Unrequited love isn’t really true, I guess. Peck told me he’d love Molly forever, but after our talk the other night, I know he’s reassessing how he loves her and what that love means. But it doesn’t necessarily mean he’s emotionally available for me. I mean, Peck’s a virile man, and I’m sure he’s slept with many women over the years.
And they’ve never amounted to anything.
Gah! Brain, stop thinking.
Navie comes back with a glass of tea, handing it to me and then sitting on the couch.
“If it’s what he wanted—to try to see what was between us, if anything, and it could stay so easy breezy, I could go for it. But if it’s going to get all complicated and I have to jockey for a position with Molly, I … I don’t wanna do that, Navie.”
“I get it.”
“But I also don’t want to sleep with a guy who I could be good friends with otherwise and screw it all up because of the actual screwing.” I blow out a breath. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Navie leans forward, putting her hands on my knees. She looks me right in the eye. “Yes, you should’ve. Because you have to learn to trust yourself. Something in your brain told you it was okay to let your guard down, and you have to trust that voice.”
“But that voice has led me astray before.”
She grins. “Even inner voices have bad days.” She sits back again. “You need to calm down and stop thinking about all the bad things that might happen and focus on all the good that’s possible.”
“Like …?”
“Lots of orgasms, from the sound of it.”
I laugh. “Girl …”
She laughs too. “See? And what if this whole thing turns out to be something good. Then what? Then you’ll kick yourself for doubting it in the first place.”
I take a sip of the tea and try to do as instructed. I try to relax.
My body is still buzzing from last night. My muscles ache, and some feel stretched. It’s a lovely feeling and would be even better if I could kick this mental silliness.
“Let’s think proactively,” Navie suggests. “What can you do to make yourself feel better about this? Besides talking to him, which I’m assuming you’ll do when you go home.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Okay. Good. Now let’s develop the rest of the plan.”
I rest my head on the chair and ponder my situation. If I boil it all down, the part that bothers me the most is being stuck there in a situation I don’t want to be in. If I didn’t live with him, I’d be more open into seeing where things could possibly go between us.
“I need to have another housing option in my pocket,” I say. “Speaking of which …” I set my tea down on the end table and slip my phone from my pocket.
“What are you doing?” Navie asks.
“Hang on.”
I open my text app and then scroll through my contacts until I find Joanie’s name.
Me: Hi, Joanie. It’s Dylan Snow. I was wondering if you found the information for the house we were discussing. I’m still very interested in it.
I look up to see Navie’s watching me.
“What?” I ask.
“What are you doing?” she repeats.
“Just seeing if Joanie, my boss at the bank, found any information on the house she knew about for rent.”
Navie’s lips twist. “I can’t argue your logic there. Maybe it would be better if you weren’t staying with him. I can see how that would muck stuff up.”
My stomach settles, and a calmness sweeps over me. It’s from the tea or the text or from discussing things with Navie. I don’t know which, but I do know I’m grateful to feel it.
“Okay. Now lunch?” I ask. “I really want to try the coffee cake at Carlson’s.”
“It’s the best. You should just buy the whole cake and eat the rest for breakfast. That’s what I do,” she says with a shrug. She glances at her watch. “Or we could grab something real quick and still make the movie.”
I nod.
Even though our decision is made, neither of us moves. I just sit and revel in the knowledge that I have Navie so close to me again. It feels so good to have someone in your corner.
The moment is broken when my phone buzzes in my head. I look down.
Mom: I called you a couple of days ago. Koty needs to borrow some money for Gia’s birthday party. She’ll be eight, if you didn’t remember. Could you send a check? A couple of hundred should be enough, I’d say. I told her you would.
I roll my eyes and turn my phone off. “Are you ready?”
“Yup. Let’s go.”
Twenty-Three
Dylan
The television is on. A sitcom I’ve never seen before plays out in front of me. It’s not really that interesting, and I don’t get the humor, but it’s enough of a distraction to warrant leaving on.
The movie Navie and I saw was great. The buttery, salty popcorn was even better. But now I’m home again. Alone.
I glance at my phone, but there’s no text from Peck. No missed call. No anything. I don’t know what to make of that. And even though Navie had my nerves mostly chilled out by the time I dropped her off at her apartment with a tub of leftover popcorn and a loaf of coffee cake, I’ve lost the chill. Now, I’m anxious.
What does his non-reply mean? Does he regret being with me? Does he regret the fact that I’m here?
I have no idea, and I wish I did.
Picking my phone off the coffee table, I re-read Joanie’s text. The information about the rental is in front of me. The name of the landlord, the fair asking price, the fact that it’s available now—all of it is right there, waiting on my move.
But I don’t know what move to make.
I want to stay here, but I know I should go. It’s a tough call to make when I have no help in making it.
The door opens and shuts. Peck’s footsteps scoff against the floor. I hold my breath as I watch his shadow stretch across the doorway. Then, finally, after what feels like an eternity, his handsome face comes around the corner.
