Page 28 of Every Promise Broken

Wagging his brows at me, Shooter asks, “You sure about that?”

I heave a sigh, sitting back in the booth. “You’re a child. I’m never telling you anything ever again.”

“Oh, yes, you are.” He chuckles. “I want to know everything that happens while you’re staying there.”

“Absolutely not.”

“What do you think sleeping beside him is going to be like? Think you guys will fuck?”

“No, Shooter!” I blow out a breath. “We are not having sex.”

“Oh, come on, Whit. Where’s the fun in that?”

“It’s not supposed to be fun.”

“Real talk, though,” he murmurs as his eyes narrow in on me. “Why aren’t you telling Conrad that you and Reggie broke up?”

Underneath the sarcasm and snark, Shooter is a truly caring friend. I know it’s impossible to see from the outside because he’s constantly joking around or being a dick, but he’s one of my closest friends for a reason. We’ve known each other for a really long time, and despite all of our vast differences, we have a few very important things in common that help me feel connected to him.

Like our dad’s, for example.

Our “daddy issues,” as Shooter calls them, are different, but they affect us similarly. Clay Graham is a retired world champion bronc rider, and he had big shoes to fill and high expectations of his son. The pressure to be the best was hard on Shooter. So hard, in fact, that he ended up taking almost an entire season off because he couldn’t handle it anymore. He went to therapy, which I was proud of him for, and he’s working on mending his relationship with his dad, but it really strained his bond with him, and probably always will.

And I can relate.

Like Shooter, I followed in my father’s footsteps career wise, but that’s not where my issues stem from. Whittaker Bowman Senior is old-fashioned in many ways, and when his sixteen-year-old son came out to him as gay, he had a hard time accepting that. Eventually, he came around to the idea, but it wasn’t until many years later, and the damage was already done. Our relationship has always been difficult because of that. The memory of my father—my hero at the time, the man who I looked up to the most in life—kicking me out at sixteen, is something that will be burned in my mind for the rest of my life, no matter how much I wish I could move past it.

I truly think it’s our trauma with our dads that brought Shooter and I as close as we are because, on paper, we’re nothingalike. On paper, we shouldn’t be friends. But regardless of his teasing and his obnoxious behavior half the time, I trust Shooter inexplicably, and I know at the end of the day, he’ll never judge me. Even if I can’t stop judging myself. Which is why I find myself letting my walls down a bit, to be honest with him.

“Because Reggie feels like a safety net, I think,” I murmur, knowing it makes no sense. “Being around Conrad makes me nervous. As much as I’m over him and what we went through, I can’t help but wonder what would happen behind closed doors if I didn’t have a safety net. If I don’t admit to him that Reggie and I broke up, then it’s like I can be assured nothing will happen.”

That logic is flawed in so many ways. Namely, the fact that when I reallywasstill with Reggie, it didn’t matter. Conrad and I hooked up anyway. None of my reasoning makes sense, but I’m desperately clinging to it, regardless. My delusional logic is all I have, and it’s the only thing making what’s to come seem even minutely manageable.

All traces of humor are gone from Shooter, and while I appreciate it, I know that it must mean that he can see how badly I’m flailing. “Are you still in love with him?” he asks.

“No, of course not,” I reply too quickly. And I’m not. I’m not in love with Conrad. That ship has sailed. Whatever it is that I’m feeling has everything to do with my stress and nothing to do with my feelings for Conrad.

“You know, it would be okay if you were,” he nudges, tone almost gentle. “He was a huge part of your life for so many years.”

“I know that, but I’m not in love with Conrad. I’m doing this as a favor to him, and for his nana. That’s it.” Shoving my plate forward because I’ve lost my appetite, I ask, “Can we talk about something else now, please?”

Shooter holds up his hands innocently. “Okay, okay, but just know, jokes aside, I’m always here if you need to talk.”

My chest tightens at his sincerity. “I know. Thank you.”

It’s not long after that, Sterling shows up and joins us. After we finish at the diner, we head over to the theater on the other side of town. A new superhero movie is out, and we’ve been talking about seeing it for a while. Some overpriced popcorn, candy, and a dark theater with a couple of my friends turns out to be exactly what I needed.

By the time I get home, I feel lighter. After I change into a pair of pajamas, I make myself some lavender tea, taking it onto the back porch as I watch the sun set in the distance. It’s relaxing out here. I love it. Thinking back to when I still lived at the ranch, all the time I spent on the porch swing overlooking the yard. Early mornings when the rest of the world was still waking up. Late at night after work, when I needed to decompress.

That porch swing is still there, and if there’s one thing to look forward to about my upcoming stay, it’s that I’ll get to relax in that swing again. And the cooking. Conrad always has been an amazing cook. And his shower. It has the perfect water pressure, and I swear I haven’t taken as good of a shower as I did back then since I moved out. So, maybe instead of stressing about all the bad that could go wrong, maybe I’ll allow myself to soak in the good things that could come from it, because it won’t be all bad.

The swing, yes, but also seeing Conrad’s nana. I’ve always loved her, felt close with her from the very first time I met her, even if she can be a bit much at times. Being around her is incredible. She’s got a laugh that’s infectious and a way of making everybody feel the warmth of her love. She’s one of the best women I’ve ever met.

I’ve still got a few weeks until she gets to town, and I think if I focus on the good, I’ll be okay. Yes, this experience is bound to be awkward and uncomfortable, but it doesn’t have to be horrible if I don’t let it. I can do this.

And besides, it’s only temporary.

I’m goingto be sick.

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