Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Why are you here?” He goes into the house, and I follow.
“I want you to talk to Dusty. I don’t want you to be angry with him, and I want you to tell him you’re not.”
Rhett gives a humorless laugh. “Please. You wish we never spoke again.”
I go for honesty. “Well, I can’t pretend a part of me doesn’t. I can’t get it out of my head…but I’m in love with him…and he loves you as a friend. I don’t want Dusty hurt.”
Rhett sets his briefcase down and finally turns, giving me his attention. He looks older, his forehead scrunched up and his brows drawn together. “You really are in love with him.”
“I always have been.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.”
I groan, anger kicking up steam inside me. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t come here for me either. You came for Dusty. Any other time we’ve spoken, you don’t mind fighting with me, but now that you need me to do something for you, it’s different?”
“Jesus, Rhett.” I run a hand through my hair. “He’s your friend. He cares about you.”
“Does he, though?” he asks in a tender voice that shocks me to my core. It sounds like he doesn’t believe that about Dusty, but how can he not? Unless…
“You want him. You have feelings for him.” My hands shake.
Rhett rolls his eyes. “I’m not even fucking queer, Morgan. It was one drunken kiss. A mistake. I don’t have feelings for Dusty. I’ve always known he’s yours.”
“Then why would you ask that question?”
“Never mind. It’s not important. I’ll talk to Dusty—but for him, not you. I don’t want him to leave while things are difficult between us.”
A guilty twinge lands in my chest again. Dusty is leaving everything behind for me. “Thank you. I…that means a lot to me.” Rhett watches me but doesn’t respond. His head cocks slightly, gaze intense like he’s looking for something, trying to figure out who I am, or hell, for all I know, what Dusty sees in me. “I know I’m not good enough for him. I’m going to do everything in my power to make him happy.”
“Will you?” Rhett asks.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
The need to snap at him bubbles up in me. All the tension that’s been simmering between us most of our lives is still there, but I do my best to bite it back down. I’m tired. So fucking tired of this being our lives. And I want to do better, if not for me, at least for Dusty. “I had dinner with East last night. We—”
“You and Easton had dinner together?”
“Yeah, I met his dog. She’s sweet. Maybe we can…I don’t know…the three of us…do that…spend some time together, I mean.”
Christ. Asking to hang out with your own brother isn’t supposed to be this difficult.
“Maybe.” He shrugs. “I need to take a shower. You can see yourself out.”
This is how it ends every time people in my family decide to spend time together—with one of us walking away.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dusty
It’s barely been a week, but I already love living with Morgan. We haven’t started looking at places in Santa Monica yet, but I hope we can find something that doesn’t feel too…I don’t know…city for me.
We’ve been spending our Saturday morning working on the Mustang, when my phone buzzes. I assume it’s Mom wanting to ask something about dinner tonight. She and Dad are coming over as planned, and I’m going to tell them about moving at the end of the summer. Even though it’s early and there’s still a lot of time before that happens, the sooner I tell them the better. But it’s not Mom’s name on the screen.
It’s Rhett’s.
Worry sets off a bomb inside my chest because Rhett and I haven’t spoken since I left his house a week ago, and he’s not the kind of guy to reach out first. Is it something with their dad? With East?
My pulse thuds in my ears as I swipe my finger across the screen to open my phone, while shoving to my feet.
Morgan can read me so easily that he asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head, not wanting to worry him, and open the text.
Rhett: I thought I was the workaholic?
I breathe out a sigh of relief. He must have driven by and seen my Jeep to know I’m at the shop on a day off. And just like East showing up to clean was his apology, this text from Rhett is his way of saying everything is okay between us. The weight that drops off my chest is proof of how much I really needed this.
Me: I’m working on my Mustang, so this is more for fun. Morgan is here too. Do you want to come help?