Trying It All

by Christi Barth

  “That’s another great plan.” Logan clapped him on the back, too. “See, you’re back on track.”

  “I’ve got a ways to go. But I have to thank you all for not letting me give up on myself.”

  Josh walked to the minifridge in the corner and pulled out a handful of longnecks. “Hey, as long as we’re giving Ry the third degree about his life choices…did you tell your parents you’re not taking the job?”

  “No.”

  “Tell your boss?”

  Riley headed down the hallway to the storage room. Like he needed to stick around for this bullshit. “No.”

  “Pussy.” But Josh handed him a beer as he said it, which softened the verbal blow.

  “Hey, it’s been a rough week. But I’m going to turn everything around, start fresh, tomorrow.”

  It’d be a busy day. He needed to make a plan.

  Some things never changed.

  Hopefully, some things were about to change.

  Chapter 24

  Summer readjusted the seatbelt to accommodate her awkward position: stretched out across the backseat. And hoped that it’d be as quick and simple to readjust things with her best friend. “Thanks for driving me to work, Chloe.”

  “Please.” She chuffed out a breath. “I’m not leaving you and your healing leg to the mercy of an Uber driver. I told you, consider me your chauffeur until you get the all-clear to get behind the wheel again. As long as I’m in charge of the radio.”

  The morning-drive-time inanities were the least of her worries. Summer didn’t care about the radio. Wasn’t looking out the window to assess rush-hour traffic and convince Chloe to take a better route. No, she was staring down at the hands in her lap. Worried that things would never be the same between them.

  “I know you said that on Wednesday. But…that was before we fought last night.”

  “So?”

  So…it was horrible. Superstrong painkillers were the only way she’d gotten to sleep last night. And worry had awakened her from that drugged stupor far too early. Summer had stayed in Chloe’s apartment so she had help these first few days post-surgery. It made her remember all the nights they’d talked themselves to sleep sharing a room in college. Sharing an apartment right after.

  There’d been no talking last night. They got home from the shoot, and Chloe shut Summer into the bedroom with little more than a good night. Was that how it would be from now on? Had she not only lost Riley, but wrecked things with Chloe?

  Summer refused to sit on the worry knotting her stomach any longer. It wasn’t optimal to only have a view of her best friend’s ponytail, rather than catching cues from her facial expression. But they had to have this out. Now. Pre-coffee, even.

  “So we’ve never had a fight that serious before.”

  “True. Good to know that after being friends this long, there are still some milestones for us to knock off.” Chloe honked repeatedly—fruitlessly—at a motorcade of black SUVs that screamed “Secret Service detail.”

  Why did she have to drag this conversation out of her? They’d barely exchanged a dozen words this morning. It was obvious things were topsy-turvy between them.

  But okay—she’d go ahead and state the screamingly obvious. Summer traced the wide pink, green, and brown chevrons on her long skirt. Because even having surgery was no reason to skimp on looking snazzy. “So I wasn’t sure that you still wanted to turn your schedule inside out to accommodate me.”

  “You mean because you’re a stubborn scaredy-cat?”

  Guess they were going to rehash last night’s argument instead of moving forward and clearing the air. Chloe was supposed to be the sensible one. Summer was supposed to be the snarky, flippant one. Everything about this weekend was upside down and inside out. “Chloe,” she said in a tone so sad and worn out it might as well have been Santa Claus’s suspenders.

  “Just clarifying.”

  “You made that point crystal clear last night.”

  “Did I? Hmmm. I wonder. Because if I’d hammered the point home, you would’ve come out to the couch at two a.m. to tell me how darned right I was.”

  Geez. Talk about skewed priorities. “Can we not talk about the reason behind the fight? Can we just talk about that we fought and it sucked and I don’t want to do it again and please can everything be okay because I can’t lose you, too?”

  Damn it. Her throat had choked up at those last few words. Tears and snot—not exactly the morning-fresh, dewy look she’d tried to achieve with her coral palette today.

