CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Deacon
Iknow something is wrong as soon as Amelia opens her front door and ushers me inside. She’s tense and unsmiling.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “Is Harper okay?”
She narrows her eyes, her shoulders rising. “I’m DogPerson.”
Damn it. She knows. And the only reasonable option is to tell her the truth. “I know.”
She lowers her chin, blinks once, then looks up at me with so much anger and hate in her eyes, I take a step back and bump into the door.
“Get out,” she says.
“I’m sorry, Amelia. I wanted—”
“I don’t want to hear it. You lied to me. We’re done. Get out.”
She’s right. I lied to her. I broke her trust. Clearly, that’s a deal-breaker for her. As it should be, obviously. I can’t help giving it one more try. “I was trying to do the right thing. You—”
“Lying is never the right thing.” Her words are decisive and spoken through gritted teeth, her cheeks flushed with anger, her eyes shimmering with pain. Pain I caused. “Get out.”
Cash’s words ring in my head. He’s right. If I stay, I’m crossing the line to creepy stalker, and I’m disregarding her wishes. I’m not going to be that guy, no matter how much it hurts to grab the doorknob and let myself out of her house.
I don’t remember the drive home or climbing the stairs to my room.
“Hey, man,” Cash says when I walk into our room and flick on the light. “I’m trying to sleep here.”
I turn off the light, feeling numb and hollowed out. “Sorry.”
“I thought you were staying at Amelia’s tonight.”
“We broke up. You were right. I was becoming the creepy stalker guy.”
“Sorry, Deke. We’ll go out this weekend and find someone to take your mind off her.”
I go through my nightly routine and get into bed, but I don’t sleep. I replay every chance I had to tell Amelia the truth and how badly I screwed up.
No matter how I spin it though, the outcome doesn’t change. Amelia was never looking for anything more than casual, and I was never going to be the guy who could change her mind.
I get up in the morning. I go to work. I eat my three meals a day and I do my job, but everything feels grayed out and dull. Even Sebastian’s moods don’t affect me.
After work, three days after Amelia dumped me, I take off to the mountains. I hike until I can’t breathe and can’t think about anything beyond the pain in my quads and in my lungs, but I still see her face with every step I take. I still hear her angry demand for me to get out.
Most of all, I remember the pain on her face. Casual or not, I still had the power to hurt her, and I did.
I get home in the dark, sweaty and exhausted, but the ache in my chest is still throbbing and the idea of another night in my bed, reliving my breakup with Amelia, is out of the question.
I get back in my truck, and I head to my favorite bar. Maybe I can drink Amelia away.
***
“Hey, butthead,” Cash says as he pulls my comforter off. “Get your hungover ass out of bed. You’ve got a job today.”
I roll onto my back and glare at him. “I’m off today.” Only because there’s currently nothing for me to do at any of our job sites.
“You’re never off,” Sebastian says from the doorway. “There’s always something to be done. What the hell is wrong with you, anyway? You woke us all up stumbling back here drunk last night.”
