Page 43 of When Wrecked Meets Ruined
“To shovel horse shit.”
“Get back here and clean up after yourself.”
I ignored him and kept right on walking.
I didn’t blame Brody for assuming I’d fuck up. A D1 school like San Marcos wouldn’t give two shits about my ‘potential’ or ‘raw talent’ or my high school achievements on the field. If I caused any trouble, they’d kick my ass off the team, and I’d lose my scholarship. Unfortunately,troublewas my middle name.
Contrary to popular opinion, I didnotgo out of my way to look for it, but it sure as hell always managed to find me.
* * *
Fucking Texas heat.
I wiped my face on my T-shirt, tossed it aside with my work gloves, and guzzled the energy drink Noah had dropped off earlier. He knew how to treat a guy right.
Being hungover and sweating my balls off while I was up to my elbows in horse shit was not a fun way to spend a Sunday. But that was the price I had to pay for… well, being me, I guess.
Leaning against the fence, I checked my messages. Not sure why I thought there would be one from Evie. What had I expected? An apology? An explanation? Last night after she’d hung up on me, I called back three times. No answer. And that was after I’d confided in her about something I didn’t share with anyone. Yet a-fucking-gain.
When would I ever learn?
I read a text from Walker, asking if I wanted to go to the swimming hole later.
The next text from him sealed the deal.Quinn and Evie will be there.
Evie and I had unfinished business.
“Hey, Ridge.”
I pocketed my phone and looked over at Brody. “Yeah?”
“I believe in you.”
I almost laughed at the pained expression on his face. “Did Shiloh tell you to say that?”
He shrugged one shoulder and squinted at the rolling green hills past the paddock. I’d take his lack of response as a yes. “I just want good things for you.”
I knew that, and I knew he only pushed me to be better because he cared. So, I nodded to let him know I’d heard him.
“You planning on making an appearance at the family dinner?” he asked.
It was a Sunday tradition that all the McCallisters gathered for dinner at my aunt Kate and uncle Patrick’s house. Nine times out of ten, Patrick said something to piss me off. We still hadn’t mended our rift after he accused me of stealing from him last summer when I worked for his construction company. The money had gone missing, and he’d immediately pointed the finger at me. Guilty until proven innocent.
“Nah. I’ve got plans.”
“You’ll have to make an appearance sometime.”
“I’ll clear my schedule for Thanksgiving.”
He sighed. “If this is about Patrick, he’s Team Ridge this summer. Jesse’s on his shit list now.”
I bet Patrick had smoke coming out of his ears when Jesse announced his retirement from motocross a few weeks ago. “Let me guess, ‘I didn’t raise quitters,’” I mimicked Patrick’s gruff voice.
Brody chuckled. “Pretty much. So find a way to fit it into yourbusyschedule. And no more parties on my property, you hear me?”
“Yeah, I hear you.”
“If you fuck up again, I’m moving you back into the house.”