  “Oh, no. No, don’t cry.” Chloe reached between the seats to pat Summer’s good leg. “Should I pull over? Do you need an emergency hug?”

  “I don’t know. It depends on what you say next.”

  Chloe kept driving, but darted her glance to Summer in the rearview mirror. “Well, I’m going to call you an idiot for thinking that any fight could ever derail our friendship, no matter how bad. We expressed different opinions. Strongly. But I love you to pieces, Summer, and I always will.”

  That almost made the tears gush harder. “Okay. Me too, you. BFFs forever.”

  “Do I need to get it written on a cake so you believe me?”

  Laughter cleared out the rest of the tears. “If I say yes, we get cake, right? So…obviously, you do. I think it should be pumpkin cheesecake.”

  “Fine. I’ll get a cake for us for tonight. Should we invite Madison and Brooke over to share our BFF cake?”

  “They might need to bring their own cake. I’m pretty depressed.”

  “Because you’re an idiotic fraidy-cat.”

  “Chloe!” Summer balled up the tissue she’d just used to blot beneath her eyes and tossed it at her ear. It landed, of course, in her ever-present hood. “Will you stop with that?”

  “I will if you dig deep—past the hurt, past the bitterness, past the fear—and give me one good reason why you aren’t crawling over broken glass to assure Riley that you love him and will do anything to be with him.”

  Summer traced the Velcro straps of her leg brace. “I can’t even bend my leg to pee, let alone crawl.”

  “Don’t be sassy. Be serious.”

  “I feel like I’d get less pressure to share my feelings from a psychiatrist.”

  “Probably.” Chloe winked at her in the mirror. “Because they don’t know you inside and out like I do. Quit stalling. Answer my question.”

  It seemed safe to assume that Chloe wouldn’t take He dumped me in my hospital bed as a valid reason. Honestly? Summer had been thinking about this all night. About how her friends, the people who loved her and were supposed to be on her side, all thought she’d screwed up. That she’d given Riley plenty of reason to walk away.

  Because of the bone-deep truth that she did love him, this was so, so hard to swallow. The thought that her actions, or words, or lack thereof or whatever, had given him cause to give up on them. The thought that somehow she’d hurt him.

  That was inexcusable. Unforgivable. The only reason she hadn’t rushed in to wake Chloe at oh-dawn o’clock vibrating with that realization…was that it didn’t matter. There wasn’t a fix. No bandage to slap onto their broken hearts.

  Riley didn’t trust her.

  So it was over.

  Resignation tanked her voice into a deep monotone. “The only reason is that it wouldn’t make a difference. He’s done with me.”

  “That’s your only reason?”

  “Yes. You all were right. Well, at the very least, sixty/forty right in his favor.” She’d spew it all out, just this once, and then insist that they were done forever discussing Riley Ness, the man she loved but couldn’t keep. “I am an idiot. I’m still letting fear motivate me, letting it be an excuse. I’m largely to blame for my utter misery. And I have to live with that. So for the love of all that is holy, can we please pull over at Starbucks for a pumpkin spice latte with extra whipped cream?”

  “Sure. I can pull over.” Chloe nipped to the curb and slammed on the brakes. “I thought I’d have to
go around the block a couple of times. You cracked faster than I anticipated.”

  “Right. Because it’s so shocking that I’m begging for caffeine when I’m shaking off Tylenol with codeine and it isn’t even nine a.m.”

  Chloe threw her arm over the seat and twisted to grin at her. “You’ll have to wait for the coffee.”

  “Don’t be a sadistic bitch.”

  “Your only reason? It doesn’t exist.” After shaking her head so hard that her ponytail thwacked her in the face, Chloe continued. “Riley asked me to bring you here. Now get out.”

  “What?”

  Then the door she’d propped her back against opened. Summer would’ve fallen backward if strong hands hadn’t caught her. Hands that immediately pulled her out and into a strong, cradling grip.

  “Riley?”

