“Invite him to church and lunch this Sunday. We’re doing the little gender reveal, remember?”
I hum, “Mm-hmm.”
“If he’s anything like Jesse, he won’t care where or what it is. He’ll just be happy to be with you.” Her voice is comforting and sure, but I don’t know if Brantley is like Jesse in that way.
All in all, I already feel better at the idea she suggested and plan to take a few steps back. There’s still one other thing standing in the way of making me feel 100 percent better though.
Wesley.
Chapter 10
Wesley
As I’m closing up the barn, getting ready to head inside and take a shower, my phone goes off. It’s Addison asking me if I’m busy. Maybe she finally wants to talk this stuff out. Because she’s never this hesitant towards me. She usually has no problem showing up and seeing for herself if I’m busy.
Me: “Right now, no. Cole and Chase are coming over later though.”
I wish I didn’t have plans, but I can’t lie to her.
Addie: “Oh okay, that’s fine.”
She sounds off. I know it’s a text, but I can still read her through it. I hate the tension that’s lingering between us so much that I can’t even take it anymore, so I call her.
Herhellois full of confusion and uncertainty.
“What’s going on, Addison?” I keep my voice gentle yet firm.
“I don’t want to crash your party,” she whispers.
I pull my phone away from my mouth to let out a sigh. Something tells me I am not having the guys over tonight and I am mending the tension between us instead. Which isfine. That’s more important to me than seeing my buddies anyway.
“You can crash my party anytime, Addie. You know that,” I say. I wait for her to respond but the line is dead silent. “Come over,” I add.
“Okay.” She lets out a breath. “I am.”
“See ya soon.”
We hang up and I manage to ignore the knots in my stomach while I cancel on the guys. They don’t ask why and I don’t give a reason.
I head inside to shower quickly before she gets here, my mind running through how the evening will go. If she’ll apologize or we’ll get into it even more. I hope we don’t. I can’t go another day being in this friend limbo with her. I have a feeling I’ll be the one who apologizes in the end. I don’t think she’ll see my point. Maybe one day, but I don’t think that day is today.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m back in the barn, sitting in one of the old chairs by the woodstove. It’s too hot to light it, but it’s still the go-to hangout spot.
I hear a four-wheeler pull up outside. My chest feels heavy. I get up and turn the radio down a little.
The side door of the barn opens and in she comes wearing jean shorts, a blue tank top, muck boots, and her hair loosely braided to the side.
Our eyes say hello before our mouths do. She starts towards me. “Where are the guys?”
I shrug. “I told them it wasn’t a good night.”
She looks back to me. “Wesley.” She tilts her head. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“No, it’s good. Figured you and I just needed to talk,” I say, trying to swallow the lump in my throat, but it won’t budge.
She follows me over to the woodstove. I sit back where I was and she sits in her preferred spot—on the left side of the ugly green floral loveseat across from me. The stove is the only thing between us.
She looks down and plays with the end of her braid before she looks to me.
