Page 5 of I Can't Help It

Even if it’s just to forget about Ava and every interaction I’ve had with her.

I know that’s impossible, though, because I can still feel the warmth and sparks from when her fingertips touched mine today at work. I could go on hundreds of dates, and none of them would mean anything to me.

“Are you still worrying about that on-site visit?” Wyatt asks, folding up the paper sleeve from his straw. “Because you’re basically getting paid to take a vacation, bro. That’s not something to stress over.”

I let out a mild bitter laugh. “Considering I’ve never done a freaking on-site visit before—yeah, I’m still worried. I need to make a good impression, Wyatt. The pressure is real.”

“It’ll be fine,” he verbally waves me off. “How much could go wrong?”

So much. So much could go wrong.

The lodge I’ll be staying at could have a random invasion of termites. The local fall festival hosted there could be canceled because of a bizarre pumpkin shortage. The food could taste terrible. The Wi-Fi could go down!

Termites are obviously worse than no Wi-Fi, but still.

If any of those examples happen, or something else I haven’t thought of yet, Colton is going to second-guess hiring me. I already know it.

“Luke, don’t start thinking of every worst-case scenario.”

“Too late,” I huff, taking a sip of my water. “I’m blaming you if this trip turns into a disaster.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I got blamed for something that wasn’t my fault,” he states with a moody look. “Did you know that Trista still insists I’m the reason she has a fear of camping because of that one freaking time?”

Trista is best friends with Wyatt’s older sister, Maren.

And it IS his fault that she has a fear of camping, which I remind him of.

“You pretended to be a bear outside of their tent, dude.”

“I was ten and thought it was funny.” He offers a brief shrug. “I didn’t know it’d scare her that much. Who knew fifteen-year-old girls were so sensitive?”

“I told you not to do it,” I say with a frustrated sigh. “You never listened to me…”

Sometimes he still doesn’t.

Wyatt is the kind of guy that needs to do something before realizing it’s actually NOT a good idea. Like last month, when he did the most cliché thing ever and decided to get a tattoo while he was drunk. That’s how he ended up with “goodvobes” along the side of his ribcage because he was too plastered to even spell “vibes” right.

“She’ll get over it,” Wyatt drawls, taking another one of my fries. “Or maybe she won’t. It’s not a big deal, lots of people don’t like camping.” He rolls his eyes. “Anyway, enough about my sister’s uptight best friend—you’re really not going to talk to that girl? Snag some digits?”

The only “digits” I want are from Ava, and I don’t see that happening, sooooo hard pass.

“I’m good,” I say, shifting in my seat. “There’s no point if I’m not interested, Wy.”

And I am not interested.

“Touché…” he trails off before inhaling my fry. “We’ll just have to stay as two, incredibly good-looking bachelors.”

I nod in agreement, although I don’t want a life of bachelorhood, and it’s quiet between us for a few moments until Wyatt speaks again.

“Ya know,” he says, now ripping his straw sleeve into a billion little pieces, “I don’t think Ava has started dating either.”

My heart slams hard against my chest without any warning, and it feels like a freaking paddleball tournament is happening inside of me. The last time he mentioned Ava was two weeks ago, after he had found one of her earrings at his apartment.

It doesn’t happen often, but whenever he does talk about her, I find myself getting jealous. Which is ridiculous. I have as much right to be jealous as people have the right to take more than one free sample at the grocery store.

The guy sitting across from me is one of those kinds of people, by the way.

I try to be a good influence, but I can only do so much.

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