  “Hi.” He carried her over to a low stone wall, set her down gently, then returned to the car, where Chloe handed him her crutches. With an ear-to-ear grin and a wave, Chloe honked twice and drove off. Summer realized she was just a few hundred yards down from the rectory.

  Riley, in his hideous NTSB work attire of a formless navy suit, had never looked more handsome. Or wired. Or nervous. Summer knew she had bags under her eyes. Not just from the late-night shoot. Or the constant throb in her leg. Every night she’d spent sobbing and sleepless probably showed. Yet he was spit-polished brighter than Griff’s dress uniform shoes.

  Unfair.

  Also? Inexplicable.

  Just like why she was here. Why Chloe had brought her here. “What’s going on?”

  He planted his feet wide in front of her on the cracked sidewalk. Pressed his palms against his thighs. Including the one still wrapped in a stretchy tan bandage. “I’m asking for a do-over.”

  “Of what?”

  “Our last conversation.”

  Hope surged in Summer like a caffeine shot straight to the heart. But she had to be practical. Had to be reasoned and smart. Even though that was far from her usual MO. Surging ahead without thought is what had gotten them to this spot, after all.

  Squinting against the early morning sun glare, she said, “Did you mean everything you said last time? Because if so, I’m not sure that it’s worth going around a second time.”

  He dipped his head. “I did. There’s no point sugarcoating it: I meant what I said. You probably meant what you said, right?”

  Summer wanted to say no. She wanted to just hop up into his arms and apologize profusely for anything and everything and cover him in kisses until he agreed to come back to her.

  But that wouldn’t actually fix what was broken between them.

  “I did,” she echoed softly.

  Riley looked past her, back at the rectory, and sucked in a breath as though the sight of the home he shared with his best friends gave him the strength to go on. “The thing is? I think we stopped the discussion too soon. We identify causes of disasters at the NTSB.”

  She winced. “When you think back about where this conversation took a nosedive? I’ll remind you that you called us a disaster.”

  “I’m calling our last conversation a disaster.” His gaze swung back to meet hers. “And it was. No other way to interpret the facts. But the key is, at the NTSB, we don’t stop at identifying the root cause. We keep going. We come up with fixes. Work-arounds. Solutions. You and I stopped before taking that next, crucial step.”

  “I’m with you so far.” Summer wasn’t just with him. She was practically leading the parade, dressed in a sequined leotard and twirling a baton. Because if Riley had come up with a solution? She’d get up and do a pirouette—on pointe—on her broken leg.

  He tried to clasp his hands at his waist. Thanks to the big bandage, he just ended up cradling the broken one. But Riley still stood tall and strong. As if convincing her of this theory were of the utmost import.

  “Upon careful examination, it appears that I walked out on you because I was afraid. That I’ve charted my life on the basis of fear. I told myself I was being proactive and prepared by learning survival stuff, learning multiple languages. That I joined the NTSB to help people. All true, to an extent. But the core of so many decisions I made was rooted in fear. Fear of not being able to stop—or handle—the next bad thing that happened.” Riley gave a slow shake of his head from side to side. “Living in fear really sucks.”

  Never, in a million years, would she have expected any of that to come out of the perfectly prepared, perfectly together Riley Ness. Nor would she have thought that two people, so completely opposite, would be so identical deep down.

  Shockingly, amazingly for this emotionally charged moment, Summer giggled. “I know.”

  His green eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”

  Crutches shoved under her arms, Summer stood. They needed to face each other, as close to eye to eye as their differing heights would permit. “It turns out, upon careful reflection, that I based my life on a deep-seated fear I was too scared to even acknowledge. Until now. Until something greater and stronger came along. Until I fell in love with you.”

  He tried to shove his hands in his pockets. Cursed when only one fit. The whole broken-hand thing was really messing with his gestures. Which almost made her giggle again. “No. No way, Summer. Don’t you dare start saying nice things to me. I have to get it all out. I’m so, so sorry. I’ve been an idiot.”

