My Cone and Only Read online

  “He’s a sixteen-year-old cat in renal failure, so no, not really.” Tanner took a drink of his whiskey and shrugged. “But he’s still got a few more good years left, hopefully.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, knowing it was going to tear him up when Radagast finally gave up the ghost.

  He shook his head at me. “Don’t change the subject. We were talking about you and Andie. You love her, don’t you?”

  I didn’t have an easy answer to that. My feelings for Andie were too deep and tangled. I loved her as a friend, absolutely. And I fantasized about loving her as more than a friend. But I couldn’t separate the two enough to know if I was in love with her. I’d never fallen in love before, so I had no idea what it was supposed to feel like.

  “That doesn’t mean I can actually pull off a relationship,” I said, dodging his question. I scrubbed at my face and downed another mouthful of whiskey. “My track record with commitment doesn’t speak in my favor.”

  “That’s because you’ve never been in a relationship with a woman you actually cared about. It’ll be different with Andie.”

  “You can’t know that. I sure as hell don’t.”

  “Love doesn’t come with guarantees, Wyatt. You have to take a risk to reap the rewards.”

  “I can’t.” There was too much at stake. My knuckles whitened as I squeezed my fingers around the glass. “I can’t lose her. And I can’t lose Josh.”

  “You won’t.” Tanner leaned forward to grab the whiskey bottle off the table and refilled both our glasses. Neither of us would say it, but we both knew why I was so afraid of losing the people I cared about. He didn’t need to point out that I hadn’t let anyone new get close to me since we’d lost our mom.

  She was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was nine and Tanner was eleven. She fought it for more than a year, but in the end all the surgeries and treatments hadn’t been enough to save her. Six months before she died, our oldest half-brother, Chance—Brady’s twin—was killed in a car accident. A few months after that, Brady left town and I never heard from him again—except for what I read in Rolling Stone after he got famous.

  To call it the worst year of my life would be an understatement. I’d lost a lot of people who mattered to me in a short span of time. Our mom had been the glue that made our family a family, and without her it all felt flimsy and impermanent. Dad had pursued his own method of dealing with his grief—he married Heather just six months after my mom died, and Cody was born eight months later—leaving me and Tanner to cope mostly on our own. Thank god for Ryan, who’d done his best to hold the three of us together as stubbornly as our mom had before she got sick.

  But ever since, I’d avoided close relationships. Friends, girlfriends, didn’t matter. I kept them all at a safe distance. I became good-time Wyatt, because everyone liked having that guy around. Fun, irresponsible, charming, unreliable Wyatt. The guy who worked hard to get people to like him, then ghosted before anyone could like him too much. Because if I let anyone get close enough to see the real me, they might decide it wasn’t worth sticking around. Always leave them wanting, that was my strategy. Better to leave than be left.

  The only people who knew the real me were the ones who’d been there when my world fell apart. Tanner, Ryan, Josh, Andie—they’d all been grandfathered in.

  I couldn’t afford to lose any of them. I wouldn’t let that happen. Not if I could help it.

  “You need to have a little faith in people,” Tanner said. “I think you should be straight with Andie about everything. She’s a smart woman. Let her make her own decision.”

  “Tell me again how it went when you told Lucy you loved her?” The alcohol was making me sulky and mean, or I wouldn’t have thrown his ex in his face. The one he still hadn’t gotten over.

  “Low blow,” he shot back, frowning at me. “And totally different. You’ve been friends with Andie for most of your life. I’d only known Lucy for a little while.”

  And yet, he’d known her well enough to think he was in love with her, which showed just how different the two of us were. I kept everyone at arm’s length, but Tanner fell in love fast and hard—way too fast and way too hard—which meant he’d had his heart broken a lot.

  You had to hand it to the guy though, at least he practiced what he preached. He didn’t hold back or bottle his feelings up. No, he’d courageously dropped the L bomb on Lucy after just a few weeks.

  She’d run screaming for the hills, of course, leaving Tanner brokenhearted. Not that I could blame her. I’d have done the same thing in her shoes.

  But at least Tanner wasn’t a coward like me.

  I leaned forward to set my drink down and propped my elbows on my knees, raking my fingers through my hair. “Fuck. I really screwed up tonight.”

  “All life is just a progression toward, and then a recession from, one phrase – ‘I love you.’” When I swiveled my head toward him, he shrugged. “F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote that.”

  I ignored the aptness of the quote. “What if Andie’s so pissed she can’t move past this?”

  “She’s put up with your ass for this long.”

  I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands as I thought about tomorrow, and how I was going to have to go back there and face her. I didn’t have a choice. Not if I wanted to save our friendship. I’d already screwed up enough by running out on her tonight. I wasn’t going to bail on my commitment to help her on top of that.

  Tomorrow I’d go back and try to fix what I’d broken between us while I finished the repairs to her house. At least I had that going for me. She needed me right now, so she probably wouldn’t throw me off her property.

  Andie was almost as good at holding a grudge as her brother, but I could wait her out. I’d just keep showing up and acting like nothing had changed until I’d worn her down.

  What other choice did I have?

