Tangle

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Tangle Page 22

by Locke, Adriana


  That I didn’t want to break her heart, but if I didn’t, I’d obliterate it because I’d already checked out.

  Fear paralyzes me as reality crystallizes in my mind. The little games I’ve been telling myself—thinking I could figure it out, see her a couple of times a month, that she isn’t like other girls, who expect the impossible—end in a checkmate.

  I lose.

  Because even if she did buy that line of bullshit, she deserves more. She deserves to get what she wants out of life, just like I do. And if I pull some wool over her eyes to keep her for myself when I’m not sure I can return the favor, that makes me the worst.

  I’m already pretty fucking bad for keeping it going this long.

  The door opens again and I hear steps on the porch. I peer around the corner to see Haley looking toward the barn.

  “Hey,” I say, walking toward her. “I was looking for you.”

  It’s a lie and she knows it.

  Maybe Penn’s words put her on guard, but there’s a shield between the two of us that slices me to the core. That’s not how it’s supposed to be with us. It feels so wrong.

  It is so wrong.

  But isn’t this whole thing so wrong?

  “Where have you been?” she asks.

  “I went down to the pond with Dane, then came back out to look for you. Must’ve missed you inside,” I say.

  She nods. “Mia’s friends will be showing up soon . . .”

  Here it is, the opening to have the conversation that will make me feel like the biggest asshole in the universe. She wants it now. I don’t blame her. Getting it over with is preferable to milking it over the evening.

  But if I yank the bandage off now, I’ll have to go. And if I have to go, there’s a ninety-nine percent chance I might not ever see her again.

  I swallow back a layer of bile.

  “Do you, um, want to go for a walk?” I ask.

  “No. I want to talk right here.”

  “Okay.” I force a swallow. “I’m heading back to Nashville in the morning.”

  She nods, her jaw tense.

  “I mean, I have to work.”

  She waits for the rest of it. The bomb to drop. The part where I kill both of our dreams with a couple of quick, pussy-mumbled lines before running to my truck and getting the hell out of here.

  But as I look at her, the woman who has captured my attention unlike any other, I can’t do it. I can’t walk away from her. I can’t lose her—not entirely.

  Thinking I’ll never hear her laugh again or have someone call me “Thief,” to wrap my brain around the idea of never waking up next to her again, makes me physically ill.

  How can someone you just met a few weeks ago already mean more to you than some people you’ve known your whole life? And why does that have to happen?

  “I want you to be honest with me,” she says.

  “I’m always honest with you.”

  She swallows. “Do you plan on seeing me again?”

  “Yes. Of course. I’ll come here or you can come to my house.”

  Her shoulders sag in relief. “Okay.”

  “Okay.” I head toward her, needing to touch her—needing reassurance that she’s real and I’m real and this is happening.

  Before I get there, she holds out a hand.

  “I . . . I need to know,” she says. “What am I to you?”

  “What does that mean?”

  I force a swallow down the narrow tube of my throat. My heart pounds in my chest, the vein in my neck throbbing as I shift under her pointed gaze.

  “It means just what I’m asking,” she says.

  I stop in my tracks. “We don’t have to put a label on it, Haley.”

  She runs a hand down her face. “No. We don’t. You don’t have to call me your girlfriend or say we’re dating. But I need to know what I mean to you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She drops her hand. There’s a chill to her eyes as she takes me in. “I’m going to be honest with you, Trevor.”

  She pauses as she searches for words. Every second she doesn’t speak feels like a lifetime as I try to come to terms with the words I think she’s going to say.

  I will her not to. I silently plead with her to not go where I think she’s going, to just let this thing be whatever it is.

  I can’t do this. I can’t ruin her like she’s going to make me do.

  “Haley—”

  “I’m falling in love with you.”

  She blurts the words before I can object. My blood turns to ice.

  “No, Haley.”

  She blinks back tears. “I know I signed the napkin,” she says, laughing as she chokes back a sob. “And I know I promised you that I understand you just needed me to help you fill a spot of time in your life—”

  “Haley, stop. That’s not true.”

