And even now, even like this . . . I still loved her. It was the clearest part of my vision in the chaos.
The ranch house was quiet, but it was only a matter of time before someone would come back in and I’d have to snap out of it, act like I was coping. Gulping air, bracing myself against the bed with my good arm, I made a list of the shit I needed to do before leaving for the rodeo. I’d get up, get some cold water on my face and then pick something to –
My phone rang and I whipped round to grab it . . . then realized it wasn’t her. I stared at the screen, crushed under an ache so fucking heavy that I had to take a few seconds before I could trust my voice.
‘Yeah?’ I said, tapping the button, listening as my brother-in-law launched into a sales pitch. He was making way too much effort to get me to agree to go to the rodeo a couple of days early with him and his buddies.
‘Dean,’ I sighed, trying so damn hard to sound as though I wasn’t something to worry about, to confirm his thoughts that Clara was overreacting about my mental state. ‘I’ll go to the rodeo early, quit it already. Want me to go to the grocery store and pick up some stuff to take with us?’
He laughed, undeniable relief winding through the sound.
‘I knew it, man. I told your sister it’d take more than some random British chick to take you down and out. Don’t forget the beers, okay? It’s time we put shit right over a few cold ones.’
The call ended soon after, silence returning.
Some random British chick. I ran my fingers through my hair, wincing. How could something, someone as precious as Hestia just be . . .dismissedin that way? Like she didn’t have the power to fucking shred me inside.
But I knew it wasn’t Dean’s fault, or any of them. I’d built the wall they saw and worked hard to maintain it. The fact that there was a fucking huge hole in the middle of it was for me alone to know.
There would be plenty of time to pack in the next couple of days, but the moment I heard Lottie and Bailey downstairs, it felt like the perfect time to get to the grocery store. I knew I was hiding, knew that they’d know that too; but right now, it was all I had.
‘Jesse?’
Fuck.
‘Yeah?’ I replied, turning to see the familiar concern in every angle of Lottie’s face, mirrored in Bailey’s behind her.
‘We’re going down to Shelby’s later. There’s a band that Cole was saying . . . Jesse?’
I turned away, unable to hold my gaze on her, hear the accent, without thinking of Hestia and seeing her in my mind. The last thing I wanted to do was make Lottie feel bad, but I had to leave.
‘Nah, you go on ahead, I’m gonna sit it out,’ I murmured, giving them both a small nod as I opened the front door, a rush of warm, grass-sweetened air washing over us.
‘How long you gonna keep sitting out?’ Bailey asked, stepping forward, one hand on her hip, a calculated expression forming. ‘It’s not gonna help or bring her back.’
Mouth half open to respond, I started walking as the words landed.
‘I’ll sit it out until I give a fuck about music, or nights in a bar, or anything else again,’ I replied, taking the porch steps two at a time.
‘Jesse, she didn’t mean to—’ Lottie began as Bailey cut her off.
‘The hell I didn’t! Jesse Bennington, get your mopey ass over to that bar later. You might not give a fuck, but we do. Don’t make me drag you in there!’
I almost smiled, keeping my head down as I half turned back, flipping her off. She chuckled.
‘That’s settled, then. Eight p.m., cowboy.’
Bailey was many things, but easy-going and forgiving were not two of them.
That was why, just after eight, I forced myself to keep my word and ended up in among a whole bunch of them. With Bailey on one side and Jace on the other, swept up in the rodeo talk and holding a beer in my hand, it almost felt normal, until . . . Lottie and Cole. The way they moved around each other, like he was her gravity and she his, eyes constantly meeting, hands touching or wandering across each other’s bodies.
It was painful to watch, to feel.
Knocking back the rest of my beer, I gestured with my empty bottle to the rest of them and the bar in the background beyond, taking a couple of orders from those running low. Finding a space between the seated regulars and the groups of out-of-towners, I placed my order, glad for the relief of stepping away from everyone I knew.
‘Wait, let me guess,’ a voice to my right sounded.
I stifled my frustration, desperate to be left alone.