He stutter-steps as he walks by. His hand grabs the doorframe, and he stops.
A mix of emotions crosses his face as he looks at me sitting on the couch. I fidget, unsure of what to say.
“Heya, Dylan,” he says. Slowly, his face breaks into a smile.
Relief courses through my veins as he enters the room.
“How was your day?” I ask. Glancing at the clock, I see that it’s nearly dinner time.
He walks straight over to me with a dose of hesitation in his eyes. Leaning down, he holds my face in his hands and presses a kiss to my lips.
It takes me by surprise.
“Oh,” I say when he pulls back. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
His posture relaxes as he settles himself into an oversized leather chair.
In dark jeans and a blue button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, he looks delicious. But his eyes still don’t quite share the same casual vibe as his dress.
“I’m sorry about today.” He clears his throat. “I missed church, which pissed Nana off. But I got up and got to her house before lunch.”
“That’s good.”
He nods. His chest rises as he sucks in a deep breath. “I’ll be honest here—I didn’t know whether to wake you up today or not. I just … my whole family was there, and they’re a lot to deal with and—”
“Peck. It’s fine.”
He lights up. “Really? Because I really thought I’d probably fucked up. And the longer I went and didn’t call you or text you, the worse I figured it was. But I just … I didn’t know what to do.”
I rearrange myself on the couch so my feet are on the floor. I tug a pillow onto my lap for a flimsy guard to my ego and heart.
“Nana asked about you,” he says. “She was kind of pissed you didn’t come.”
Well, I wasn’t asked.
“That’s nice,” I say. “I’m glad she likes me.”
“That’s for sure.�
�
He holds my gaze. I think he’s as unsure of what to say as I am. So I jump right in. Might as well.
“I get what last night was,” I say.
“You do?”
I nod. “And I don’t expect you to want to drag me in front of your family because we slept together. I’m a big girl, Peck. I didn’t read into it.” Ish.
“No. No, no, no,” he says. He moves to the edge of the chair. His elbows rest on his knees. “You’re wrong. That’s not it at all.”
My body still as I take in the seriousness in his face. I’m afraid to reply—to say anything at all—in case I just misinterpreted that.
He blows out a breath and smiles. But it’s a gesture that’s not made to ease my mind, but a sign that he’s trying to get himself together.
“Let me ask you this,” he says. “Do you think yesterday changed anything between us?”
I consider his question. “Well, I know now that you can deliver an a-plus orgasm.”
He grins.
I grin too.
“I’m glad that we still have this,” he says, looking relieved. “I was afraid we’d messed this up somehow.”
“Me too.” I set the pillow to the side. “I’ve worried all day about it. And then you didn’t call and stuff and I—”
“That was my mistake. I’m sorry. I should’ve.” He clears his throat. “I just want you to know, without a doubt, that last night … well, it meant something to me. I don’t know what, exactly. I’m still a little confused, to be honest. But I … there’s … you know.”
I do know. I think. And it’s how I feel too. But hearing him admit that out loud, his voice so earnest, does something to me—something deep and powerful.
I smile and try not to blush.
“Thank you for saying that,” I say. “But you don’t owe me an explanation. You don’t owe me anything.”
He sits back in his chair again. “I believe that. I actually think you owe me at this point.”
“What?” I laugh.
“Well, I bought an expensive set of pots and pans because of you. I’m renting you a room in my house—and a bathroom. And you got off … four? Five times yesterday? You clearly are in debt to me.”
My shoulders fall as the tension that’s built all day melts away. “I don’t pay my debts. Just so you know.”
“Oh, thanks for telling me now.” He winks. “But seriously, I’m sorry if I made things weird today. It was just … a weird day.”
I nod, mulling that over. My gaze goes back to the television, and I act like I know what’s going on. Really, I just want a minute to decipher what he said.
It was just a weird day.
What does that mean?
“My brother announced today that he and Sawyer are moving home,” Peck says.
“That’s great. Are you happy?”
“Yeah. Sawyer is a cute little shit. I’m excited to get to show him the ropes.”
“You mean make him ornery?”
Peck laughs. “Oh, he’s already ornery. I had no part in that.”
I watch his face light up. He seems completely energized and over the moon about Vincent’s news. It makes my heart happy.
It’s not hard to imagine Peck running around with a little kid as a sidekick. The idea makes me grin.
“I bet you’re a great uncle,” I say.
“I hope I am. I didn’t really have that level of family growing up. I had Walker’s dad, but he was always working at the shop, so I didn’t see him much. And he was pretty standoffish when it came to things like life lessons. You just kind of knew what he expected … and also knew he’d stick a boot in your ass if you didn’t follow along.”
I laugh.
He rests his elbows on his knees again. His head is free from a hat, which doesn’t seem to happen often. His hair looks like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times today, and I wish I could reach out and take a turn.
“How was Nana today?” I ask.