  Take Tanner’s advice? Tell her I love her, ruin my oldest friendship, then probably screw everything up with Andie anyway?

  Pass.

  I poured more whiskey into my glass and knocked the whole thing back. Tomorrow I’d face the music. Tonight I just wanted to be numb.

  10

  Andie

  How fucking dare he kiss me like that and then head straight into the arms of another woman?

  I couldn’t decide if I was more pissed off or embarrassed. But really what I was, most of all, was hurt.

  Wyatt had looked me right in the eyes and said he didn’t want me. I’d let myself be vulnerable for one miserable moment—let myself believe that kiss might actually mean something—and I’d gotten kicked right in the teeth.

  The annoying thing was, I couldn’t even pretend to be shocked. It wasn’t like I didn’t know exactly who Wyatt King had always been. What had I expected? That he’d change his fickle, womanizing ways just for me? That I was special?

  I was almost as mad at myself as I was at him. I’d let hope creep in, when I should have known better. I’d fallen prey to my own baser instincts as much as I’d let myself be fooled by his. Because I’d wanted to feel Wyatt’s lips on mine, I’d thrown sense out the window.

  If anything, it was worse now that I knew exactly what I was missing out on. Before last night, I could only imagine what kind of kisser Wyatt was. But now I knew precisely, because he’d given me the best kiss of my life.

  Nothing else I’d ever experienced had come close to feeling like that. When he’d grabbed me and slanted his mouth over mine, it had hit me like a chemical reaction. Instant combustion. Friction and heat igniting the oxygen between us, generating more energy than one simple kiss had been able to contain.

  My nerves were still vibrating with it this morning. That one damn kiss had left me weak and desperate for more, with an ache of incompleteness I hadn’t been able to shake since he’d walked away.

  How was I supposed to come back from that? How was I going to face him again without launching myself at him to finish what he’d started?

  I’d have
to figure it out, because that was one thing I would absolutely not be doing. No matter how badly I wanted to. Wyatt King was not getting a second chance to play me for a sucker. Fool me once, fuck you forever. That had always been my philosophy.

  Only…I couldn’t exactly cut Wyatt out of my life. There were too many ties binding us together. My brother, my aunt Birdie, my parents. A lifetime of friendship and shared memories. Even as mad as I was, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop caring about him. He’d been right about one thing. We were family.

  I could limit my exposure though. Put up some defensive walls that were frankly long overdue. Stop torturing myself over someone who would never want me.

  Unfortunately, I still needed his help with the house. There was no getting around that. I hated being dependent on anyone, ever, but I especially hated that I needed Wyatt so much right now, when I’d be better off enforcing more distance between us.

  Speaking of which, I was starting to worry he might ghost on me completely after last night. It was almost eight thirty and there was still no sign of him. If he decided to leave me in the lurch, I was completely screwed.

  Well, not completely. He’d done some of the work already. What was left was too much for me to finish on my own, especially when I didn’t have enough vacation saved up to take time off work. But I could work on it myself this weekend. If Wyatt didn’t come back by Monday, then I could try to get a home equity loan and hire someone to finish the rest. Not by the deadline probably, but I could talk to the HOA and ask for more time. Hopefully they’d give it to me, because I sure wouldn’t be able to get a loan with a lien on the house.

  I gave up waiting on Wyatt and went outside to attack the thicket of weeds growing along the back fence. It was pretty therapeutic, actually, snipping off the thick stalks and hacking at the roots, taking out my violent impulses on the vegetation and imagining it was Wyatt’s face.

  I’d been at it about twenty minutes when I finally heard his truck pull into the driveway. Instead of going to greet him like I normally would, I kept on working.

  Yes, I was sulking. But I was also protecting myself. And honoring his wishes. He’d made it clear that we’d crossed a line last night that he wasn’t comfortable crossing with me. The best way to keep it from happening again was to keep my distance. If he had anything else to say, he could come and find me.

  Apparently he didn’t have anything to say, because he still hadn’t sought me out thirty minutes later when I finished clearing out the weeds. Fine. Two could play that game. It didn’t bother me.

  Except here I was, totally fucking bothered.

  Angrily, I gathered up all the weeds to tie them into a bundle. The sky had clouded over while I’d been working, which had cooled things off a little. But the humidity was so thick it made it hard to breathe. I felt like my lungs weren’t getting enough oxygen.

  I was so intent on the work, I didn’t notice Wyatt had approached until I turned around and nearly walked right into him. “Shit,” I muttered, jumping back.

  “Sorry.” He held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

  As we eyed each other I took some petty pleasure in the fact that he looked like crap. Unhappy lines creased his face as he shuffled his feet in front of me. He had the strained look of someone fighting a hangover and the bleary, hollowed eyes of sleeplessness.

  Although, for all I knew it was because he’d had such a great time last night and partied too hard with whatever woman he’d chosen over me. A fresh pulse of anger rose in my blood, and I dodged around him to walk away.

  “Andie, wait.” His hand caught me by the arm, setting off sparks of longing everywhere his fingers touched my skin. “We should probably talk about last night.”

  I didn’t look at him, but I didn’t pull out of his grasp either. I couldn’t make myself do it. I craved his touch too much. “What’s to talk about? You made your position perfectly clear.”

