“You didn’t take the hint that maybe I didn’t want to be found when you woke up and I was gone?” I shake my head. “What are you doing here, Walker?”
“I’m here for you. And for Jake.”
He stops in front of me; his Brooks hockey T-shirt hugs his biceps, and I want to crash against him and let him hold me tight.
I can’t get used to him always being here to make it all better though. He’s proven before that when given the chance, he will leave. So, instead, I take a step back.
“I can’t do this today,” I whisper. “You need to go.”
His hands ball at his sides, and he groans in frustration. “So, that’s how it will always be then? You don’t trust me, and you never will? Or what? Just tell me what I have to do, and I’ll do it.”
“I can’t do this!” I hiss. “I need to go home and get ready for work. I still have to finish writing my brother’s obituary. I need to go to the trailer and go through nearly two decades of shit. All while catching a bus to all of these places.” I suck in a breath through my nose, frustrated. “I don’t have time to unbox whatever the hell is going on inside your head today.”
“You shouldn’t work today, Poppy,” he says. His eyes stare into mine, making me feel completely naked. “Can I go in and see Jake?”
I fold my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes. “Are you just going to get his hopes up that you’ll be around and then leave again? He has had enough people do that to him. He doesn’t need to survive you doing it…twice.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He looks sad and almost defeated. “I just want to be there for him through this. For you too.”
Glancing back at Jake’s apartment door, I sigh. “Go on. But I’m leaving. I have to go get ready for work.”
“Poppy, you should—”
“Not all of us have endless money from our uncles, Walker! Goddamn it!” I hiss. “Don’t you get it? Even to have Van cremated is going to take every cent of money I’ve saved up.”
Realization flashes on his face, and he swallows before heading toward the apartment. When he gets right next to me, he stops. “I’m here. I will be here from now on.”
I close my eyes, and a shooting pain soars through my chest.
“You’ve said that before,” I mutter before I start to walk away.
“Poppy,” he calls out.
When I look over my shoulder, he turns to face me again.
“Take my truck. The keys are in it.” He jerks his chin toward the Chevy. “I don’t have practice until later. I can catch a ride with one of the guys.”
I can’t drive his truck. Though it would make things easier for the tasks at hand, it would make everything even more confusing in my heart.
“Thank you,” I say, dropping my shoulders. “But I’m all set.”
“Use the fucking truck, Pop,” he growls.
Right now, I can’t do this. A month ago, I would have loved for him to act like he cared. But at this moment in time, I’m at my limit of what I can do. And letting Walker into my life isn’t one of them.
Between planning this funeral and practices this week for my performance in The Nutcracker…my plate isn’t just full. It’s freaking overflowing.
I head to the bus stop when he walks into Jake’s apartment. Because I’m not about to let Walker James think that I cannot live without his help.
Walker
What a little shit. I watch out the window as Poppy walks to the bus stop and takes a seat on the bench. Even though I just told her—no, demanded that she take my truck. I want to help her through this week. I want to make it easier on her, though I know that’ll be a hard job.
It’s hard to help someone who won’t accept a damn bit of help though.
“She will come around,” Jake says from the couch. “She’s just…tough.”
“You’re not joking.” I breathe out a laugh. “That’s one word to describe your sister.”