“She was good. Great, actually, since Vincent told he they’re staying in town.” He sighs happily. “Being there and watching her with us boys was pretty special. It’s … what matters in life, I think.”
He turns slowly, lifting his eyes to mine. Our gazes connect like two superheroes colliding above a battlefield.
I sit back, absorbing the impact of his stare. He leans forward as if it will help him dig deeper into my thoughts. All I can see is how he cared for Nana. How he’d do anything for her, and I’m guessing that would extend to all his family.
All those he loves.
“You’ll be a great dad,” I tell him.
“What about you?”
“What about me?” I ask.
“Do you want to be a mother?”
My breathing quickens. I fiddle with the edge of a pillow.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don’t.”
“Can I ask why?”
I stand and walk over to the little fireplace beneath the television. There are pictures on the mantle. I gaze at them, taking in Peck’s smiling face as a little boy and pictures of him and his cousins.
“Things like this,” I say, pointing at the images. “This makes me think that having a family would be amazing. But then I remember my own familial experience, which was nothing like this at all, and I’m not sure.” I furrow my brow. “Does that make me a bad person?”
He shakes his head. “Not at all.”
“I’ve never known a love like you should have for your kids,” I admit. “I’ve never felt anything like that coming from me, and I’ve never felt anyone else love me like that. So what if I can’t … do it? What if it doesn’t come naturally to me?”
“I think that’s probably something a lot of people worry about.”
I shrug. “I don’t want to mess someone up because a gene is omitted in my genome that gives me a mother’s unconditional love. Besides,” I say, “I’d have to find someone who wants to build that kind of life together. And I’d have to trust them explicitly to get to that point. And, well, I’m not even sure if that’s practical. Or realistic.”
“I have the same worries sometimes.”
“Really?”
He stands too. “Yeah. I mean, I want a family someday. I want the life my nana and pops had. But my luck, I’ll fall in love with someone who doesn’t want those things too.”
My heart hurts for him. He deserves every good thing in the world, and the idea of him not getting it seems … tragic.
But does that mean he’s not in love with Molly?
He walks my way, reaching for me.
My heart leaps in my chest as I place my palm in his. He rubs his thumb over the top of my hand and grins.
“You are blissfully unaware, aren’t you?” he asks.
“Of what?”
He laughs. “So let’s get the elephant in the room out in the open.”
I gulp. The elephant isn’t just too big to be ignored, but it’s sweaty and stinky and right in front of our faces.
I don’t know how this is going to go. My first instinct is to protect my heart, to build a wall as tall as I can so it doesn’t hurt when he tells me he wants to cool things off. But as I look into his eyes and feel his smile settling over me, I’m not afraid.
“I know you’re wondering what’s happening between us the same as I am. And if you aren’t, well, I guess I look like a pussy now.”
I grin. “I guess if that’s the case, you’ll just have to prove your manhood.”
He shakes his head, trying to hide his smile.
“But, yes, I have wondered a time or sixteen thousand today,” I admit. “Last night was kind of amazing …”
He pulls me close, our hands locked together between us.
“Tell you what,” he says. “Let’s take things a day at a time. If we want to hate each other one day, then fine. If we wanna fuck each other’s brains out another day, awesome.”
“No, that’s better than awesome.�
��
He chuckles. “And if we want space and room to sort of do our own thing, then that’s perfectly fine. But I like having you around, Hawkeye.”
My heart flutters in my chest at his simple, sweet words. I like having you around. That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Period. Because it’s not a comparison or challenge of some sort. It’s a statement. One that warms me from the inside out.
“And I kind of like having you around, Wes.”
His brows shoot to the ceiling. “So it’s Wes now, huh?”
“Wesley is a mouthful.”
“Is that one of your innuendos?” he teases.
“Well,” I say, batting my lashes. “I don’t actually know that to be true or not. But we could remedy that.”
“Name the place and time, sweetheart.”
I unwind my hand from his and take a step back. His eyes grow wide as I grin lasciviously.
“How about right here, right now?” I ask.
“I like it.”
“You will. I promise,” I say, working at his belt. “You will.”
His hands capture mine. He brings them to the small of my back as he tugs me close to him again. He kisses the tip of my nose.
“I’m going to hold you to that little promise,” he whispers. “But can I just kiss you first?”
I stand on my tiptoes and bring my lips to his. God, I love kissing this man. And I’m in awe that he didn’t want me on my knees first, pleasuring him, but wanted to kiss me before. First. Like it was more important.
What sort of a man does that?
This one. The one with a massive heart and a beguiling soul. And it’s at this moment that I know, without a doubt, there aren’t walls big enough to save me from him. If he wants to break my heart, I can’t do anything to stop him.
Twenty-Four
Dylan
I knock on the front door.
As soon as my knuckles touch the wood, I second-guess this decision. All of it. Not just the knocking on the front door as opposed to the back—the one that Peck and I used when we were here together, but also the fact that I’m even standing on Nana’s porch in the first place.
Crazy: Gibson Boys Book #4 Page 18
