was going on. He was as lost as I was. He looked at his fiancée like he might be able to glean the information from the side of her face.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Very sure,” she whispered, shooting a look back at the bathroom.
Maybe I was a distraction? Maybe Sloan felt like I could get Kristen’s mind off Tyler? I had no illusions that Sloan didn’t know we’d hooked up. Kristen would definitely have told her. So Sloan knew what she was asking.
I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to be wherever Kristen was. And if Sloan thought it was okay that I stay, that’s what I was going to do.
I stayed.
Brandon and I headed back to the garage. He had a few projects I could help him with, and the house felt like it was zoned for the women at the moment.
“What do you think that was about?” Brandon asked as soon as we were alone.
He was talking about Sloan’s intervention, not Kristen’s crying. Given Kristen’s recent breakup, the crying was understandable.
I sat on a stool at the workbench and shrugged. “I think she’s fucked up about Tyler and Sloan thinks I’ll get her mind off it.”
His brow furrowed and he reached for his beer. He held it in his lap and tapped it absently with his pinky. “I don’t know. I’m a little surprised Kristen’s having this reaction to it, if I’m being honest. I’ve never seen her like that. Not even when her grandmother died. She’s pretty tough.” He pulled on his beer, looking as perplexed as I felt.
We sat there, both of us looking confused, like we’d stumbled into some sort of foreign female territory.
Usually if I walked into a crying-woman situation that I wasn’t directly the cause of, I’d back away slowly and let the ladies work it out among themselves. But it bothered me that she was hurting. I wished she would talk to me.
Fuck, she used to talk to me.
Brandon looked at me. “What happened when you went over there today?”
I shook my head. “She was the same. Kind of cold. Kicked me out. Said she was on her period so we couldn’t have sex.”
“Do you think it was an excuse?” he asked.
“No. I believed her.” If Kristen didn’t want to have sex, I had no doubt in my mind that she’d just come out and say it. I didn’t think the period thing was made up, especially because she’d offered me alternatives. But that was twice in a month.
Maybe she had issues with her periods. My sister Laura did too, and she used the same heavy-duty stuff Kristen did.
Brandon set his beer down and went back to looking at the busted kitchen cabinet door he was working on. “Help me with this thing. I’m going to try to fix the hinge.”
He had an impressive workbench with neon Corona beer signs hanging over it. Two large, red, rolling tool chests sat against the wall next to cabinets he’d built himself for all his power tools. It was a good thing he was properly equipped, because the house he’d bought with Sloan needed work.
We fiddled with projects for a half an hour. I kept looking at the door that led into the house. I knew Kristen was on the other side, making dinner with Sloan. I could feel her.
On an impulse I got up. “I’ll be right back.”
I walked in to the smell of garlic and basil and found Kristen sitting at the kitchen table with Stuntman Mike. Sloan stood over a steaming pot. The girls both froze immediately.
Kristen and I stared at each other for a moment. “Can we talk for a second?” I asked, nodding to the living room.
Sloan shot her a glance.
Kristen stood, setting down her dog. “Sure.”
I followed her into the living room and she turned to me, her arms crossed. “What?”
“Well,” I said, crossing my arms too. “You and I are going to be spending a lot of time together in the next few weeks with the wedding and everything. I think we should talk about the elephant in the room—you following me over here.”
I got her. Her lips twisted into a reluctant smile.
Her eyes were puffy. Red. She looked sad and beaten. I wanted to pull her into my chest and hold her, tell her Tyler was a fucking dick for leaving her. The urge was so intense I had to clench my fists to keep myself from reaching out. But I sensed she wouldn’t let me if