Page 81 of Worthy

Cade stands before me, hands buried in his pockets. My stance mirrors his. And even though this moment is as awkward as the car ride, I don’t want it to end, because when it does, our time together really will be over.

I’m not sure how long we stand there, acting more like strangers than lovers, before I finally find my voice. “I couldn’t have asked for a better summer.” I think my voice cracks on that last word, but I press on. “Thank you.”

He nods his head, lips pressed in a firm line.

″Maybe I’ll see you around?” I say lamely.

Cade seems to start, like my words have only just reached him. “Here.” He presses something cold and hard into my hand. “This belongs to you.”

I look down and see the flower we made together in his shop.

″I realized this morning I never did get you flowers.” He shrugs, a sad smile on his face. “I don’t know if that’s a thing guys do, but since you’re a plant guy I probably should’ve. At least this won’t wilt.”

“An eternal bloom.” I mean to think that, but when Cade utters a muffled “yeah”I realize I spoke aloud. ″Thank you.” I turn the metal over in my hands, frowning when I notice a wet mark on it.Is that…?

Cade steps to me and cradles my face in his hands, wiping away a tear I didn’t realize I’d shed. Then he touches his lips to mine, giving me a kiss so tender and delicate I very nearly say the words I promised not to say unless he did. But he speaks first.

″Take care of yourself, Solo,” he whispers.

My heart plummets to my stomach. I know he’s trying to make this easier, but the nickname causes the cracks in my heart to fracture completely. “You too,” I grunt, spinning away before my eyes can find his one last time.

Chapter twenty-two

Cade

Nights are the hardest. That’s when the loneliness is the most crushing, because now all the things I used to do with Maddox I have to do alone. Even though that was the case before he came into my life, and it never bothered me, I hate it now.

Deacon and the guys think hanging out with them will make it all better, divert my attention or something. That only makes me miss him more, because as much as I like those guys, their antics don’t interest me the way they used to. I couldn’t care less about chasing girls. I couldn’t care less about getting drunk. I couldn’t care less about what’s happening around town. Besides, going anywhere would only expose me to the talk I know is going around, and for the first time in my life I can’t stomach it.

Maddox may not have realized I was in love with him, but there’s no doubt the whole town knew. They saw the changes in me and were happy for me, but now, that’s turned into sympathy and pity, which makes my stomach churn. They don’t mean anything by it, but seeing the sorrow mirrored back at me over and over again is too much. So, I don’t go out anymore. Not to The Underground, not to the concerts and end-of-summer festivals, not even to do my errands. I drive to thenext town over for those, where I’m less likely to run into anyone I know.

Or anyone I know well enough to ask about Maddox anyway, because if someone did, I don’t have an answer to give.

We haven’t communicated at all since he left. Total radio silence. I guess I should be glad he’s making a clean break, not drawing things out and making it even more difficult to get over him. I might resent it a little though, because he’s apparently fine without me, and I’m wrecked without him. Barely surviving and keeping it together by staying busy so I don’t have time to think—to remember.

I hope closing the books on his uncle’s project today will help with that, because I can’t stand to be at this place without him. Normally, I’d leave this part to my dad, but without Maddox here, and to keep myself occupied, I’ve started to take on a bigger role in the business. Given how this was my job site, Dad wants me to do the final review, so for the first time since he left I’m back at the place that felt like ours mere weeks ago.

″I know, you’ve never been good at sitting still,” Dad says, “but you’re driving me nuts.”

″Sorry.” I stop pacing and take a seat on one of the chairs to wait for Rick.

″You never told him how you feel, did you?” He sounds disappointed.

″I couldn’t do that to him.” I rest my arms on my knees and shake my head.

″Do what exactly? Make him happy? Because he looked pretty damn happy when I saw him.” He rocks back and forth in his chair.

″For the summer, yeah. But long term? He’s too smart and driven to be happy with a guy like me,” I say softly.

″Was that really your decision to make?” He stares at me pointedly.

″Yes,” I insist. “I’d just hold him back.”

″Why, because you don’t have a PhD?”

″Among other things,” I snap.

″Don’t tell me you’re intimidated by the fact he’s smart.”

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