Crazy: Gibson Boys Book #4

by Locke, Adriana

  “Everybody already has their mind made up about me.” She sniffles. “I don’t even think it matters what I do anymore.”

  “Stop mean-mugging everyone,” I say, bumping her with my shoulder. “And taunting people. And …” I wait until she looks at me. “And show people who you are. Let your guard down a bit. Give people a chance.”

  “They already hate me.”

  “They don’t hate you because they don’t know you, and instead of showing them who you really are, you just feed into their assumptions.”

  I look back at the house. Desperation to get to Dylan eats at me, but I know I need to have this conversation.

  “I’m not like her,” Molly says. “I’m not all cheerleader-y sweet.”

  “She’s not always sweet,” I joke. “But honestly, listen to me. You are better than what you show the world. Deep down inside that little black heart of yours is a girl who’s funny. And fun. And thoughtful.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  “Remember the time you brought me that friendship bracelet?” I tease.

  “I was eight.”

  “And you told me if I told anyone that you’d kill me. But,” I say as we both laugh, “it proves you got it in ya.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You do. I know it.”

  We sit quietly, the crickets chirping around us as Molly digests my advice. I have no idea where all that came from, but I’m glad it did. I’m even more glad that she seems to be listening.

  I stand, and she follows suit. We trudge our way back up the driveway. Some of the lights inside have been switched off.

  We reach Molly’s car and stop. She looks up at me with mascara streaks painted down her cheeks.

  “Are we still friends?” she asks.

  “I told you a long time ago that I’ll always have your back. And I will. But I’m not the same person I was a month ago.”

  “Do you think she’s changed you that much?”

  “No. I don’t think she’s changed me. I think she’s shown me things about me and about life. She’s given me hope, you know?”

  “I need someone to give me hope.”

  “You work on you. Stop worrying about everyone else and looking for someone else to validate you, Mol. Use that power you have for good instead of evil.”

  We exchange a smile.

  “Thanks, Peck.”

  “Anytime.” I start toward the house but stop. “No. Wait. Not anytime.” I face her. “Real quick—I’ll always be your friend, but we gotta have some boundaries.”

  “I don’t do well with those.” The corner of her lip turns toward the sky. “I’m kidding.”

  “Just … no coming by here unless you’re running from zombies. And probably shouldn’t text or call, you know? And Dylan is a great girl.”

  “I’m good with all this, but can we leave off that last part?” she jokes.

  I think.

  “It would serve you well to make friends with her,” I say.

  She opens her car door and climbs in. “I’m sure your girlfriend wants to be my friend.” She rolls her eyes.

  “You never know.”

  “Yeah. See ya later.”

  “Bye.”

  I head back toward the house. I hear her car door shut and the engine start, followed by the tell-tale sound of gravel crunching as she backs out.

  I don’t look back.

  The front door is partially open, and I step inside. “Dylan?” I walk through the house until I find her standing in her bedroom. Not mine. “What’s going on? What about the movie?”

  “I got tired.”

  “Oh.” I look around. She’s pulled her blankets down like she’s preparing to climb inside. “You sleeping in here tonight?”

  “I didn’t want to go to your room without you.”

  That makes sense, but I don’t like it.

  “We could bring some blankets into the living room and turn the movie on,” I say. “Wanna?”

  “I’m not really in the mood.” She blows out a breath. “I guess seeing you walk outside to talk to another woman kind of fucked up my energy flow or something.”

  I reach for her. She lets me take her hand and pull her against me. I wrap my arms around her as tightly as I can and nuzzle my face into her hair.

  “You could’ve come out there with me,” I say.

  “I know. I’m just … jealous.”

  The thought makes me smile. I’m a total dick. “Well, so you know, because it’s important to me that you do know—I told her not to come by. Or call. Or text. Or be a jerk to you or anyone else, actually.”

  I feel her smile against my chest. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  I lean back and brush the hair out of her face so I can see into her eyes. I feel it again, stronger than ever. It’s that rush of comfort, of being perfectly content with your life. With your partner.

  With the woman you love.

  “What?” she asks. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”

  “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

  “But …”

  I tug her hand and guide her to my room.

  To our room.

  I just have to figure out how to make that happen.

  We climb in bed. She snuggles up against me, her hand flat against my heart.

  “Peck?”

  “Yeah, Hawkeye?”

  “I didn’t like it when you left with her just now.”

  “I know, and I told you that she won’t—”

  “I meant, that it was different. When Charlie left me for his ex, I was angry and felt betrayed. But I don’t think I ever actually felt jealous. Is that weird?”

  I think about it. “Probably. Maybe. I don’t know.” I pull her closer.

  “But tonight, with you … I don’t know. It just didn’t feel good.”

  I truly am a dick because that makes me feel pretty darn good. But I won’t leave her hanging. Even I have limits on dickiness.

  “I know,” I say. “And every moment I was outside with Molly, I wanted to be inside with you. She saw that. She knew. She commented on it, actually.”

  “She must hate me, huh?”

  “Not sure, to be honest.” I kiss the top of her head. “But I did tell her that things have changed. For the better. For you.” And me.

