Rosie. Why does that name sound so familiar…
Oh my God.
The canoe girl.
It takes some effort to keep my jaw closed. This is the girl who was so devastated when Wyatt moved on to his next hookup that she showed up in the middle of the night in a canoe, crying her eyes out and screaming for him to come down to the dock and talk to her. I wasn’t present for the theatrics, but Beau was, and he swears it happened. And then right after that, her family sold their house, though I still maintain that part is a coincidence.
The brunette approaches us with a nervous laugh, the sound pitched just a tad too high. “It’s so weird running into you. I wasjustthinking about you the other day.”
“Yeah?” His tone suggests he doesn’t need any more details than that.
But Rosie keeps talking. “Yeah. I’m in town visiting Harriet, and we were talking about the night we all went cliff jumping on the island. Do you remember that?”
He nods absently. “Fun times.”
Her smile wavers for a second. “So fun.”
Wyatt’s not even looking at her as he finishes loading the groceries,and I feel a pang of sympathy for the woman.
“How’ve you been?” Rosie pushes.
“Good. You?”
“Great. Busy. But not too busy for, um, you know, seeing friends or whatever.” She stops, regrouping. “You know, if you wanted to hang out while I’m in town.”
Oh God. This is mortifying. It’s like watching a slow-motion train wreck. I edge toward the side of the Jeep, wishing I could melt into the pavement.
“Glad you’re doing well” is Wyatt’s response. He might as well have picked up a crossbow and shot an arrow into her heart.
Getting the message, Rosie flattens her lips and steps away. She flicks a frown in my direction, then stalks off, her sandals striking the asphalt with each quick step.
I wait until we’re inside the Jeep before glaring at him. “Did you have to be so cold?”
“Not cold,” he corrects. “Polite.”
“Dude, that was cold. She was crushed. Was that the same Rosie who…you know…the canoe crier?”
“Yup.” He starts the engine. “Trust me, I learned the hard way what happens when you encourage her. Even a friendly smile has her envisioning weddings and babies. So…boundaries.”
I suppose that makes sense, but I still feel awful for the girl. That rejectionsucked.
And I can’t help putting myself in Rosie’s shoes, imagining what would’ve happened if I’d hooked up with Wyatt on Christmas Eve, only to have him look right through me the next day. The way he just looked at her.
I honestly don’t know if I would’ve survived that.
So maybe it’s better that I’ve never experienced…whatever it isthat Wyatt gives these women. This magic dick he speaks of like it’s a curse.
Maybe it’s better if I never open that door.
Chapter 11
WYATT
IT’S ANOTHER GORGEOUS AFTERNOON. I sit on the dock, my phone resting on my shoulder as I listen to my manager drone on and on about a producer who’s supposedly desperate to get into the studio with me.
“Matt,” I interrupt, “I get you’re trying to sell me on him, but I checked out his stuff, and his style is completely different from mine. He works with boy bands.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you need to pivot.”
