My smile eviscerates as I’m reminded that it’s not justone Hensley I’ve let down, but Malia and Beau too – the very people who stepped up and welcomed me into their family whenever I wanted when I was just a lost, grieving ten year old. And this is how I repay them – putting their daughter in the hospital. Still, when they divert their path towards us, their eyes widen with concern rather than anger and then frantically scan me when I fully face them.
‘Duke, honey, you’re covered in blood,’ Malia says, pressing a hand to her chest as she struggles to rip her gaze from my bloodied clothes. ‘We need to get you inside and cleaned up.’
‘I’m fine, honestly,’ I try to brush her off.
‘You’re not fine, son. You’ve been in an accident too,’ Beau replies, thick brows pulling together. The endearment ofsondoesn’t go unmissed, lodging uncomfortably in my heart as the man I’ve always seen as a brother to me is currently avoiding my eyes while he hovers beside his father.
‘Is everything okay?’ Malia asks, eyes flicking between me and Wyatt. When neither of us reply, she huffs and folds her arms, pressing us with her stare.
Finally, Wyatt clears his throat and turns to me. His face is too blank to get a read on him. ‘You should get your shoulder checked. I saw the way you winced. I don’t want you in pain too.’
And then he’s trudging back towards the hospital entrance. I take that small suggestion as evidence he still cares, but my heart races at the sight of him walking away from me again.
‘Wyatt,’ I call out, unable to stop myself.
His shoulders tense as he halts at the entrance but doesn’t look around. ‘Just … give me some time, Duke. I can’t deal with all this right now. It’s too much.’
39
Duke
‘She’ll be home soon,’ Gram assures me from the armchair where she’s reading, glasses having slipped all the way to the end of her nose. ‘You’re doing the right thing, giving them some space.’
My only response as I lay out on her couch the following morning from the accident, my arm now in a sling thanks to the broken collarbone I suffered from the crash, is to nod, hoping her words might finally settle the pattering mess that is my heart. The long conversation we had yesterday after I turned up at her doorstep, unable to sit alone in my apartment as I waited on news about Cherry, and whether Wyatt had forgiven me yet, eased it somewhat. Connecting with my grandmother over concerns I’d never have dared share before added a whole deeper level to our relationship that I hadn’t expected. That I wished I’d have known about before, when I could’ve been sharing more with her.
But today’s a fresh new day with fresh new worries and knowing I can’t even call Cherry because of her batteredphone and her need to rest, relying on Rory texting me updates instead and to relay any messages I want to send, has written over whatever ease I found yesterday, leaving me with a whirring mind.
The mid-morning sun glints off the edges of Gram’s book, illuminating the clinch cover that I hadn’t paid any attention to before. It looks scarily like a spicy book I know Cherry and Rory love to talk about, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
Luckily, I don’t have much of chance to dwell on the fact that my girlfriend and friend may have roped my grandmother into their spicy romance book club because the doorbell goes.
‘Oh, will you get that, Junior? I’ve just got to the juicy bit,’ Gram says, waving her book at me. The possibility thatthe juicy bitmight mean my grandmother is about to read a sex scene with me in the same room has me flying up from the couch and out of the room alone, regardless of whether there’s someone at the door. No wonder she comes up with all these filthy words for Scrabble.
The last thing I expect when I open the door is to find Wyatt hovering on the porch. Shadows line his eyes as his gaze stays downcast on the wooden floor for a beat before he offers me a weary smile – one that doesn’t quite reach his cheeks.
‘Hey,’ he says, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Do you have a minute? To talk?’
‘Sure.’ I cock my head towards the bench on the porch, stepping out and closing the door firmly, even though I’m sure Gram will have her ear pressed up against it the whole time. I drop myself onto the bench, and Wyatt takes a secondbefore he joins, a heavy sigh coming out as he does. Once again, the moment drowns in silence, but I sit in it, waiting for Wyatt to speak first this time since he sought me out.
‘What was it in the end?’ he asks first, investigating my sling.
‘Broken collarbone.’
‘Shit.’ He scrapes his palm across his stubble. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘Not really. Just gotta rest, keep it in this sling for a while, and I guess I won’t be throwing drinks about in the air for a while.’
‘Any help you need at the bar, just call me, yeah?’ He offers me a brief smile, and relief rushes through my veins just like when the sunshine finally broke through the slate-grey clouds this morning. Because the storm is finally over.
I’ve not lost him.
‘Yeah, thanks, man.’
‘So,’ he continues, ‘you love my sister.’ Each word seems pushed out, like the notion doesn’t sit right on his tongue. A sentence he probably never expected to say – hell, I never expected anyone to be saying such out loud, not when it was once just a fantasy to me. It still has my head rearing back, has my heart stuttering like I’ve been caught out, forgetting that it’s all laid out in the open now. Nowhere to run. Noneedto run.
‘Yeah. A lot, actually,’ I laugh out, wincing. ‘How’s she doing?’
Eventually, a softness takes residence in his eyes. ‘She’s doing better – we just got her home. She’s tired still, but honestly she seems more concerned aboutyouthan herself.’
