Page 60 of Every Single Wildflower
But I don’t say that. I don’t end the bullshit right now and tell him that I’m in love with her.That she’s mine.I don’t tell him not to ask her. Because at the end of the day, that’s Ivy’s choice.
“Don’t know brother. Again. You’d have to ask her.” I knock back a drink. “How’s the station?” I ask, changing the topic to something not so fucking heavy.
“Good. I’m glad I did it. It sucks sometimes. Some calls are hard, but all in all I’m actually happy.” He bumps his shoulder with mine. “How’s your semen factory?”
A laugh barks from my chest. “Fuck off.”
“Is that what you do all day? Jack off bulls?” He laughs.
Shaking my head I glance over at him and it’s the first time I can remember that both of us are laughing. Together.
“It’s an art really.” I shrug.
“Damn.” He finishes off his beer. “I’m glad you’re doing something you love.”
I nod, feeling that heavy weight again.
“I think dad would be proud,” he says quietly.
“Yeah.”
“Maddox.” He pauses. “I’m…” he blows out a breath. “I’ve said some shitty things to you.”
I slap a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything, Brady. I understand.”
I can tell by the way his throat bobs he’s getting choked up. I’ve made it my mission to help him move on. To help him get through the grief. Even when he was cursing my name. I took it. When he would get drunk, break things, and make my mom cry from worry. I knew he needed someone to blame. And instead of telling him the truth about our father. I let him blame me.
Chapter forty-five
Ivy
I stretch my arms over my head, my eyes growing blurry as I blink at the Excel sheet on my computer screen. Maddox was still gone when I got back to the cabin, so I decided to do some actual work. Merit had been so accommodating, and I couldn’t let this cluster keep me from helping her. After all, it’s only us two in the shop.
The lock clicks across the room, and I glance at the clock, seeing it’s almost nine. Maddox enters, his hat coming off before he places it on the rack.
“Hey,” I say, sitting my laptop on the coffee table.
“Hey,” he responds as he walks across the room.
His eyes look tired, and he sighs deeply before stepping up behind me on the sofa. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head, holding it there for a few beats too long, causing my heart to slowly start to enter into the realm of panic. I don’t like how quiet he is, or how he walks silently over to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water.
“Everything ok?” I ask, standing up on my bare feet.
It could be old feelings. Old worries slithering up my throat, causing the air in my lungs to falter.
He regrets it.
He gulps the whole bottle down before he finally meets my eyes. “We should talk.”
Dread pools in my stomach and I swallow thickly. “Ok. About?”
“This.” He motions between us.
I nod, leaning back to rest against the counter, all the way across the kitchen. Space is good. If he tells me that it was a mistake again, I won’t have to smell his cologne.
He runs his thumb over his bottom lip before he speaks. “Have you forgiven him?”
I frown. “Forgiven who?”