  My heart twists in my chest so hard I think it might stop beating. I want to hold her, caress her, kiss away all her tears, but I can’t do that. It’ll only make it worse.

  “It’s not?” she asks. “I know you like me. I see it in your eyes and feel it in the way you touch me. But if you won’t admit that, I need to know.”

  “I do like you, Haley. So much. But . . . you don’t love me.”

  “How do you know?” Tears drip down her cheeks as she watches me try to keep it together. “How do you know what my love feels like when you won’t accept it? Heck, you won’t even entertain the idea of it?”

  She’s right. I won’t. Even if I did, I’m not sure it would change anything.

  A girl like her doesn’t love a guy like me. Not really. She just thinks she does because she’s a glutton for punishment.

  “You fall in love when you’re ready,” I say. “Not when you’re lonely.”

  “You think that’s it? You think I think I’m in love with you because I don’t want to be alone?” Her brows lift as she processes this. “How dare you say that to me?”

  “It’s true. You are so much better than me,” I tell her, fighting back a lump in my throat. “You have this huge heart, this dry wit that makes me insane, and a laugh that I’ll always remember. I can’t give you that.”

  “You won’t try.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not there. Maybe someday I’ll figure it out. Maybe someday I’ll be like my dad and fall madly in love. But right now, I’m not there.”

  “You let me fall for you.”

  Guilt settles in my soul. It burrows nice and deep, rooting its way into my psyche.

  I think back on the moments I didn’t leave her alone. The night we made out like high school kids. The day I couldn’t help myself and not visit her at the flower shop. They were choices I made well after we broke our contract, and I kept pressing. I couldn’t help it. Because I’m a fucking moron.

  “You know how you say you fall for the wrong guy?” I ask.

  She nods.

  “We fall for the people we think we deserve. You need to figure out what it is about you that makes you think you need someone like me.”

  Her eyes go wide, the wind knocked out of her. “Fuck you.” She shuffles her feet. “You want a little truth, Trevor?”

  I don’t, but I nod, anyway.

  “You know how you say women cling to you and won’t go away?” she asks.

  I nod again.

  “It’s you that does that to them. You break them down until they think it’s safe, and then you say you’ve had enough and watch them wallow. I think you get a kick out of that.”

  “Are you serious?”

  I watch an anger settle over her features that has my name written all over it. I can’t blame her, but I want to. It’d be a hell of a lot easier thinking this was her fault than knowing it’s mine.

  “I am.” She throws her shoulders back. Black lines streak down her pretty face as she sets her jaw in place. “Goodbye.”

  “Haley, wait.” I take one measured step her way, but the look she gives me stops me in my tracks. “Let’s talk.�


  “We’ve talked.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not mad at you. I don’t blame you for this. But I want you to think about how to not do this to someone else.”

  “I—”

  “You warned me. I know,” she says, cutting me off. “You told me what to expect and didn’t make any promises. But that doesn’t make this okay. I asked you not to touch me, to woo me, to say things that made me think I was beautiful to you. You overstepped that boundary, even when I asked it for my heart’s sake. So no. There are no more words, Trevor. You’ve made your choice. So leave.” She grabs the door handle. “And a word to the wise. Get out of here before Dane comes out.”

  “Haley . . .”

  She disappears inside the house, and it’s like she took the light with her. It’s like standing in darkness, but it has to be this way. There’s no other choice. If I give in to my hedonistic tendencies again and go after her, it’ll only make it worse in the end. And there will be an end. There always is.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  HALEY

  Don’t go out there.” I march inside, vision blurry, and head straight to the refrigerator. “Dane. Penn. Stop.”

  “What did he do?” Dane’s voice is colder than I’ve ever heard it. “I won’t ask again, Hay.”

  “Good. Don’t.” I take a half-drunk bottle of wine from the fridge and pour a glassful. I cringe as the alcohol burns my throat and settles into my already acidic stomach. “That’s over.”

