Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,99
our group, I head into the club to return the keys to the golf cart. As I turn to leave, I spot a familiar face by the door. There’s no way to avoid him if I want to get out of here, so I head over, giving him a chin lift.
“Hey, Knox. Good to see ya, man,” J.T. says, running a hand through his hair. The sunlight from the glass door catches the gold band on his finger.
“Yeah. I guess congratulations are in order,” I tell him, feeling slightly bitter. Not because he’s with my ex, but because he looks so damn happy and I know why. And I don’t have that. Not anymore.
He’s not smug. He’s also not apologetic. “Look, man, I’d apologize, but that’d make me a damn liar. I’m not sorry Gwen and I fell in love. I never touched her while you were together. I respected you too much for that.”
Without skipping a beat, I wave him off. “Water under the bridge, J.T. Gwen and I had no future. She just realized it before I did.”
He hesitates then nods. “Glad to hear it. We weren’t sure, with you taking off for the summer and all. You pretty much up and vanished after the wedding invitations went out. Odd for you, since you usually spend all your summers working for your pop.”
J.T.’s watching me, and even though he’s never been one to gossip, I can tell he’s interested. Whether it’s to make him feel better that I wasn’t off pining over his new wife or he’s genuinely curious, I’m not sure.
“Yeah, Mom decided I needed a break from that before senior year. My parents got me a place in Crystal Cove, a few hours from here. I spent the summer fixing it up.”
He tilts his head then snaps his fingers. “Crystal Cove. My grandma has a place out there. Man, I haven’t been there since I was a kid.” He chuckles. “Maybe I’ll have to take Gwen there sometime. I wonder if my cousin still goes there.”
My curiosity piques. “Cousin?”
“Yeah. Shit, I haven’t seen her since…” He pauses, his eyes darkening. “The funeral four years ago. Some cousin I am.”
Her. Funeral. Four years. My ears start to ring.
There’s no way. Tennessee isn’t that big, but the likelihood that J.T. and Amelia are related is slim. Isn’t it? Still. I have to ask.
“Funeral?”
I don’t even care that I’ve been reduced to one-word questions.
As J.T. slips his hands into his pockets, something dark crosses his features. “Her parents—my mom’s brother and his wife—were killed in a storm a few years ago. She was with them. It was fucking brutal, man. Seeing her at the funeral? All pale and small?” He lets out a low laugh, one laced with shame, not amusement. “Geez, I’m a fucking asshole.”
Yeah, I know the feeling.
It’s been eight damn months since I started trying to do everything possible to get Amelia off my mind, and even though I thought I’d been winning, one mention of her from J.T. completely unravels everything.
I may have a poker face in the boardroom, but I clearly do not when it comes to Amelia.
“What’s with the face, Wellington?” J.T. asks, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Your cousin. Amelia?”
Those same eyebrows rise in surprise. “You met her?”
“Yeah, I met her.”
“How’s she doin’?”
“I…I don’t know.”
And it hits me.
I don’t have a fucking clue how Amelia is doing and I fucking hate it.
It’s unacceptable, and I have the power to fix it.
Fix everything.
“J.T., it’s been nice catching up but I’ve gotta run.”
“What’s up? Where you going in a hurry?”
“I’ve gotta get back to Crystal Cove.”
A steady hand catches my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “Did something happen between you two?”
I pause, my eyes meeting his curious ones. “Yeah, J.T. Something happened. I fucking realized what Gwen and I never had. What you two do. I fell in love with Amelia and I walked away like the world’s biggest moron. And now? I’m going to fucking fix it.”
Two hours later, Mom finds me in my bedroom, packing a duffel bag. I’m lost in thought, with Genesis playing on my boombox, when a throat clears, tearing me out of my one-track mind.
“Going somewhere?” she asks as she leans against my doorjamb, eyeing me with concern. “And more importantly, have you told your father?”
Fuck. Spring break starts next week and I’m set to shadow Dad, him calling it a “trial run” before I get to put my nameplate at the Wellington Enterprises table.