Page 85 of The Cabin

At this point, we’re like one step under screaming at each other. “I know you’ve been pining after her for years.” He slams his menu closed and lets it fall on the table, causing his bread plate to clank against his silverware. “What’s her fiancé’s name again? Hubert…?”

The name has to force itself through his gritted teeth. “Elmer…”

I can’t help it, I start hysterically laughing. “Oh my god! Imagine losing out to a guy namedElmer!” I lean back and grab my stomach, laughing so hard it hurts.

When I look back down, I can see Cruz biting his lip. And as soon as we make eye contact, we both burst into hysterics.

It takes a few minutes for us to actually settle down, because each time one of us gets close, we look at each other and start laughing all over again.

Nothing like brotherly love.

“I’ve missed you, you know? I smile. “Sorry I went offline for so long.”

“Nah. I should’ve been there for you. I just didn’t know how to handle how sad you were.”

My lips form the beginning of a frown, “Me either.”

“Plus, after Henley…I just kind of…lost it.”

“I know. I should’ve been there.”

“You were dealing with shit.”

I shrug. “So were you.”

I don’t know if it’s because I’m still drunk or because I literally have no other friends to talk to, but after we order, I tell him everything. Well, noteverything. He’s still my brother. Gross. But it’s pretty all encompassing. Starting with revealing the real reason I got a divorce and ending with the flinch.

“Why are you telling me all this?” he says in between forkfuls of his pasta.

“Uh, because I thought you’d give me advice or something!”

“I don’t know what the fuck you should do. You said it yourself, I’m just as emotionally unavailable as you are. I push people away too. I’m not afraid to put myself out there, but I am afraid of commitment.”

“Okay but I thought I was getting better. I was really trying. It felt like I was making progress! I was the one who had my head on straight in the beginning. Giving Grayson and I space when I sensed danger.”

“Turns out you’re the danger. You’ve been the danger all along.”

“Fuck, Cruz.” I mean, he’s right. Every single time I stormed off or stopped talking to Grayson it was over my own baggage. And it was never actually an issue. I thought he was cheating on his wife. He wasn’t. I thought he was cockblocking me and being an ass. He was. But in a hot way. In a protective way. I thought he was making fun of how desperate and single I am. He wasn’t. He was attracted to me. Or, at least, I was the only person available to be attracted to. I thought he was attacking me. He wasn’t. He was trying to communicate and hold me accountable. (I take constructive criticismreallywell.)

Besides being a protective, demanding douche (sweetheart) sometimes, he hasn’t done anything wrong to me. And we all know I don’t mind the demands one freaking bit. All he asked me to stop doing was masking what I want in favor of whatever everybody else wants.

He didn’t write me off when I stormed off the first time. Or the second. Or the third…

He actually took care of me in like, a million different ways. No matter how much I was yelling or ranting at him. My ankle, the dinner, the checklist, my car, the books, the food, the cabin. I mean, the list goes on and on. Not to mention how absolutely adored he’s made me feel. And so what if it’s temporary? That’s not a reason to lash out at him. He’s allowed to want temporary. And I dropped my clothes in that meadow knowing he is in the predicament he’s in.

My feelings are mine to face and I’m hurting a really great guy because I can’t express myself. I’m too fucking afraid to tell him where I stand. Because a sad, lonely part of me would rather cling to this situationship than tell him how I feel and risk him not wanting to lead me on and breaking it off early. Let’s just face it. We all know Grayson is the kind of gentleman that would break things off so that I don’t get the wrong idea and get myself hurt. Well, too late, buddy.

“Ugh. I fucked up, Cruz.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the club.” He raises his glass, pretending to clink it with mine and throws the rest back, draining it.

Not exactly a club I want to be a part of.

Chapter 23

Putzing around my hotel room, folding this, moving that, sitting down, standing up, walking to the mirror, walking to the window, I chew on my lip trying to figure out what the hell to do.

I am scared to show Grayson that I am not being intimate with him just because he wants to. I am scared because, statistically speaking, that can or will eventually lead to rejection. I know that he has communicated that this is what he wants and needs from me, but we’re up against a decade of shying away from stuff like this. It’s obvious I need to do something. I’m aware this is on me. I’ve just never allowed myself to be in this position.

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