Prologue
Weston
Adeep ache settles in my chest as I drive. Probably because it’ll be my last drive with her, and she doesn’t even know it yet. Still, I’m the type of man who, once I’ve made up my mind, sticks to it.
I quickly glance in her direction and am struck by the sight of her hair tumbling around as she looks out the open window, my stomach turning sour. I love her hair, I always have. It was the first thing about her I noticed when we were little. Back then, it was innocent. I just thought it was pretty. Now, I can’t help but notice how her hair is the perfect shade of brown, bringing out her green eyes. Since it’s the end of summer, her tan olive skin makes them even more striking, accentuating the unique hues I could get lost in for hours.
“I’m going to miss this. I already can’t wait for Thanksgiving. Maybe I’ll be able to find a way to come home sooner, too,” she says, breaking me from my thoughts.
Clearing the emotion that has me in a choke hold, I cough a little before replying, “That’d be nice.”
Even to me, it sounds cold. I keep my eyes on the road, because if I look at her and the pinched expressions she’s probably got on her face from my tone, I might crack. This is for the best. Maybe it’ll even be the best thing for both of us.
I hear her seatbelt unclick and feel her scoot into the middle seat of my truck, her hand finding my thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze, andthen she rebuckles herself. She knows me better than I know myself, I’d wager, so she knows something is up.
“You okay?” Her voice comes out soft. Everything about her is soft. Her heart, the way she looks at life, her skin.
“Yeah, just thinking about all the stuff I have to get done tomorrow is all.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but she doesn’t push it. She just lays her head on my shoulder, and I squeeze my eyes shut for half a second. Memorizing the way she feels against me.
It’s both too soon and not soon enough when we pull up to her house. The flowers I helped her plant brighten up the front lawn. The grass is cut short. I wonder if her grandpa will still want me to mow it after I go through with this.
She lives here with her Grandpa, but I know for a fact he won’t be home right now because he’s working on my parents’ ranch. He’s our farrier, that’s how I came to know the girl beside me. She was eight when she moved to Windy Peaks. She came over to play, but ended up spending more time with my mom. One day, when I was thirteen, she came over, and I’m not sure what, but something about her had changed. She didn’t look like the girl I chased around the ranch with worms or rode bikes with. She was beautiful, and once I realized that, there was no going back. She went from my best friend to my girlfriend when we were fourteen. I’ve spent the last four years loving her. There’s a piece of me that will love her forever. How could I not? But it’s time to grow up and do the right thing. Even if it sucks, and it feels like my heart is going to fall out of my ass.
I pull the key from my ignition and throw it on the dash, knowing I don’t plan on sticking around long.
Swinging my door open, I hop out of the truck, Willow quick on my heels.
I take a deep breath to center myself. Fuck, I do not want to do this, but I have to. Even if it kills me.
“Hey, so you know I’m really happy for you, right?” I say as we walk to her front door, going up the few steps to the porch.
“Yes, I think you’ve told me a million times how proud of me you are. But it doesn’t hurt to hear it again,” she replies, amusement in her tone.
I finally brave looking at her face, and I swear I can feel my heart fracture. She looks so happy, carefree, and I’m going to ruin that.
“Well, I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I think it would be better if we maybe start college off as just friends. You know, with you being in New York and me staying here, I just don’t see how it’s going to work,” I rush out, barely recognizing my own voice.
The smile that was on her face drops, and she steps back as if I slapped her. Her brows pull together as she starts shaking her head. “What are you talking about? It’s not like I’ll be in New York forever. I’ve already done a year of college classes; it’s only a couple of years. You were fine with it when I agreed to go.” Her voice cracks at the end, and I fight to keep my resolve and stay as formal as possible, because if she hates me, she will let this go. She may be soft, but this girl can hold a grudge like no one's business, and I was counting on that for my plan.
“Yeah, well, things change. I’m going to be busy working on the ranch, and my dad is forcing me to take a few college classes. We’re both going to be too busy to make long-distance work,” I lie, schooling my features into stone so she can’t see that this is killing me, too.
She scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. “What the hell is going on, West? This summer… This summer was everything,” she says as a large tear falls, her lip trembling. “I don’t even know you right now,” she whispers.
“I know. I should have talked to you weeks ago, but I figured we could have one last summer together.” That part is true; it was selfish of me, but I needed every second with her before I set her free.
She drops her arms as her hands ball into fists at her side. “You don’t even want to try?” she asks in disbelief.
“This was inevitable. You and I both know this would have happened at some point. I just didn’t want to drag it out.” I shrug and kick my foot against the wooden plank to get some of this energy out.
Her eyes widen as her jaw drops. “You didn’t want to drag it out.” She shakes her head and looks down. When she looks back up, she takes a deep breath and studies me, and for a second, I worry that she will see through my facade, but she doesn’t. She bites her lip as tears stream down her face.
“You know,” she says, “I was dreading leaving. Dreading being so far away, but now I cannot wait to be on the other side of the country from you.”
My hand subconsciously rubs the ache in my chest, but there is nothing that is going to make this stop. “I will always be there for you. If you need a friend or anything, you just have to call.” There's nothing but truth there, because I would go to the ends of the earth to make sure she has what she needs.
“You can’t pick and choose what parts of me you want, so no. I won’t be calling. You might want to be myfriend, but I don’t want to be yours. This is the last time you will ever see me. I have no clue what the fuck is happening with you right now. Maybe there is someone else, maybe you want to experiment and screw someone else, I don’t know. But when you pull your head out of your ass and realize thatthis was a mistake, don’t call me.” She points her finger at me before shaking her head one last time, turning on her heel, and walking in through the front door. I watch every step she takes, knowing this might be the last time I see her and needing to soak it in. When I hear the slam, I have to force down the sob that tries to claw its way out. I have to get out of eye sight before she sees me break.
Hopping in my truck, I put my hands on the steering wheel. My eyes catch on the bracelet she made me when we were thirteen. It was right when I realized I didn’t want to be just her friend anymore, I wanted more. I didn’t know how to flirt because at thirteen I barely knew my head from my ass, but I complimented her bracelet, and the next time she came over, she had made me one. It has all my favorite colors threaded together, and I can’t look at it without thinking about how it’s the first thing she gave me, the first step toward becoming something more.
