“You’ve never been in love. And the thought of even coming close to it scares you.”
Fuck. “It was only a weekend.”
“A weekend unlike any you’ve ever had with a woman before, am I right?”
“Damn straight.”
Waylon’s jaw visibly tightened. “I’ve been there. When it hits,” he grinned ruefully and shook his head slowly, “nothing else like it. Youknowit’s right, even if it’s irrational. Even if it’s…” He looked away, but not before Elias caught the bitterlook in his eyes. Waylon didn’t have to finish his sentence for his brother to know.
Even if it’s doomed to end.
Waylon shook it off and snapped right back to his carefree self. “I don’t think it’s your pride for once, is it?”
Elias shook his head. But he still had too much pride to admit out loud Waylon was right—he was scared. Scared of fucking up. Scared of not being enough and hurting Wren, who in his eyes, was the perfect woman.
“Maybe she’s scared, too,” Waylon suggested, his voice softening. “Hell, maybe she’s got her own shit to work through. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about you. Man, I could see it. We all could.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Waylon was right. He’d let his fears color his perceptions, filter them through a lens of self-doubt. What if Wren was feeling the same way? What if she was just as scared as he was? Maybe when she left early the first night, it was out of her own insecurity, not to tease him. But what would someone as perfect as her have to be insecure about?
Waylon clapped a hand on his shoulder, breaking Elias out of his thoughts. “So stop acting like the damned Cowardly Lion, brother. You’ve never backed down from a challenge before, so don’t start now. Go after her. Hang onto her with both hands, and don’t let go until you’ve got the answers you need.”
A surge of determination flooded through Elias, washing away the uncertainty and doubt. Waylon was right. He needed to see Wren again, to talk to her, to figure out what the hell had gone wrong.
“As much as it pains me to ever admit this, you’re right. Abso-fucking-lutely right. Thanks, Ram,” Elias said, his voice steadier now, conviction replacing the earlier doubts.
“Anytime, brother.” Waylon gave him a knowing grin. “Besides, thosewereyour jeans she had on, weren’t they?”
Elias chuckled. “Yeah, they were.”
“So you gotta get ’em back, right? Though, gotta say, her ass was way better-looking in them than yours.”
“Stop looking at my woman’s ass.”
“Therehe is.” Waylon punched Elias’ arm.
Elias laughed and shoved Ram like they were kids again. Brothers who always had each other’s backs, and always would.
“So call her, man. Right now before April shuts Tim down for the billionth time and sends him out the door with our coffees.”
Elias took out his phone, called her, and put the phone to his ear, while plugging the opposite one. He turned away from Waylon for privacy, but his brother was already getting into the back of the ambo.
The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Then of course it went to voicemail.
“Hello! Thanks for calling Wren Stapleton Photography. I’m busy on a shoot right now but if you’ll leave your name and number I’ll get right back to you. Have a picture-perfect day!”
Elias grinned at her corny pun.
“Hey, it’s Elias.” He turned and glanced up at the entrance to Riversong. “I just want to say, I really love…”
Our weekend together. The way your eyes light up when I make you come. How you put up with my dogs. Your goofy sense of humor. How you look at me like I mean something. You.
“…that pair of jeans you swiped from me.”
The part of him that knew he was no better than a wingman prompted him:But what I love more is the way your ass looked in them. See you at Cocks and Strippers sometime maybe.
“But what I love more is…”
