her. I’d rather step in front of a bus than do that to Iris.
“If you know that, then why are we having this conversation?” Ramon growls.
I blow out a breath. My lungs work fine, but I still don’t feel like I’m really breathing. “She asked me to go back with her. To live in L.A.”
Ramon’s murderous expression eases. “Oh. Cool. Problem solved.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I can’t go.” I don’t think Ramon knows anything about Mom, and I don’t need to go into it right now. “Family stuff.”
He frowns again, but this time, it lacks all the wrath he was giving me a second ago. I know from living through the storm with Iris that family is everything to Ramon. He stares at me for a long moment, and I think I even see compassion in his eyes.
“Dude, you can’t ask her to stay here.”
“I didn’t,” I say with force. “I wouldn’t.”
His eyes narrow. “Did she ask to stay?”
I huff. “More like flat out declared she was staying.”
Ramon rolls his eyes. “Iris.”
Both of us look through the window and watch her own the spotlight. Raven is doing some kind of spell, summoning power from above her while a bright green basilisk-shaped puppet writhes on the floor of the chapel. Iris said that later on, CGI will replace the puppet with an animation that looks like an actual monster.
But right now, her command of the scene is so intense, I almost believe I’m watching someone with supernatural powers face off against a giant serpent.
“She’s so damn young,” Ramon mutters. I glance over at him and realize he and I are probably about the same age. “She and Sally both.”
It hits me that I’m not the only one who’s staring down a broken heart. Ramon and Sally have been inseparable all summer. She starts her new job next week, and he goes back to California with Iris.
“Shit,” I mutter. “What are y’all gonna do?”
Ramon shrugs. “I asked her to come to L.A. She said no.”
Ouch.
“She says she’s been in school forever. She’s worked hard to get a position at this really swanky school in Edmond—apparently, it’s some richy-rich suburb of Oklahoma City—” I think he wants to sound dismissive, but all I really hear is pride. I know how that feels. I’m so damn proud of Iris. “She says she has shit to prove.”
I nod. I get that too.
Ramon whips his head back to me. “You can’t let her stay, Beau. You can’t hold her back.”
My gut churns. “I’d never hold her back.”
He pushes himself to his feet. “Good. She’s auditioning for a sitcom next week. And she’s got a really good shot at it.” He cracks a rueful smile. “And unless she’s had a change of heart about Swamp People, you can’t pull off a show from down in the bayou.”
It’s late. The crew wound up making reshoots until after dark. I stayed the whole time. I stayed and watched Iris, trying to burn every scene, every look, every smile into my memory.
We’re back at her place now, and I know what I have to do.
Iris knows something’s wrong, and I hate that. For her and for me. I don’t want to hurt her. It’s going to crush me to hurt her.
But I won’t rob her of her dreams.
I just have to keep reminding myself how young she is. It’ll hurt, but she’ll recover. And in time, she’ll see that I did what was best. That I was looking out for her. Maybe she’ll even forgive me.
She keeps watching me, her eyes alert and cautious. I’d say something, but Sally and Ramon are still shuffling through the house, tending to nightly routines. Ramon probably knows something’s up, but Sally’s oblivious, chattering away about the day and the fantastic dance scene.
It feels like eons ago.
I offer to take Mica out into the yard just to get some air. The night is heavy and cicadas buzz like chainsaws. Mosquitos dive bomb me almost immediately.
No peace out here. Maybe none anywhere.
“Hurry up, Mica,” I urge.
The back door opens, and I turn to find Iris in the doorway silhouetted by the kitchen light. The pale nightgown she’s wearing clings to her, its lace skimming her thighs. My dick pulses and my breath shortens before my heart sinks.
I will never have her again.
“You okay?” she calls.
I grit my teeth and brace myself to do the most awful thing I’ve ever done.
“I’m coming,” I answer, dodging her question. I’m not okay. I’m the furthest fucking thing