Page 39 of The 7 Rules of Moving On
Before Kissie could press her further, Dawn drifted off to sleep.
TRIG
He’d made a mistake, a huge one. How had he thought for one single second he could have crossed that line with Kissie, touched her body, tasted her, and not have ended up here? Heartsick and whiny and spilling his guts to Ryan while Kissie was checking in on Dawn.
“What are you gonna do?” Ryan asked, picking at the label on his beer. “I haven’t seen you this into a woman in…” He scratched his chin stubble. “Shit, ever, honestly.”
Trig cracked his neck, mostly to feel the sharp, distracting pain. “There’s nothing I can do. She’s leaving tomorrow.”
“Yeah?” Ryan said, his tone leading.
“Yeah, what? She’s leaving. She’ll be in Missoula. I’ll be here. End of story.”
“It’s not like Missoula is Egypt or something. It’s only three hours away.”
“Three and a half,” Trig corrected.
“Whatever. I’m only saying that if you wanted it to work, it could.”
It wasn’t like he hadn’t considered this. In fact, he’d spent a sizable portion of last night while being the big spoon considering how to broach the subject of a relationship of some kind, of any kind, with her. Only to come to the same conclusion over and over: she was here to move on from a relationship, not start a new one. “It can’t.”
Ryan raised a brow. “Certainly not with that attitude, mister.”
“I’m not like you, Ryan. I can’t put myself out there the way you do. The way you close your eyes and jump in with both feet with everyone you meet.”
“I don’t do that,” he said, offended.
“Yes, you do. How many partners have you had in the last three years?”
Squinting up at the ceiling, counting to himself, Ryan eventually shrugged and gave up. “A lot. I’ve had a lot of partners.”
“Right. And I’ve had one. Well, two, if you count whatever’s going on with Kissie. I don’t do this. I don’t hook up. I’m—”
“Picky? Boring?”
“—careful,” Trig said, snapping his bar towel at Ryan’s shoulder. “The whole thing with Tina and Lane fucked me up. I’m not sure I could handle a long-distance relationship even if I thought Kissie was interested in one.”
“You could always move.”
“What?” Trig’s brows crashed together.
“Don’t have kittens,” Ryan said, his hands raised. “Look, I know you love Twin Hearts, but you might love somewhere else too. Sometimes it’s not where but who you’re with that really matters.”
Trig blinked. “Did you just quote Dave Matthews to me?” He pointed to the door. “Get out. Get out of my bar.”
“Dave’s not wrong,” Ryan said, ducking to avoid the pretzel hurled at his face. “You aren’t anchored here. You don’t have a wife, a family. Your parents don’t even live here anymore. You could leave. It is possible.”
“No.” Trig shook his head, dogged. If he knew anything, it was that he belonged in Twin Hearts. The same way stars belonged in the sky or dirt belonged on the ground. He didn’t even know who he was if he wasn’t Andrew Trig from Twin Hearts, MT. He was devoted to this town, committed to Mystic. That mattered. It had to matter. “I’m not leaving. I’m never leaving.”
“Never leaving what?”
Trig looked up in time to see Kissie hang her coat on one of the hooks near the door, revealing a black and white polka-dotted cocktail dress that might have been the sweetest thing he’d ever seen.
Long hours had passed since she’d left his room, and now his entire body seemed to uncoil, his muscles loose and lungs breathing more easily simply because he was near her again.
Not where but who you’re with…
“If fucking Dave Matthews is right, so help me,” he mumbled under his breath.
