Page 15 of Merciless Mountain Man

That was putting it lightly. It was the very thing I would have said to one of my fellow crew members, along with words like, “She ain’t worth it, bro.” Because I honestly felt that way. No woman was worth moping around and drinking sweet tea instead of gin and tonic. Actually, most of the guys I worked with would be drowning their sorrows with the hard stuff right now.

But it was different. Cassady was different. She was definitely worth every bit of the gut punch I’d been delivered. She was worth last night’s lack of sleep and today’s foul mood. She was worth all of it.

It just appeared she didn’t feel the same way about me. I wasn’t even worth a return text.

“Damn chicks,” Memphis said. “What are you going to do?”

It wasn’t like the guys on my crew to get that personal. I should tell him to fuck off. But oddly, I found myself wanting to open up to him. In fact, if I didn’t talk to someone, I might burst.

“Everything seemed to be going fine, and she just went cold on me,” I said.

I ran it over and over in my mind a million times. Had I been too rough on her? I didn’t think so. Maybe I’d gone too deep there at the end. I tried my best to be careful not to hurt her.

That wouldn’t be it, though. Physical pain, we could deal with together. This was something bigger.

“Maybe she just used me,” I said out loud.

“Man, you’re a legend,” Memphis said. “I’ve heard for years how you blow through women like they’re dollar bills at a strip club.”

That one took me a second. I never went to strip clubs, and I also didn’t blow through women.

“Is that what people say about me?” I asked.

“It’s what I’ve always heard.”

“Yeah, well, I might have gone over to Adairsville and picked up a few women when I was new to town. I was coming out of the military and celebrating my civilian life a little too much.”

“It’s a good thing,” he said. “I swore off dating a couple of years ago. Just not worth the hard work.”

“Amen.”

And that was exactly how I’d felt forty-eight hours ago. But that was before I met Cassady. The second I laid eyes on her, something had shifted in me. I wasn’t the same man I’d been before.

All my buddies were coupling up. They’d met women around Cassady’s age, fallen in love, and found their happily-ever-afters.

None of that was for me. I’d laughed it off. I distinctly remembered standing around with the guys, scoffing at the idea that someday I’d find a woman and settle down.

“You know what?” Memphis asked. “If you do find one that’s worth it, you should fight for her. If not, you’ll always wonder, ‘What if?’”

I continued staring at the golf game, which had now cut to a commercial for toilet paper. My mind was spinning, so I barely noticed.

I’d always wonder. Yes, I definitely would. If I let Cassady drop me like I was old news, I’d spend the rest of my lifewondering where I’d gone wrong and what might’ve happened if I’d fought for her.

“You know what?” I asked. “Hey, bartender.”

When he didn’t respond, Memphis helped me out. “His name’s Pauly.”

“Pauly, scratch that meal.” I pulled out my wallet and extracted a five-dollar bill to pay for the tea. Then I looked at Memphis. “Thanks, man. I owe you a drink next time we’re here together.”

“Go get her,” he said. “Just return the favor someday if I need some advice.”

I smiled. “You’ve got it.”

I was no relationship expert, that was for sure. But I had learned a few things from this experience. One of those things was to trust my gut. And my gut was telling me something wasn’t right.

Cassady was attracted to me. I had to get to the root of where I’d gone wrong.

And I was pretty sure I knew exactly where to find her.

---