Page 95 of Not Another Yesterday
I clear my throat to ease the rising tension. “Randi, this is my best friend Shane and his girlfriend Tori. Please be nice.”
“Jesus. City boys are something else.” Miranda doesn’t even try to hide the fact that she was eyeing Shane from head to toe.
Tori remains glued to Shane, the crease on her brow deepening.
Shane’s eyes are huge as they dart between me and Miranda, who is by far the shortest out of the four of us, and that’s saying something. Tori isn’t particularly tall, either. “Maybe I was wrong and Cat did have reason to worry about her,” Shane says with a quick nod at Randi.
“Wait, Cat was worried about me?” Miranda asks, her attention on me.
I frown. We’re wading into waters I have no desire to swim in right now. “Okay, can we not do this? Nobody needs to worry about anyone. Miranda is all talk, no action,” I say, mostly for Tori’s benefit. The very last thing I need is people not getting along from the get-go.
“No, but seriously? Like, she was jealous?” Miranda asks.
I growl at her. “Stop, Randi. We’re not getting into this now.”
Miranda turns toward me, her hands propped on her hips. “Here you go again shoving everything uncomfortable down, Rony. You know that’s a trauma response, right? And it’s one you really need to work on breaking.”
Shane grunts. “Yep. Fucking pro at dissociating.”
“Good god, you guys are killing me,” I groan. “Can we not do this? I’m done being everyone’s therapy project for today.” I face Tori. “You can stop holding on to Shane like a monkey. Randi isn’t gonna try andsnatch him away from you. She just appreciates the visual input your shredded guy provides, okay? But she isusually”—I throw Randi a sidelong glance—“respectful of established relationships.”
Miranda pats my cheek with puckered lips. “Aww, Rony, you sound agitated.” She turns to Tori. “He’s right, I will behave, though I can’t promise not to make comments. I’m like a dude in that regard—if I see a nice piece of meat, I gotta say something. It’s like… law. And your man’s… a nice piece of man meat. But I won’t touch. Promise.”
Tori exhales deeply, her lips quirking upward with the admiring glance she tosses Shane’s way. “Yeah, he is a nice piece of man meat.”
It’s shockingly smooth sailing after that. I keep waiting for more tension, but it never comes. Instead, Tori and Miranda completely hit it off, especially when Miranda nonchalantly hooks her arm under Tori’s and traipses into the barn with her to show off the three bottle calves Miranda is about to feed.
Shane and I look on, while Tori squeals with delight when Miranda hands over the giant calf nursing bottle. Tori dissolves into a puddle of coos while the mini cow gulps down its meal. And, Jesus, there’s even giggling as the girls stick their heads together.Tori laughing? With Miranda? Shit, okay, maybe this all can work?
***
I can feel Cat’s presence in the house. Her scent lingers in the air. Her energy is everywhere, like electricity under my skin. And I’m a damn bloodhound, trained to detect her in a crowd of people.
I knew it was inevitable, only a matter of time before I’d come face-to-face with the person who’s inhabited my heart from the second I laid eyes on her. I tried to brace for it, tried to emotionally prepare myself. But when I finally see Cat tonight, it hits me just as hard as it didthat fateful evening in May almost two years ago. I’m just as speechless. Just as overwhelmed.
If there’s one thing I’ve mastered in life, it’s avoiding sticky situations. I’m good at dodging people—especially in a place as sprawling as the ranch. I spent the whole day working out of the house, then filled the afternoon with Shane and Tori. Tori’s obsessed with ranch life and insisted on helping me muck out the stalls. And even though Shane grumbled about “cleaning up horse shit,” I could tell he kind of loved it. It’s not glamorous, sure, but it’s peaceful. And let’s be honest: Shane would do anything for Tori. Anything.
Eventually, though, I ran out of distractions. The sun started to set. My stomach growled. My watch told me it was time to wash up and get ready for dinner at Sterling’s.
There’ll be seventeen of us. My grandparents and Penny’s parents are staying behind with the “kids,” meaning my cousins—Riley, who just turned sixteen days ago, stomped off angrily when she was told she couldn’t join—Cat’s siblings, and the two newest additions to the Soult family tree. The rest of us are supposed to go celebrate my dad and Penny’s upcoming wedding.
Celebrate. That’s the last thing I feel like doing. I’m a jittery fucking wreck, sneaking from my room to the bathroom and back like I’m on some kind of covert mission or trying to evade a masked serial killer. But nope, I’m just too chickenshit to face Cat.
Of course, my grandma completely ignored my request not to meddle. Instead, she made sure Cat’s bedroom isrightacross the hall from mine—barely eight feet between us. I know it’s her way of trying to nudge us back together. As much as my grandma couldn’t stand my relationship with Miranda, she’s doubly invested in ensuring Cat and I find our way back to each other.
And honestly? The thought of walking into Cat’s room right now, of looking her in the eyes and telling her how badly I fucked up, it’s tempting as hell. I want to hear her voice. I want to touch her. I want tokissher. I want to be near her so badly it physically hurts.
But I don’t even know what I’d say.Hi? Or better yet, drop to my knees and beg her to take me back because I can’t do life without her? Easy enough in theory, except there’s a mountain of shit I need to unload on her. Dark, truly unhinged things she needs to know before I’ll let myself hope for a future with her. Just the idea of saying them out loud, of dropping my guard, of taking off that mask, makes me want to puke.
I get dressed in record time and am just about to pull on a fresh shirt when I hear Cat’s door open. Apparently, my dumb ass decided to tempt fate without even realizing it because I left my bedroom door wide open. Subconsciously, maybe I wanted this. To be fair, it’s been a long time since anyone else has stayed in this part of the house. Other than my mother, who actually slept in the bedroom Cat is occupying right now, no girl’s slept up here in years.Miranda sneaking into my bedroom at night doesn’t count.
Instinctively, I turn. And just like that—like that one unforgettable night at the beach house—our eyes meet. Except, it’s painful now. Because I know her. I know the sound of her laugh, the sigh she makes when she finally gets that bite of food she’s been craving. I know what she looks like when she sleeps. I know her, but I’m not with her when I should be.
She’s so beautiful.God, that hair, those eyes, that mouth.
She stands there, thunderstruck, blinking at me. Her hazel eyes are wide, filled with something I can’t quite name. Pain? Longing?
“Hey,” she says softly.
