Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
“Right. Guess there are worse reasons to get married.”
“But there are definitely better ones. They weren’t always miserable together, but I’m not sure they were ever super happy either.”
I nod. “I absolutely agree. I don’t think the point of marriage—or life, really—is to have kids.”
“Yeah?” She finally looks at me. “What do you think the point is, then? I’m genuinely curious, because I’m trying to find that out myself.”
Lifting a shoulder, I put on my blinker. “Experiencing the world. Traveling. Figuring out who you are. Lending a helping hand when you can.”
“I like those ideas. A lot.” She looks down at her lap. “Anyway, the divorce was a bomb I was expecting—”
“But it’s still a bomb.”
“Exactly. I can function okay. Like, work is the thing that’s keeping me sane right now. But I’m, like, actually not okay?” Her voice gets high, and I know she’s about to cry. “It’s hard watching the life you’ve known explode around you.”
How do I know you so well after a single weekend?
How’d we go from fucking in the front seat to talking about serious shit?
There’s a vulnerability to Wheeler, a willingness to be real, that has me spinning out. It’s so rare to be able to talk about real shit with someone this way. Makes me feel alive.
It’s devastating to think this might be the last real conversation I have with this girl.
“I think it’d be weird if you were okay.” I change lanes, then turn my head to look at Wheeler. “Wish you’d said something, Blue. We can’t be there for you if you’re not telling us what’s going on.”
“We?”
“Me. My brothers. Everyone you live and work with on the ranch.”
Her face crumples, and so does my heart.
“You’re sweet.” She wipes away her tears with the flat of her hand. “But we’re not that close—”
“Blue, I just spent the weekend inside you. We’re close, whether you like it or not.”
That makes her laugh. “People aren’t like that where I’m from. Don’t get me wrong, I have friends back home, but they…yeah, don’t care the way y’all do.”
“So let us take care of you. Let me take care of you.”
She shakes her head, holding her hand to her face. “I need to focus on…other things right now. I’m a mess, Duke. You don’t want to deal with this bullshit.”
“But I do.” I swallow, hard, my chest tight. “You gotta let me decide what I’m up for, yeah?”
But she’s still shaking her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t accept that.”
“You have to, Duke.” Her eyes are on me again. “Trust me when I say you want no part of this mess.”
My heart screams with the desire to keep pushing her. There’s plenty of holes in her argument. I see what she’s doing—the way she’s pushing me away before I can push her away.
Wonder why she automatically assumes that’s what will happen?
But it’s obvious Wheeler is in a bad place. I have to respect what she wants, even though I think it’s a fucking tragedy to give up on the chemistry we share.
Who knows? Maybe she just needs some time to heal. Maybe she’ll eventually come around to the idea of being with me. I’ll just keep in touch with her in the meantime—a text here or there, a call just to catch up.
Or maybe I’m being a huge fucking idiot, and I need to take her refusal seriously. I believe her when she says she’s beat up over her parents’ divorce. Could be that she’s not telling me something else, though. She could have her sights set on another guy.
Christ, do I hate the idea of her holding a torch for some finance bro dickhead in Dallas.
I don’t realize I’m holding the wheel in a death grip until my fingers start to throb.
“Got it.” I try to keep my voice even. Calm. “I’m sorry you’re going through all that, and I’m sorry you don’t feel the way I do. But I understand.”
She sniffles. “Thank you. I’m sorry too, Duke.”
CHAPTER 13
Nicknames with New Meanings
Wheeler
“Well, isn’t that exciting.”
Judging by Mom’s tone, the fact that we just sold out of the first drop of our summer collection in seven minutes isn’t very exciting at all.
A rush of saliva fills my mouth. I put a hand on my middle, wondering why the hell I feel like I’m going to vomit all of a sudden.
Ah yes, it’s because talking to either of my parents right now literally makes me sick to my stomach. How could I forget?
“Thanks. Mollie and I are really proud.”
“Y’all should be. I know you’ve worked hard.” A pause. “Maybe a little too hard. I still think you going to an office every day would provide more structure. Give you some boundaries, you know? Because it sounds like you’re working morning, noon, and night.”
Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest, but I immediately wince. Wow, my boobs are sore. I wish my period would come already so I could stop PMS-ing. I’ve felt pretty awful the past couple days.