  I feel her smile against my shoulder, and nothing feels better than this moment. Dylan in my arms. In my bed. In our bed.

  I gulp.

  “Okay,” she whispers. “Night, Wes.”

  “Night.”

  It doesn’t take long before she’s sleeping peacefully.

  I grab my phone and dim the light and type in, ‘How to tell someone you love them.’

  Because what the hell do I know about this? Not a damn thing. I’m not even sure if this is the right thing to do.

  I look down at her and smile.

  Even if it’s not the right thing, I’m going to try anyway.

  Twenty-Seven

  Dylan

  “What are you doing today?”

  Navie’s voice is chipper, especially for nine in the morning. As a bartender, she doesn’t keep early morning hours.

  “I’m screwing off today,” I say. “I start work next week, so this is my last hurrah.”

  Navie laughs.

  “Really I’m just trying to get my life in order over here. I made a list of a bunch of things I need to do before my life get hectic again.” I tap the steering wheel as I wait at a stop sign. “Why couldn’t I have been born a rich princess and just paid someone to do my life’s paperwork for me?”

  “Girl, don’t even start with that. That’s my dream right there. I’ll still work for a living. I just want to find someone to come over and handle my life. Like … a wife. I need a wife.”

  “Same,” I say with a laugh.

  I pass a sign for Bluebird Hill. My face lights up as I remember our night up there. I’m still picking mud out of my hair, which is slightly annoying, but I wouldn’t chan
ge those memories for anything.

  That’s the epitome of why I fell for Peck. His silliness and fun-loving side are balanced with a part of him that’s so effortlessly sexy. He’s the perfect package.

  I was so happy last night when we got home. On top of the world, even. But then Molly McCarter showed up and put enough of a wobble in my universe that I’m not quite perched on the top of Mount Happiness anymore.

  “Why are you up so early?” I ask Navie.

  “The neighbor’s dog, actually. It started barking at six thirty. I’m not thrilled that I got virtually no sleep, but damn, I feel accomplished already today. Is this what the rest of the world feels like when they get up at the crack ass of dawn?”

  “Not usually,” I say, laughing. “We’re usually more bitter about it.”

  “Well, I don’t think I’d want to do it every day.”

  My phone buzzes in my cupholder. I look down to see Joanie’s name on the screen. Goodman’s Gas Station is up ahead, and I pull my car into the back entrance. I park next to the side of the building and put it in park.

  “Hang on, Navie,” I say.

  I look down at the screen again.

  Joanie: Hi, Dylan. Did you decide anything on the house? He has someone else interested but wanted to give you first dibs. Please let me know.

  I stare at the phone. In the back of my brain, I’ve known I needed to respond to this. It’s sat there and prickled me over and over again. I don’t know why I haven’t sent her an answer. But I have to now. Time’s up.

  My thumb runs over the screen as I consider my response. Even though I already know what I have to do, I think about each option.

  If this text had come through yesterday, I probably would’ve told her I pass out of some orgasm-fueled optimism. But today is not last night, and my optimism game is waning. It’s not dead, but it’s not killing the world either.

  “Are you there?” Navie asks.

  “Yeah. Hang on.”

  A pang of anxiety sits in the middle of my abdomen, wearing a hole in my stomach since I opened the door and saw Molly on Peck’s porch. The most frustrating thing about it all is that I trust Peck. I do. I know he would never hurt me intentionally. But the fact remains that Charlie didn’t necessarily set out to hurt me either.

  Me: Hi, Joanie. Thanks for the text, and I’m sorry for not responding more promptly. I thought I had a solution to my housing issue, but it turns out, I don’t. I’d love to rent the house. I know I haven’t seen it, but as long as it’s not full of cats, we’ll be fine.

  Joanie: Oh, great! I think you’ll love it. I’ll get with Peter and have him get ahold of you. It’s okay to give him your number, right?

  Me: Yes, please.

  Joanie: Great. He’ll be in touch soon.

  Me: Thanks again.

  I stare at the screen. The deed has been done.

  “Dylannn ….” Navie sings. “Just call me back, fool.”

  “I’m here. I’m here,” I say, bringing the phone to my ear. “I just, um … Well, Joanie texted me about the house she found, and I had to make a decision.”

  My throat burns as I swallow.

  It’s the right choice. I know that. But it doesn’t mean I like the idea of leaving Peck.

  Last night, sleeping in his arms, still felt right. Right but just … unsettled. He told Molly that things were different now, but she’s had unlimited access to him for over twenty years. Will she really give up and bow out? She may not have loved him, but she’s owned him, more or less, I think. And me? I’ve only known him for five minutes.

  The original plan was for me to move out. Just because things took a turn with us romantically doesn’t mean he’s ready for me to live with him. I’m not sure I’m ready for that either.

  That doesn’t mean it’ll feel good to go.

  “You told her no, right?” she asks.

  “I told her yes. I’ll take it.”

  “Um, why? Am I missing something?”

  “Well,” I say, “Molly came by last night and—”

  “What?” she squawks.

  I sigh. “It’s … fine. I think. I guess. I don’t know. I think he did the right thing.”

