Page 75 of When We Were Us
It was you, Wren. You left.
His voice is quiet when he speaks next. “I don’t know what all of this means for you, Wren, and I won’t complicate things. I just— I would really like it if we could start over. No more kissing, no more ass-grabbing.” He chuckles. “The stuff with…” he pointedly looks at my chest and I can’t help but laugh.“Just start over.” He waits for a beat and the swallow he makes looks painful, at best. “Friends?”
Friends.
I swallow the lump in my throat and whisper, “I’d like that, too, Hank.”
I look down at our clasped hands and blink back the tears that have suddenly gathered in my eyes.
“I really should get back to it,” he says as he abruptly untangles our fingers. With a scrape ofthe barstool across hardwood, Hank is on his feet, carrying our plates to the sink.
I hardly register him talking through the blood rushing in my ears.
I don’t want to start over with Hank as friends.
I just wanthim.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
hank
The popand crackle of the fire does little to soothe the ache in my chest tonight. After we checked on Apollo, who got a ton of kisses and soothing words from Wren, I dropped her off at home. We didn’t speak as I’d driven her there. She’d given me a quiet, “Thanks for the ride,” and once she was out of the truck and safely inside, I’d gotten the hell out of there.
I went back to the ranch, hoping to catch up on emails and check in with Jack. But I couldn’t focus for shit. Every time I tried to, all I could see was the way she looked at me as she said the word.
Ex-fiancé.
Like just saying it was painful for her. Like talking to me about it was the last thing she wanted to be doing. Believe me, it was the last fucking thing I had wanted to hear. Well, maybe not the last.
If she had told me she was married, that would have crushed me. And not just because I am not a man who goes around screwing with married women. It wouldn’t matter that I had basically jumped her under false pretenses; I would never be able to live with myself if I had kissed her, touched her, and then found out she was married. But Wrenhad been a willing participant, and I should have known she wouldn’t do that if she were married.
I had practically yelled my relief when she told me she wasn’t. Either way, I wish I’d been able to get a read on how she felt about her breakup.
She definitely seemed pained by it, understandably. You don’t get engaged to someone unless you love them, and if you love them, the breakup is bound to be painful. Still, I didn’t know if her admitting to me she had been engaged was the painful part, or if it was the fact that her future withhimwas over.
Was she heartbroken? Relieved? Was it mutual? How long had it been? Had they just drifted apart? Had one of them cheated? Not Wren, obviously. I couldn’t see her cheating. She was one of the most loyal people I had ever known. The thought of some bastard cheating on her has my gut twisting.
We aren’t exactly on the same page anymore.
Her words come drifting back as I tip my glass to my lips, but the smoky-sweet flavor of the whiskey does nothing to erase the ache in my chest.
I didn’t want to push. If Wren wanted to tell me what happened between them, then she would in time, when she was ready. After all, that’s whatfriendsdo, right? Plus, I’d been too terrified of her answer. So, I’d shut the conversation down. Told her I wanted to start over.
As friends.
What the fuck had I been thinking when I’d said that?
The last thing I wanted to do was be friends with Wrenley. I wanted her in my life again. Permanently. And not as friends. Too much had already happened between us. The shit I wanted to do with her wasn’t even remotely friendly.
I close my eyes with a groan.
Here I was, half a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue down, while sitting in the dark behind mycabin. Just feeling sorry for myself, with nothing and no one but a fire, my dog, and the crickets to talk to.
For years, I’d told myself I didn’t have time for a relationship; I was a busy guy, I had better things to do. I mean, yes, there had been women. A couple. First was Dana. She and I only hooked up a handful of times when we were both in Billings for business. I met her through the community co-op two years after Wren left.
The longest was Trish. It’d lasted eighteen months, and she was a great friend. Funny, sweet. But we were just a convenience for one another. And it never went further than sex. I never pictured bringing her home to meet my family, and she’d never asked me to meet hers.
Though, Hudson has spoken to her once, by complete accident. He’d bugged me about her for weeks until she moved to Helena, and we’d broken things off. It was never more than anything to scratch an itch for both of us. Once I took over the ranch, that became my priority.