  Penn turns to face the wall with his phone in his hand.

  “Hey. Mia wants ice cream . . .” Neely stops as she rounds the corner and takes in the scene before her. “What happened out here?”

  “It seems as though Trevor and I are no longer a thing. Well, we probably never were and now he’ll expect me to beg for attention like Liz, but if he thinks that, he doesn’t know me well.” I take another long drink.

  Neely comes up to my side and pulls me into a hug. The adrenaline starts to wear off. I’m suddenly tired, so tired, and I sag against Neely.

  “I lost the bet, Dane.” The tears start again. “Guess you get to pick my next three dates.”

  Penn turns to face me. I expect him to make a comment about getting one of the three slots, but he doesn’t. He just looks at me with a frown on his face.

  “Oh, come on,” I poke. “You don’t even want to date me now?”

  “I’d be the luckiest son of a bitch on earth,” Penn says quietly. “But no. Because you deserve better than a guy like me or that rich fucker that’s fixin’ to get his teeth knocked in.”

  “Don’t you dare.” I stand straight, my stomach sloshing with wine. “He has the right to do whatever he wants.”

  “Sure, he does. So do I,” Penn says. “He made you cry. I’ll kill him.”

  “I’ve cried before. Odds are, I’ll cry again.” I pace around the kitchen, well aware I look like a crazy person. “Why do I do this to myself?”

  Dane pats my shoulder. “We’ve had this discussion. The bet, remember? But this one isn’t on you.”

  “Yes, it is. He didn’t lie to me. Maybe he reeled me in, but I took the bait. I took it happily. Three times in Nashville,” I say over my shoulder to Neely. “I took it and ran with it happily.”

  A flash of anger burns through Dane’s eyes before he looks at Neely. “Did you say Mia wanted ice cream?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I can go,” Penn volunteers.

  “Nope,” Dane says, grabbing his keys off the counter. “I need some fresh air. Thanks, though.”

  “Fresh air better not include getting in Trevor’s face, Dane. Please. It’s not worth it,” I plead.

  He ignores me and leaves without saying goodbye.

  My thighs ache from the adrenaline burn. I climb onto a stool. Everything inside me drops into the seat. I feel like I weigh an extra hundred pounds.

  Penn comes over and wraps his arms around me. “Haley, I’m sorry,” he says.

  “Not your fault.”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel bad for you.” He flinches. “Am I developing feelings? What if I get a conscience? This could be bad, guys.” He gasps, letting me go. “I could turn into Matt.”

  I laugh, the act releasing a little of the sadness in my heart. “That wouldn’t be the end of the world.”

  “For you. It would be terrible for me.”

  Neely refills my wineglass and hands it to me. “I’m sorry this hurts so much.”

  “Well, if nothing else, I learned a few things.” I sniffle.

  “Like what?”

  “Like how to get off in the missionary position. How to handle myself when I’m jealous. How to stand up for myself when I want something, and what it feels like to fall in love.” I bring the glass to my lips but don’t drink. The burn of unshed tears fills my throat instead. “What it feels like to be rejected.”

  “Fuck him,” Penn says.

  “I thought you liked him?” Neely asks.

  He rolls his shoulders in a small circle. “I did. Now I don’t.”

  “Penn, this is my fault,” I say. “He didn’t lie to me. He didn’t promise me anything he didn’t follow through on. I just went all in like I do, and he didn’t.”

  A knock at the front door makes me jump. I hold my breath, hoping, even though I shouldn’t, that it’s Trevor. Penn waves Neely off and marches to the front door. His fist is clenched to his side as he pulls it open.

  Claire bursts in. “Where are you? Oh, friend.” She rushes to me, throwing her arms around me. “I’m so sorry.”

  “How did you even know?” I ask.

  “Penn texted me to get over here. He didn’t say why, but he didn’t have to. Trevor leaving was the only thing I could think would hurt you bad enough for Penn to bother with texting me.” She looks at him over the top of my head. “Thanks, Penn.”

