Page 114 of Stuck With You
Carson stifles a laugh as I turn my head to look at him. “Are you logging a spreadsheet? And why the hell are you talking like that?”
He straightens. “Just being an accountability partner, and Millie’s been watching Downton Abbey. The dialect gets stuck in my head.”
“Well, stop it. It’s weird and uncomfortable, and who the hell says perhaps?”
“So? Have you?” Wind pushes.
I grunt. “She said she was busy, but do you honestly think I’d tell you?”
The answer is no, but I’m not telling him shit. It’s only been a few days since I sat with her on my porch, and she revealed things I assume aren’t for public consumption.
She told me that truth hurts, and sometimes it really does. These idiots are making me face a fear I’ve avoided long enough. It’s a risk to put myself out there. It’s the fear the nineteen-year-old me didn’t even consider—just a kid seeking love and comfort amidst heartache and pain. Instead, I watched every single thing slip through my fingers, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
But when Sarah told me she wanted to be brave and the kind of person who doesn’t give a shit what other people think, it made me realize I’ve been a coward—sealing myself off and making excuses, terrified to go after what I want. If I’m honest, it’s what I’ve always wanted.
“We saw that sweet moment on the porch. You puttin’ your arm around her,” Carson drawls. “Smooth move, man. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Listen, she was having a tough time. I did what any of you would have done if it were Krissy.” The difference is I didn’t want to let her go, and when her sad eyes stared up at me, a wave of need swooped through me with a power I’d not felt before.
I didn’t just want to hold her. I wanted to haul her to me and kiss her until she believed everything would be all right. I wanted her to know she doesn’t have to figure things out by herself and that I can help. That maybe we could be scared together.
I won’t be doing any such thing until I understand more. I want to know about this guy Roxie mentioned. The one I suspect is Ollie and Frankie’s father. More than that, I want to get to the bottom of why she doesn’t believe in herself and who is responsible.
“It’s all buttoned up.” Luke strolls over, saving me from this conversation.
“Have you ever changed an oxygen sensor?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
I nod in the direction of a Ford Escape. “Come on. I’ll get you started.”
Wind returns to the Dodge van with a coolant leak, but points at me. “I’ll be in touch, partner.”
“This isn’t AA.”
He laughs. “Sure isn’t, but we are in the business of recovering hearts.” He holds his hands in the shape of a heart over his chest.
“Who else has a broken heart?” Luke asks, glancing around the room through the mop of hair falling over his forehead.
The garage stills to the sounds of Trig guzzling his water. He burps. “I don’t.”
Carson snorts. “That’s cause you chase tail like it’s your day job. Someday that’s gonna catch up with you,” Carson says, pulling a wrench from his tool chest.
Trig tosses his bottle in the trash. “Nah, man. You’re just too much like Slade. So serious all the time. You don’t know how to let go and have fun.”
I hand Luke a wrench. “Lesson one: Don’t listen to these morons.”
“What’s lesson two?” His earnest, boyish face shines with eagerness.
My hand pauses in front of the firewall. I think of Cal and everything he taught me. He gave me a job and a place to bury the pain. Over time, he showed me what it means to be a man.
I look at him. “Figure out the kind of man you’re gonna be.”
“Then, what?”
“Shit, kid. This is a one-step-at-a-time program.”
“Hell yeah, it is!” Wind hollers.
