I stand just around the corner of the house, unmoving. I need to go back inside, especially because Haley and Penn have returned. But I can’t. My feet won’t move.
That’s probably for the best since I want to put a fist down Penn Etling’s throat. Not because he’s wrong. But because he’s right.
They say the truth is sometimes hard to hear, and that’s certainly accurate this time around.
“I just don’t think Kelly is the kind of guy that’s gonna stay with a woman long term.”
My teeth grind together as the weight of Penn’s words trickles through my mind. The bastard is right. I’ve never been that guy. I haven’t wanted to be. It’s against my code of conduct.
Why stay with a woman when you know how badly it’ll end? When she wants a house and kids and a commitment of forever and you can’t guarantee that? Tera’s face, tear-stricken and pale, slides through my mind, and my stomach lurches.
I gag, imagining Haley looking at me in the same way, all because I changed my mind. All because I told her I was just learning about myself and realized I had it wrong and it wasn’t fair to either one of us to stay in a relationship that wasn’t right.
That I didn’t want to resent her for making me not take certain jobs or not live in certain places all because I told her I wouldn’t years before.
That I didn’t want to break her heart, but if I didn’t, I’d obliterate it because I’d already checked out.
Fear paralyzes me as reality crystallizes in my mind. The little games I’ve been telling myself—thinking I could figure it out, see her a couple of times a month, that she isn’t like other girls, who expect the impossible—end in a checkmate.
I lose.
Because even if she did buy that line of bullshit, she deserves more. She deserves to get what she wants out of life, just like I do. And if I pull some wool over her eyes to keep her for myself when I’m not sure I can return the favor, that makes me the worst.
I’m already pretty fucking bad for keeping it going this long.
The door opens again and I hear steps on the porch. I peer around the corner to see Haley looking toward the barn.
“Hey,” I say, walking toward her. “I was looking for you.”
It’s a lie and she knows it.
Maybe Penn’s words put her on guard, but there’s a shield between the two of us that slices me to the core. That’s not how it’s supposed to be with us. It feels so wrong.
It is so wrong.
But isn’t this whole thing so wrong?
“Where have you been?” she asks.
“I went down to the pond with Dane, then came back out to look for you. Must’ve missed you inside,” I say.
She nods. “Mia’s friends will be showing up soon . . .”
Here it is, the opening to have the conversation that will make me feel like the biggest asshole in the universe. She wants it now. I don’t blame her. Getting it over with is preferable to milking it over the evening.
But if I yank the bandage off now, I’ll have to go. And if I have to go, there’s a ninety-nine percent chance I might not ever see her again.
I swallow back a layer of bile.
“Do you, um, want to go for a walk?” I ask.
“No. I want to talk right here.”
“Okay.” I force a swallow. “I’m heading back to Nashville in the morning.”
She nods, her jaw tense.
“I mean, I have to work.”
She waits for the rest of it. The bomb to drop. The part where I kill both of our dreams with a couple of quick, pussy-mumbled lines before running to my truck and getting the hell out of here.
But as I look at her, the woman who has captured my attention unlike any other, I can’t do it. I can’t walk away from her. I can’t lose her—not entirely.
Thinking I’ll never hear her laugh again or have someone call me “Thief,” to wrap my brain around the idea of never waking up next to her again, makes me physically ill.
How can someone you just met a few weeks ago already mean more to you than some people you’ve known your whole life? And why does that have to happen?