  “Then why are you moving?”

  “Because time never hurt anyone. I rushed in to my relationship with Charlie and—”

  “He’s not Charlie.”

  “Clearly. I just get in over my head all the damn time, and I don’t want to do that with Peck. If things can work out between us, I want it to happen organically. Slowly. Without the pressure of having me already moved in.”

  She considers this. “Makes sense.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but the words fail to come. Instead, my eyes are glued to a man and a woman who look incredibly familiar. He has a blue hat on his head.

  No.

  They turn ever so slightly, and I get a better look.

  I almost drop the phone.

  Molly and Peck. It’s them. Without a doubt. They’re walking across the parking lot next to each other.

  Maybe he’s just here getting gas. Maybe Walker needed fuel for something at work. Coincidences happen.

  My stomach sloshes, threatening to expel the coffee I drank this morning. I grip the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles turn white.

  “Navie? I’m gonna have to call you back.”

  The words come out wonky. Even I can hear the emotion in my tone.

  What the hell is going on?

  “What are you doing?” Navie demands. “Are you okay?”

  Molly climbs in a little black car, and Peck walks to the other bank of pumps. His truck is partially hidden by the fueling equipment and other trucks in front of it.

  The black car speeds out of the parking lot and takes a left. I watch, holding my breath, as Peck comes to the mouth of the parking lot.

  Turn right. Turn right towards Crank. Come on, Peck.

  “I’ll call you later, Navie.”

  I still don’t hang up. I’m too scared to move. If he turns left …

  A small gasp squeaks out of my mouth as Peck’s truck turns left. Toward the direction Molly went. Away from Crank.

  There’s nothing down that road but a few houses. I ventured that way yesterday morning on a boredom adventure.

  “What’s happening?” Navie demands.

  I wish I knew.

  “Dylan! Damn it.”

  “Sorry,” I say. My voice sounds weak. I hate it. “I just, um, well, I just saw Peck follow Molly away from town from Goodman’s.”

  “No, you fucking didn’t.”

  “Yes, I fucking did.”

  “Dyl …”

  I put my car in drive. “This doesn’t mean anything,” I tell her. “Maybe it’s a coincidence. And even if it’s not, they’re friends. They’re allowed to be friends.”

  “Fuck that.”

  “Navie …”

  She rambles, her emotions about this situation as all over the place as mine. It makes no sense, and I refuse to believe he’s up to no good.

  That’s just not Peck. I feel it in my stomach.

  But I also feel that this is something I’m going to have to figure out how to deal with because she’s not leaving. And I can’t ask him not to be friends with her. I’m not that insecure girl, and I refuse to be.

  My spirit feels deflated as I pull out onto the road. And head right. Toward Peck’s.

  He’s serious about me. I believe that. But I also believe that this thing with Molly is going to have to be navigated, and I don’t know how to do that. I didn’t give myself a whole lot of time to think about it. I did what I do—I jumped in and didn’t consider all the consequences.

  Damn it.

  I squeeze my temples as I pull into Peck’s driveway.

  “Can I stay with you tonight?” I ask Navie.

  “I didn’t know if you remembered I was here or not,” she says. “But, yes, of course.”

  “Thanks.” I turn off the car. “The guy who owns the house is s
upposed to get ahold of me today, so I’ll know more then. But even if I can have the keys right away, I don’t think I can sleep there tonight. I won’t have a bed or anything.”

  Tears flicker in my eyes. They’re hot, almost scalding, as they topple onto my face.

  “Don’t cry,” she whispers. “This will all be fine.”

  “I know. It will.” I swallow hard. “I’m just, um, I’m going to get my personal things in a box and figure out what to tell Peck. I’m too emotional to really put things in a great way right now.”

  “Want me to tell him?”

  I laugh, wiping my face. “No. Thanks. I’d rather not have him hate both of us forever and ever.”

  She laughs too. It’s a sad sound, one that’s filled with pity. And I hate that, but I am pretty pitiful at the moment.

  “Come by anytime. I work at four, but I’ll be here until then,” she says.

  “Okay.” I climb out of the car and face Peck’s house. “I’ll talk to you in a bit.”

  “Bye.”

  I shove my phone in my pocket and take in the cute little house with the rose bushes.

  “Fuck.”

  I head inside to pack up my life.

  Again.

  Twenty-Eight

  Peck

  “What a fucking day.”

  I park my truck next to Dylan’s. It’s a simple thing, an action that becomes routine. A habit. But every time I pull in my driveway and see her car setting there, something happens inside me. The thought alone makes things feel different. And good. And that the possibilities of life going forward might be endless.

  I hop out of the truck and jog to the front door. It occurred to me today that she hasn’t eaten at Peaches yet, and while I would like to spend a lazy evening with her in the kitchen, I know I won’t be able to keep my hands off her. Plus, I’d like to take her out and make her feel special.

  The door swings open. With a furrowed brow, I step inside. A banging sound followed by a thud comes from Dylan’s room.

  “What the hell?”

  I walk down the hallway with my senses on high alert. Peeking in her bedroom, I spot a large box from the barn on her bed … and her standing at the foot.