot herself and tossed a look over her shoulder. The grin on her face slowly fell as she witnessed Javi's gaze pivot between her and Sonny. "Oh no..." She nearly groaned, "please don't tell me we have him in common as well." The comment only came out because of how well Sonny described him in one sentence.

"He's not going to approach," she said like a fact rather than playing at a bashful denial, "unless it's to chat you up. He was looking at you, too." The look he seemed to be giving Lana more of a burn a hole into her rather than anything fond or interested.

"If he does... chat you up or hit on you," she began tentatively, "please turn him down. I've only slept with two men in this town and yeah..." Lana nodded, "you get my drift." After a moment and another glance at Javier, she added, "he's actually more of the type to ruin your life and smile while doing it." Lana captured Sonny's gaze. "Then looks at you like he hates you and everything's your fault but to afraid to come and talk."

That voice... was it an angel, maybe? Vanna slowly sat up, her head turning as her body followed to see Lana standing on the other side of their register, holding a pizza box. "I knew it was an angel," Vanna beamed as she walked toward her. Although Vanna had always felt a bit shy around Lana, she had grown more comfortable since their reunion in Briar Ridge. She often regretted not taking charge during their time together overseas, but with a few years having passed and some personal growth, Vanna now felt more at ease around Lana than ever before. Eagerly, she moved to pull out a chair for Lana and gestured for her to place the pizza box on the table. "Gimme that bad boy," she grinned, her hands playfully reaching out as she awaited the unveiling of the pizza she had been craving.