Page 41 of The Wreckage of Us

A sly smile found my lips. “You performed the new song for your band?”

“Yes. They all loved it. So I need you to help me.”

“Help you?”

He nodded. “I need you to help me create more music. Look, I know I’m an ass, and I’ve been an ass toward you from the jump, but hell ... I’ll do anything to have you help me with this emotions shit, because I don’t get it, and it seems that you do.”

My eyes narrowed as I crossed my arms. “And what do I get out of this deal?”

“I don’t know. You can rub it in my face and mock me for the rest of forever?”

“Well, that does sound satisfying, but I want one more thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“You help me in the pigpens. You take half of them to clean yourself.”

He groaned. “I’m more of an overseer of the pens. I haven’t cleaned them in years.” That was one of the perks of being a manager on Eres Ranch, I supposed. You handed out the jobs, but you didn’t have to get your hands too deep in the dirty work. But if Ian wanted my help, he’d have to come down to my level.

“Well, that’s my deal. I’ll help you with the lyrics if you help me with the pens. How bad do you want that dream of yours, Ian?”

I could tell from his stare how bad he wanted it.

Really freaking bad.

I held my hand out toward him and smiled. “Do we have a deal?”

There was a moment of pause until he walked over to me and shook my hand.

“Deal. Just promise me one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“No lady boners in the pens.”

If my face could turn any redder, I’d be a dang tomato.

“Trust me, we’ll be fine. But before we move on, can you say that one thing again?”

“What one thing?”

I pushed my tongue in my cheek. “That I was right.”

He rolled his eyes so hard that I was certain he was going to damage his vision. “Shut up, darling.”

Before I could reply to his comments, the doorbell rang, and Ian hurried over to answer it. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“Yeah, rumor has it Hazel Stone is crashing here,” a deep voice said, making me look up toward the front door.

Garrett stood there in all black, looking moody as ever. My stomach flipped as the two of us made eye contact. A fire blazed in his eyes, and within seconds, he barged into Ian’s place and gripped my arm. His embrace was tight. Too tight.

“What the hell, Garrett? Let me go,” I hissed, trying to pull my arm free, but he wouldn’t let it go.

“Heard the craziest rumor today,” he sneered, his voice coated in anger and alcohol. “It seems someone snitched on Charlie. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

My heartbeats sped up as I kept trying to rip my arm away from his hold, but I couldn’t. “No,” I lied, feeling my emotions building more and more with each second that passed.

My plan ... it worked. It really freaking worked.

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