Something in my expression or the tone of my voice must have penetrated because Philippa blinked eyes as big as dinner plates and dropped her hands from my body. But it was too late. By the time I’d wound my way through the throng writhing to some hip-hop beat in the living room, Piper was gone.
Chapter Thirty
Piper
When I finishedup early with my research paper, I decided to surprise Wyatt at his friends’ party. Since I’d be headed to Denver early the next morning for my internship, and we wouldn’t see each other for the next ten days, I wanted to spend at least a couple of hours with him.
Then I walked in on him with Pippa, and my whole world crashed and burned on the spot.
Déjà vu would have been easy because in the end, I’d realized Charlie was more of a habit than a boyfriend. But this with Wyatt? No doubt I left a blood trail right through Jeremiah Fitzgerald’s house as my heart bled out as I raced for the door.
I had no idea how I’d managed to drive to my apartment with all the stop lights and lights of oncoming traffic swimming in my eyes. Yet somehow I stood outside my apartment door, my key shaking in my hand as I let myself inside. With the exception of my toiletries, I’d already packed my bags for my dark-thirty departure. They were waiting beside the front door. Tossing my toiletries together, I shoved them in my carry-on and headed back out to my car.
Wyatt had said he’d drive me to the airport and pick me up when I returned home, but after what I saw, that was the last thing I wanted. I’d rather wait all night in a deserted airport than be at home when he showed up to gaslight me, tell me I hadn’t seen what I’d so clearly seen. Gaslighting had been Charlie’s MO too.
After I gave the gate agent a little song and dance about how important it was for me not to miss my flight, she let me through to security. Once I was inside I found a quiet spot, lay across a couple of chairs, and let the tears flow. No matter how many times I tried to block it out, the picture of Pippa in Wyatt’s arms played on a loop in my head. How could the little sister I’d taken care of all her life steal away the only man I knew I’d ever love? How could that man cheat on me after everything we’d shared? What was wrong with me that I attracted men who couldn’t be true?
When the loudspeaker announcing my flight woke me from a fitful sleep, I didn’t even try to fix myself up. Wearily, I boarded the plane for an internship I no longer wanted to pursue. After all, I’d set it up with an idea for creating a gallery, a place to showcase Wyatt’s work. While I knew he wanted to work in graphic design, I also saw the work he created for himself. Whether he believed it or not, he was a brilliant artist whose paintings could grace the most prestigious art museums in the world. I’d had this wild idea I could help him realize a dream I wasn’t even sure he had.
None of that mattered now.
After I found my seat, I pulled my phone from my purse to put it on airplane mode and saw that I had about fifty texts—mostly from Wyatt, but a few from Pippa too. I didn’t need a repeat of excuses. With two commands, I deleted them all and powered down my phone.
When I touched down in Denver, I went straight to my hotel. On autopilot, I showered and dressed for success. It was only after my mentor handed me a coffee that I remembered I hadn’t eaten since sometime yesterday afternoon. The only reason I could think of for how I didn’t completely implode the opportunity in front of me was my innate competitiveness. It was something I shared with my parents—and Wyatt.
For the next eight days, I kept my phone on Do Not Disturb, only allowing my mentor’s texts through. Some might have seen my choice as cowardly, but I couldn’t face the mess that was my life on campus from two states away. I couldn’t face the mess that was my life, period.
Of course, I had no choice at night when dreams of Wyatt flickered through my mind. Always I saw the beautiful things: the way his eyes lit up whenever he saw me: the way he acted the gentleman with opening doors and carrying the heavy bags and watching out for me. My mind’s eye focused on how he’d moved over me, his playfulness and willingness to try new things sexually. Nothing about our physical relationship was vanilla—a fact that left me wet when I awoke in the middle of the night. The glorious Valentine’s night under the heart lights in his bed. His gorgeous art decorating his room. The drawing of me that I’d convinced myself he’d made with love.
But each morning I awoke with the picture of Pippa wrapped in his arms in Fitz’s kitchen, and I ran into the hotel bathroom to dry-heave to start the day.
The great thing about expensive makeup was that it covered absolutely everything. Between my full makeup kit and the pots of coffee available at the museum, I managed to present a professional front that fooled people who didn’t know me. By the end of the week, I had a massive contact list and an offer to return to work in the summer. Without the incentive of helping Wyatt build his portfolio and his opportunities, I doubted I’d take the museum up on the offer, but at least one thing in my life hadn’t completely blown up in my face.
It was drizzling when I landed back home, a cold spring rain in the mountains. The weather matched my mood: gray and cold. As I dragged my carry-on behind me across the parking lot to my car, I kept my head down to keep the rain out of my eyes. It was the only way I missed seeing him in time to prepare.
“About time you got home.”
My head snapped up as Wyatt’s deep voice penetrated my thoughts. He leaned against the driver’s door of my car, his hair dripping down the back of his jacket. Even scowling, wet, and bedraggled, he was the most heartbreakingly beautiful sight I’d ever seen.
Then another picture flashed in my mind, one of my sister wrapped in his arms. Good thing the rain hid the tears that leaked out when I remembered the last time I saw him.
“As you can see, I have a ride home.” Though I tried to sound tough, I nearly choked on the words.
“Yeah, well, I don’t. Guess you’re it,” he growled as he pushed himself away from my car to grab my bag.
“Wyatt, what are you doing?”
“Helping you load up. It’s raining, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Please.”
I had no idea what I was begging for. Then he straightened up, and his jacket parted, letting me see some of his T-shirt. Wyatt and his goofy T-shirts... Except—
“Wait. What’s that on your shirt?”
He didn’t let go of my bag as he pulled his jacket wider. Across his chest I read “Cheaters. If they can do it with ya, they can do it to ya.” As he raised a sardonic brow, we stared at each other through the intensifying rain.
“I wasn’t with your sister that night—or any other night. I’ve seen her exactly twice. Once when you introduced us, and once when she ambushed me at a party I didn’t even want to attend. You’re the one who said I should go.” He jerked open the driver’s door and shoved my carry-on into the back seat. Then he held his hand out for my keys.
