Page 36 of The Bridges I've Burned

He was asking for a lot. Every time I had seen that hopeful smile on Marin’s face this morning, after hearing those words Zander had said last night, it’d felt like a betrayal.

“No. It’s hard to keep something like this from her, but I don’t want her to carry that burden today.”

“Thank you.”

“Look, I don’t know what happened between the two of you,” I started. “But could you at least?—”

But just like before, he rose from his spot on the couch and headed toward the hallway. “I’m gonna go rest up before the party. I’ll see you later.”

But unlike before, he never returned. He stayed in his room, and I didn’t see him for the rest of the day.

CHAPTER SIX

“Why the fuck are you FaceTiming me?” I asked the second after I answered.

Hendrix was a diehard texter, who only called when it was necessary—so, basically, when he was in the car, or vice versa.

“Damn, you look fine,” he said, ignoring my question altogether, as a wide grin spread across his face.

I’d been in the middle of getting ready for the party when my phone started to vibrate from across the room. He’d caught me in the middle of trying to tie my tie, which was difficult in its own right but more so when I didn’t have a proper mirror to use.

The round teak mirror above the dresser was nice but way too small when you were a towering six foot three. Clearly, Macon hadn’t designed this rental for himself.

“While you’re here,” I grumbled.

I held the strip of fabric out in front of me. He sighed.

“Put the phone on the dresser,” he instructed. “I don’t know why you still can’t fucking do this.”

“I don’t know,” I answered. “Maybe it’s one of those things that if you’re not taught at a young age, you simply can’t do it.”

“Bullshit. Presley can do it, and she learned from a YouTube video in five minutes.”

Presley was one of the Creed sisters, and, yes, if you couldn’t tell, they had all been named after famous musicians.

Their family was…unique.

“I confess,” I deadpanned, “I just like asking you for help.”

“I knew it. We’ve been living together so long that you’ve become dependent on me. What will we do when you finally con some poor woman into marrying you? How is she going to compete with all this?” He motioned to himself in a dramatic fashion.

“Well, since that’s never gonna happen, I guess it doesn’t really matter, does it?” I said, but the moment I did, Elena’s face popped into my mind, and I felt my insides twist.

I hadn’t seen her since I’d walked out of the living room earlier today.

Her questions regarding Macon didn’t anger me.

They made me feel exposed.

Like she’d peeled back the thick layers I’d so carefully constructed around myself that no one else managed to reach.

And…I didn’t know what to make of that.

So, I’d hightailed it out of there and hidden in my room for the rest of the day.

Really mature, Zander.

Now, it was nearly time to go, and I had about a hundred different emotions going through my head. I was on edge at the very idea of showing up at a party in my hometown after all this time.

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