  He dropped his hand, leaving a prickly impression behind on my arm. “You’re mad.”

  “No shit.” A drop of rain hit my face, and I looked up at the sky. The clouds overhead were dark and threatening, matching my mood.

  “I meant it when I said I cared about you.”

  “Great.” It shouldn’t feel like a consolation prize, but it did.

  “I’m really sorry about what happened.”

  I rounded on him, and my stomach churned when he shrank back from me. “Which part? The part where you kissed me, the part where you tried to take it back, or the part where you walked out right afterward to spend the night with another woman?”

  “All of it. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You don’t have to mean it to do it.” Another raindrop hit my arm, sending a cold shiver over the back of my neck, and I reached down to wipe it away.

  “I don’t want to lose you over this.” The catch in his voice made me look up at him.

  His expression was so anguished it drained most of the anger out of me. Fighting with him wouldn’t change anything. It couldn’t make him want me the way I wanted him. I was hurt and sad and tired of feeling that way, but I didn’t want to lose his friendship either.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I told him. “Are you?”

  “No.”

  Even though I was still smarting from his rejection, I believed him. I believed that he cared about me and wanted to stay friends. That was all he’d ever be able to offer me, but it wasn’t nothing. It was more than most people ever got of Wyatt King.

  “Fine,” I said. “All the same, it’s probably best if we give each other a little extra space for a while.”

  His hangdog look got a little more hangdog, but he didn’t argue. “I can keep working on the house though, right?”

  The raindrops were falling with more urgency now, peppering my arms and face as I nodded. “I hope so. I can’t do it without you.”

  “You don’t have to. I promised I’d take care of it and I will.” He wiped the rain off his face and glanced up at the sky.

  My eyes followed his, and I frowned at the storm cloud overhead.

  Wyatt looked back down at me and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything the skies opened up and unleashed a deluge on our heads.

  11

  Wyatt

  Andie and I made a run for the back porch when the skies opened up. Once we were under cover, I turned and looked out at the yard, wiping the water off my face. The rain was pouring down in buckets, pockmarking the ground and collecting in the low spots already, forming muddy pools.

  “So much for getting any work done this morning.”

  “Maybe it won’t last long.” She didn’t sound hopeful.

  “Maybe.” I wasn’t optimistic either. The dark clouds stretched as far as I could see in every direction.

  A gust of wind blew the rain sideways onto the porch, driving us inside the house for shelter. Once we had the door closed, Andie grabbed a couple of dish towels and tossed me one to dry myself off with.

  I wasn’t thrilled about her request for space, but I could understand her need for it. Reluctantly, I might even be willing to admit it was the best thing for both of us right now. I couldn’t risk a repeat of last night, and the closer I was to Andie, the greater chance there was that I’d slip up and act on my feelings for her again.

  As I dried the rain off my arms, my eyes slid over to her and I caught her staring at me. Not in the angry way she’d been glaring at me a few minutes ago, but with a raw, pained expression that made my mouth go dry as she jerked her gaze away from me.

  “Do you have any nine-volt batteries?” I asked, desperate for something to do to keep me busy.

  Frowning in confusion, she swiveled her head back toward me. “Why?”

  “Since I’m here, I thought I might as well check all your smoke detectors and change the batteries.”

  Andie yanked open a kitchen drawer and grabbed a package of batteries. “Knock yourself out.” She slapped them into my hand and stalked
out of the kitchen. “I’ve got laundry to fold.”

  Still pretty pissed at me, then. Cool.

  After fetching Andie’s stepladder out of the laundry room, I got to work on the smoke detectors. She walked past me carrying a laundry basket while I was fiddling with the one in the living room and neither of us said a word. Once I’d finished all the downstairs rooms, I carried the ladder up to the second floor. While I was unscrewing the smoke detector in the hallway, Andie edged around me and went back into her room without a word. I finished up and went into the guest room next, figuring I’d stay out of her hair as long as possible by saving her bedroom for last.

  This guest room didn’t see much use. Andie had converted the other spare bedroom into a sort of workshop for her craft projects, but this one was mostly just storage. I shoved a few boxes out of the way to make room for the stepladder and climbed up to reach the smoke detector. While I was up there I noticed the ladder was a little wobbly, as if the floor underneath was uneven. So when I finished putting in a new battery, I squatted down to examine the floorboards.

  One of them was definitely loose. I pulled a screwdriver out of my tool belt and gently prodded at the edges of the board. It popped right out of place with barely any pressure, and I realized all the nails must have come out.

  Or been removed on purpose.

  There was something down there, in the space underneath the floor. Shoved off to one side, nearly out of sight, were some kind of papers. I reached my hand in the narrow gap between the floorboards and drew out a bundle of old letters tied up with a faded pink ribbon.

  Sitting back on my haunches, I blew the debris off them and tried to make out the faded cursive writing. They were all addressed to a Miss Lillian Autry, which I remembered was the maiden name of Andie’s grandmother who’d left her this house. I flipped through a few of them as I got to my feet, but they were all addressed the same, in the same handwriting, with no return address on the envelopes.