“Go on.”
“I’m more in love with him now than I ever was,” I confessed, pulling on my collar. “Seeing him with his parents? It was likewatching the blown-apart pieces of him being stitched back together. And I just… I want to be there for him as they figure out how to be a family again. I want to be included in it.” The words were almost too painful to say aloud.
Major nodded, his expression contemplative. He was never quick to give his opinion. He was kind and thorough, and for the thousandth time, I cursed myself for not being able to fall in love with him. He was my dearest friend, and I loved him unimaginably. I would give him any organ that he needed, but my heart could not and would not let go of James Hendrix Cavanaugh.
After all these years, I’d stopped hoping it would.
“Do you think there’s a possibility that he might be open to something with you?”
I hated that question even more because I knew the answer in my bones. I knew with more certainty than I knew my own name. “No.”
“Why?”
Lifting a shoulder, I responded, “It’s a combination of things, though I don’t know if I could explain it.” I bit the inside of my lip, and Major remained quiet, patiently waiting for me to think through my reasons.
Finally, I sighed and told him the truth.
“Based on the way he acted around Walker while we were at Ozzie’s house, I’m pretty sure he’s still in love with the man. He at least loves the thought of him, and more than he’s ever let on.”
“But he told Ozzie?—”
“He lied.”
“Why?”
The answer was so simple it hurt. “Hendrix loves Walker but doesn’t think he’s enough for him. And he loves Ozzie so much that he’d rather Walker be with someone who he considers a better man. Someone who deserves Walker.”
Major cursed under his breath. “That does sound like Hen. I swear, I love his parents, and I’m glad that they’re on friendly terms now?—”
“Maybe more than friendly,” I muttered.
“Really?”
“Sheriff Cavanaugh had his arm wrapped around Portia’s waist the entire visit. And she kept putting her head on his shoulder.”
Major made fists with both hands. “Look, if they’re able to repair their relationship and come back together, that’s great. Fantastic, even,” he said, far too dryly. “But Hen never got over tearing them apart.”
“That wasn’t his fault.”
“I know,” Major snarled. “I’ve always known that. Hendrix, though… remember what he called himself when they got divorced?”
I grimaced. “The destroyer of love.”
“And who would think they could fall in love and make something last while believingthatabout themselves?” he asked, far too reasonably.
I clenched my jaw, hating the harsh buzz behind my nose and eyes, the one that signaled tears. Having emotions this close to the surface was frustrating as hell. I took a few slow breaths, only looking at Major when I knew I could hold it together. “Even if he thought he was worthy of a relationship, it wouldn’t matter. I’m clearly not his type.”
“How could a man who’s never opened himself up to the possibility of a relationship know his type?” Major asked. “He’s pan. He’s on the record, both with us personally and in public, saying that he’s only ever interested in a person’s vibe.”
I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it, not sure I wanted to continue with this conversation. After a moment, Major asked, “Can we talk about the fact that it’s a Saturday morning and you’re dressed like you’re about to go into the office?”
Touching my naked throat, I shook my head. “I always wear a tie to the office.”
Major shook his head. “Between this and the unrequited roommate situation, I’m beginning to wonder if you’re not a masochist. You can’t even relax properly. Hell, I used to make fun of your high-end athleisure wear when you stayed here, but that was better than whatever this is.”
“Nobody says anything when Beckett wears his collar every-fucking-where,” I grumbled.
“That’s because being a preacher, a spiritual leader, is in his bones. Now, I know you’re way more fashionable than me”—Major gestured to his T-shirt and sweatpants, which I thought looked just fine on him—“but even fashionable people relax. What is going on?”