  Letting her head drop so her hair covered the grin she couldn’t hold back but still felt was wholly inappropriate for this conversation, Summer corrected him. “No. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ve been an idiot. I’ve even got backup—Chloe, Madison, and Brooke all say so.”

  “Well, Griff, Knox, Logan, and Josh all say the same about me. Because that’s apparently an unwritten rule of the Naked Men—we call each other out on our epic stupidity.”

  “Interesting new motto. Is it going in the header across the top of the blog?”

  Riley grabbed her shoulders. Shook her just a little until she looked up at him. “Forget the blog. Forget everyone else. Here’s my confession. I didn’t turn down the promotion yet because I was scared it would impact me long-term. I was scared to tell my parents I didn’t want it. And I was so scared that I’d lose you in some freak accident that I didn’t want to risk loving you.”

  “All that fear sounds like a three-thousand-pound weight tied to your big toe.” And she knew how much that sucked. At least, she knew now. Because Summer’s fear had been an equally giant kite, tugging her this way and that at every whim, into the clouds, instead of allowing her to take root and flourish.

  His hands gentled, stroking up and down her arms. “But a very wise and beautiful woman once asked me if I wanted to make a name for myself or if I wanted to be happy.”

  “Has that been keeping you up at night? I didn’t intend for it to be a stumper.”

  “Yes. Damn it, every word you spoke has kept me up at night. Coming up with an answer has had my brain chasing in circles for days.”

  She tipped her head down, fluttered her lashes. Because what fun was an epic apology if it didn’t involve flirting? “Got one now?”

  “Definitely.” That fire she adored smoldered deep in his green eyes, even as certainty rang through his tone as clear as a bell. “Everything I do should be about being happy. Well…not eating-six-plates-of-nachos-in-a-row indulgence, but emotional happiness.”

  “I dunno. We could maybe try that…once.”

  “It hit me that if something I’m doing doesn’t make me happy, why would I choose to keep doing it?”

  Oh, he got it, all right. Joy was trumping fear. “You shouldn’t.”

  “Right.” Riley urged her with a hand on the small of her back to return to the wall. As usual, he was thinking of her comfort, taking care of her. Such a remarkable man. This time, they both sat. Riley lifted her leg across his thighs. “I need help walking that line. You’re the person I know who most embodies choosing happiness. I’m wondering if you’d be willing to be my tutor.”

  “That could
be very fun. I’d be good at it, too. I’d reward you accordingly, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  Summer stroked his cheek, ran a finger along the edge of his ear. The urge to touch him, after so many days of not, was impossible to resist. “The thing is, I need a tutor, too.”

  Riley cocked his head to the side. “For what?”

  “Because you were right in what you threw at me in that hospital room. I’m actually quite good at business. I have a five-year plan, and I forecast pretty darned accurately. My investment portfolio isn’t half bad, either. I’ve started planning my parents’ fiftieth anniversary party, even though it’s two years away. I do believe in the future—except where my life and my heart are concerned.”

  “Because that’s what you lost in the shooting.”

  “Exactly.” Summer loved that he understood. It was part of what made Riley so special. It made him The One. “I lost my life—even if only for a little while—and I lost the ability to believe I’d have a long one worth giving over to love. And I was scared that if I let myself love someone, they could be taken away from me.”

  “How’s that working out for you?”

  “Lousy. It’s hard to change old habits. So I need you to tutor me in forward thinking for myself. To remind me to check the weather so I don’t ruin a pair of Jimmy Choos in the rain.”

  That old accusatory glare she now loved tightened all his features. “Those shoes cost hundreds of dollars. Did you really do that?”

  “More times than you want to know.” Summer tilted to touch her forehead to his. “Riley, you’re right. I don’t want to risk myself, or you, or our not-yet-ready-to-be-discussed children. I want to stop being scared of the possibility of losing it all and just relish what I do have. Cherish it. Work my darnedest to protect it.”

  “I’m good at that.”

  “I’ve noticed.” It was how he made her feel so safe. Safer than ever before. Safe in a way that erased a tension she hadn’t realized she’d been holding since the shooting.