  He looks at Claire, Neely, and me one at a time. “I’m losing it. Something is wrong with me, and I don’t know how to fix it. It’s like I’m growing a heart.” He sticks his lip out and wobbles it. “I don’t want it. Take it back.”

  We laugh, watching Penn act like he’s in shock.

  “Let me say,” Claire says, sitting beside me, “that I hate this. But as I was driving over here, I realized I’m not really worried about you.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “I’m not. I have been every other time you’ve had a breakup, but not this one. You’ll be fine this time, strangely enough.”

  “Yeah, Claire’s right,” Neely chimes in. “I get what she means. You’re taking this super well.”

  I don’t know about that.

  There’s a black hole in my heart. I can feel the hollowness. It’s deep, gaping, maybe even seeping. It hurts like a bitch, but I’m aware of one thing—nothing is going to fix it. Not now. Not yet. Not until I can at least wrap my head around what’s happened.

  “My friend Grace is coming from New York soon,” Neely says. “Maybe we can all go somewhere, not Nashville, and have a girls’ trip.”

  “I’d love that,” I say.

  “Wait,” Penn says, cutting in. “Grace. Is she the one you were telling me about? Hot little body. Dirty mouth.”

  “That’s Grace.”

  “When does she come in?” he asks with a grin.

  Neely rolls her eyes. “I’m not sure. Soon. But you should probably stay away from her.”

  “Why?”

  Neely laughs. “I can’t figure out if you’d be oil and water or get along like a house on fire.”

  “Neely, pal,” Penn says, heading for the door, “you just guaranteed I’ll be looking her up.”

  “Where are you going?” Claire asks.

  “I’m going to make sure Dane found the ice cream, because I’m pretty sure Lorene doesn’t sell it at the Dogwood Inn.” He shrugs. “Later, babes.”

  Claire sits beside me and swipes my wine. “I want to see your house and be super excited for you, Neely. But I need a drink first.


  The room grows quiet for everyone but me. I hear Trevor’s voice roll through my mind, telling me I’m staring. Calling me a pretty girl. Asking me what I’m thinking.

  Liz was wrong. He might’ve looked at me differently, but not like she thought. Or I hoped.

  There’ll be no more staring, Thief. Not anymore.

  Trevor

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Lorene looks up as I walk by.

  I sit across from her in one of the oversize chairs by the fireplace. She continues knitting, working the yarn through sticks that remind me of something Godzilla would’ve used to eat Chinese food. They clink together, the sound oddly comforting.

  My emotions are spent.

  This is why I don’t do this. Exactly fucking why. I can’t win. I never win.

  “If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to,” she says, reaching over and patting my hand. “But I’ve lived almost ninety-one years. I know a little something about a lot of things. Unless it’s computers. I don’t know a thing about them.”

  I settle in and watch her work for a while. It’s almost hypnotic and I appreciate the distraction. Finally, I face reality. “Were you married?”

  “Yes. For fifty years. Geoff was a good man. A very good man. I miss him every day of my life.” She smiles. “He left me twenty-six months before he passed, you know.”

  “He left you?”

  She nods. “He divorced me. The fool was seventy years old and filed papers to end our marriage.” She chuckles to herself. “I told him if he wanted to leave, he could. Fine by me.”

  I lean forward, my elbows on my knees. “I’m confused.”

  She laughs. “Oh, honey. There’s nothing to be confused about. We got married when we were twenty at the courthouse. My daddy didn’t like him, so he wouldn’t come. But Mama did, and his parents, and we said our vows in front of the good Lord. We didn’t have fancy weddings back then like they do now. But it wasn’t about that back then. It was just about finding the person to hold on to when the storms got bad because, back then, they got bad in a hurry.”

  Her needles fly against each other, picking up speed.

  “We battled through a war, three kids, hard times and easy ones. He was the great love of my life, and I’ll never say a bad word about him.” She looks up at me with a half smile. “Except he’s a dumbass for divorcing me.” She drops her needles. “At seventy years old. Who does that?”

 

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