cute. I wish Cheyenne could see him.”
At the mention of her name, my chest caved in. It was unfathomable to me that I’d never hold her again, kiss her again, make her smile, make her laugh, hear her whisper my name while I moved inside her.
Was this really all my fault? Was Mariah right? Had I not loved her the right way? Had I not loved her enough? Had I not tried hard enough to show it?
I had no idea anymore. All I knew was that I was back at the bottom of the rut with no light above me and no way out, sinking in the muck. And it felt like I’d thrown myself there.
When Griffin texted and asked me to go out for a beer that night, I almost turned him down. I was exhausted, I was behind on packing for the move, and I didn’t necessarily want to hear a lecture. No doubt Cheyenne had told her family about the breakup. Was he going to be angry with me for hurting her? He understood that it had been her choice, right?
In the end, I decided to meet him, if only to get out of my bedroom. The walls were closing in on me.
We met at the pub and sat at the bar. McIntyre came over and poured us a couple beers. For a few minutes, we nursed them in silence. Since I’d sort of felt like a kid sitting in the principal’s office waiting to get in trouble, I was a little surprised that he wasn’t talking.
“How was your trip to Nashville?” I asked.
“It was good. Blair’s family is . . . something else.”
“You got along with them?”
“I did, but four days of Beaufort will last me a while.”
I almost laughed.
“So what’s going on with you?” he asked, casually sipping his beer. It was obvious he knew.
“I take it you’ve talked to Cheyenne.”
“Yes.”
“Is she . . . okay?”
“No, Cole. She isn’t.”
I felt like he’d punched me in the gut. “Fuck.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t even know.” I straightened up in my seat. “One minute things were fine, and the next she was crying.” I felt my lip begin to twitch.
“Really?”
I slumped over again. Elbows on the bar, head in my hands. “No.”
We sat in silence for a minute. Griffin nursed his beer. “Look, I don’t want you to be mad at this, but I also talked to Beckett and Moretti.”
“About me?” Sitting back, I glared at him. “What the fuck for?”
“Because we’re worried about you, Cole. You’re not okay.”
I stared at the surface of the bar, scuffed and nicked and beat-up from years of abuse. “No. I’m not.”
“So I’m going to ask you about some stuff, and don’t bother lying. You’re the fucking worst liar in the world, and we both know it.”
I grimaced. “Fine.”
“Who’s having the nightmares? You or Mariah?”
“Me,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Did you lie about that to my sister because you don’t trust her?”
I shook my head. “I lied because I was ashamed.”
“Okay. So far, so good. But this next one might be tough.” He fortified himself with another sip of his beer first. “Did you fuck shit up with Cheyenne so that you wouldn’t have to deal with your glass-half-empty attitude?”
I glared at him again. “It’s more than that and you know it.”
“You’re right. It’s more than that, which is why you need to be talking to someone who isn’t a mechanic right now. I can fix anything under the hood, because I can see it.” He reached over and rapped on my skull with his knuckles. “But whatever’s wrong under there needs somebody else.”
“I’m not fucking broken,” I said defensively, pushing his hand away. “Maybe this is just the way I am, and people around me need to deal with it.”
“Maybe,” he agreed with a shrug.
“See? This is why I was better off alone. I don’t know why no one believed me.”
He held up his hands. “Totally fine. If you wanted to be alone for the rest of your life, Cole, that would be A-OK with me. I’ll still be your friend. But that’s not what you want.”
I scowled, because he was right.
“Last question. Are you in love with her?”
“Yes.” That one was easy.
“Then I lied. I have another question. Do you remember what you said to me when I was being a dipshit about Blair? When I broke up with her and told her to leave because I never wanted to need someone?”
I tried to recall my exact words but couldn’t. “No.”
“Well,