The image of an exploding mountain pops into my head. Feels right. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks for checking.” I turn away, ending the conversation, making it to my door and unlocking it as another voice rumbles through the hallway.
“Walker, you’re being a pouty asshole,” Trips states, standing at the top of the stairs.
The urge to punch him flares, but there is zero chance I’d be able to take him in a fair fight. Yet another thing I can’t do. “What do you care as long as the Rubens gets done, perfect and on time?” I shoot back.
“And how is the Rubens coming?” he asks, a challenge in his stance that tells me he’s ready to lash out, but I don’t know where the sting is going to come from. I only know it’s imminent.
“It’s as good as it can be until I see the original in person. RJ’s working on getting me the correct materials, right?” I turn to RJ, startled to see him looking at me like I’m broken, like I’m something to be pitied.
He nods, but his eyes, goddamn it. One of my closest friends is looking at me like I’m a kid who just found out Santa Claus isn’t real.
Trips stalks down the hall. “Well, I need you functioning, Walker. This mopey bullshit has to end. This gig is serious.And it just got dangerous. Whatever is wrong with you, fix it. Yesterday. Got it?”
“Is that your version of a pep talk, Trips?”
“No. This is a friendly warning.”
“Of course. And the next time, it won’t be so friendly? Are you threatening to beat me up?”
Trips leans against the wall. “No, Walker. There is no next time. There’s just now. And right now, you need to get your head out of your ass, stop running, and fix shit with Clara. I don’t care how you do it. Just do it.” And there’s the sting. Everyone knows I fucked shit up with Clara. No one else weaponized it, though.
“Now you’re giving me relationship advice? Really, Trips? When was the last time youdatedanyone? What the hell do you know?” I take a step toward him, my anger stealing my better judgment.
RJ cuts in, and suddenly it’s worse. Everything is worse. Because now there are teams. Everyone else against me. “Walker, we know you. And you’re not yourself. We just want you, I don’t know, happier? Less brittle? Something needs to change.”
The grin I put on is tight across my cheeks, and I can tell it’s not convincing either of them. “I’m fine. Thank you both for your concern, but I’m fine. No worries.” I need to get out of this hallway. I need to leave this house, get back to the studio, and try to work. To finish something, anything. To at least be able to do one thing, even if I’m a useless prick with everything else, to finish one stupid piece without it turning into a half-done drawing of the girl I’m not good enough for. Just one place where I’m enough.
Neither of them says anything as I walk into my room, leaving them both staring at my back.
It’s not until the door clicks behind me that I realize they saw my scabs, the small secret thing just between Clara and me. They saw them. Fading evidence of the magnitude of my fuckup. I didn’t even last twenty-four hours with the best fucking thing that I ever could have had.
She’ll be better off with them, one of them, any of them.
I wipe a single angry tear off my cheek. Goddamn it.
Please. Just give me one thing. One little thing. Anything.
Chapter 23
Clara
We’re halfway to Chicago and I still can’t get Walker to talk to me. I tried easing into it—he changed the subject to the weather, of all the damn things. I tried an awkward silence. He turned on the radio. I even tried holding his hand, but he wiggled out to take a sip of his kombucha and pointedly put his hand back on the steering wheel.
We’re almost to Wisconsin Dells and I’ve run out of ideas. Tucking my knees under my chin, I stare at the passing landscape, a violent wind buffeting Walker’s SUV as we go. I’m glad I’m not the one driving. Holding the car steady when the wind picks up like this is exhausting. I take out my phone, pulling open my chat with Jansen.
SOS
I wait for a response, sipping the Diet Coke I grabbed for the road.
Hey beautiful! What fire are we fighting?
I grin, happy to hear from him, even if it’s just texting. I’ve been trying not to distract him from whatever it is he’s doing down in Kansas City so he can get home sooner.
Is a mopey Walker a fire? If so, I need some help finding the extinguisher.
LOL. You could always just dump some water over his head. Always gets him sputtering.
I laugh out loud, and Walker glances at me, but switches back to the road before we make eye contact.