Page 36 of Always Mine

“Pity is not what you deserve.” I don’t mean to say it, but he keeps pissing me off. He knows damn well I don’t want to eat with him, don’t want anything from him, but he’s still pressing.

“I’m trying here, Wy.”

The words, the tone, the nickname… All of it is too much and my whole body flushes hot, ready to explode. Pulling over onto the shoulder, I barely have my truck parked and my seat belt off before I’m stumbling out onto the pavement.

We’re near the old burned-down barn at the edge of town and I begin walking to it, thankful someone cut the grass somewhat recently. It’s still high, up to my ankles, but at least it’s not to my waist anymore.

I pass the barn, not even sure where the hell I’m going, just trying to put some distance between me and the most infuriating human in the world. I mean, how fucking dare he use my nickname like he has the right?

I spot a fallen log not far ahead and I go to it, my dad’s words replaying in my mind. I rear back, giving it a kick. I don’t go too hard though because I don’t want to break my damn foot, but I need to get my frustration out. I kick it a few more times, and the old rotting wood gives way under my boot.

“Stupid damn log, ain’t worth shit. Stupid Paxton and his stupid damn face,” I grunt out, spitting whatever words come to my brain while kicking the log to mulch. Snatching off my backwards ball cap, I squeeze it in my hands, the need to throttle someone strong.

“Wyatt—”

I whirl around, spotting Paxton a few feet away, and I lose it.

“You!” I growl, advancing on him until our chests are touching. “Who the fuck do you think you are, huh? Coming back here and acting so fucking entitled.” I jab him in the chest, not giving a single fuck how sore he probably is from therapy. “You think you can just breeze in here and what? Get welcomed back with open arms? Not happening. It’s been three years. Three damn years without so much as afuck you, Wyattand yet, here you are, in my face, in myspacewanting to be friends? We aren’t friends. We aren’t anything, so stop trying.”

I take a step back because I feel like I’m close to coming undone. How can he get this kind of reaction out of me? I don’t understand, and I hate every second of it.

“Wyatt—”

“I can’t do this,” I cut him off, putting my hat back on and heading back to my truck. This is pointless. Talking to him, being near him.I want none of it.

“Damn it, will you just stop for a minute and talk to me?” He jogs to catch up, his long strides matching mine. “I messed up the other day when I was trying to talk to you, okay? I panicked and couldn’t say what I wanted to.”

“It doesn’t matter. We’ve said all we needed to say,” I mutter, suddenly exhausted with all of this.

“You might have, but I have plenty to say still.”

“Let it go, Paxton,” I growl, rounding the driver’s side and getting into the truck. Paxton beats me by a few seconds and reaches over to snatch the key from the ignition before I have a chance to start the engine. “I swear to God, if you don’t give me those keys right now—”

“Please just hear me out,” he cuts me off, eyes pleading as he holds the keys out of my reach.

I tear my gaze away, my bottom lip trembling at the raw emotions swarming between us. “Paxton, give me the key.”

My voice sounds destroyed, and I wish like hell he wasn’t witnessing it right now, or ever. Damn him for doing this to me.

“I’m sorry, okay? If I could go back in time and change it I would. I’d do anything to fix what I broke, but I know I can’t. I know it’s not that simple. It’s pointless, and you hate me, but I need you to know that it was the biggest mistake of my life. I’ve never regretted anything more than walking away from you.” His tone is so sincere and full of emotion, but I can’t do this. He can be sorry and he can regret it, but like he said, it doesn’t change anything between us.

“It d–doesn’t ma–matter,” I stutter, all the pain bubbling under the surface as I hold my shaking hand out. “Keys.”

“It does matter.” His voice cracks and his eyes are full of so much sadness. “I need you to know.”

Fuck, no. I can’t handle his emotions on top of mine right now. This is the kind of thing I was avoiding because I’ll cave every time if he’s hurting like I always have.

I shut my eyes hard, trying to keep in mind we aren’t those teens anymore. “And now I do, so please give me the keys.”

I can’t look at him, afraid of what I’ll see in his eyes, and even more afraid of what he’ll see in mine.

“Wyatt,” he tries again. “Please, just—”

“Paxton,” I whisper, letting my head drop forward to rest on the steering wheel. The truck is quiet, him finally shutting up long enough to let me catch my breath. I don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, I pull myself together and sit back up before flipping my cap around, a calmness settling over me when I look at him. Holding my hand out once more, I do my best to keep my voice level, hoping he’ll realize how serious I am. “Please, give me the keys.”

And this time he doesn’t fight me.

FOURTEEN

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