Then I grab the phone and tap the screen to read the message.
It’s from Ronan.
Hey. Are you up?
As I’m reading his text, another one appears.
I was a jerk today. And I’m sorry.
CHAPTER 11
RONAN
With every second thatpasses without Angel answering my text, I feel even worse.
Why did I give her a story about not feeling well?
Why didn’t I just ask her about Garrett instead of jumping to conclusions?
I should have gone over to Angel’s house, like she asked me to. We could have talked. Maybe she would have reassured me that nothing was going on with Garrett, and I would have realized my worries were only in my head.
Or maybe she would have admitted she had feelings for him.
My gut clenches at the thought, just as it has every other time I’ve considered it. My fingers tighten around the mostly-full can of beer I’ve been nursing for the last hour.
I never used to be an insecure guy. In most circumstances, I’m still not. On the slopes and working cases for GMG, I’m always confident in my skills. When I’m talking to women in town, I never give a second thought to what they think about me.
But as soon as the idea of Angel and Garrett took root, I couldn’t get rid of it.
Garrett would be a better match for Angel,I reasoned. He has a daughter Haley’s age. He knows all about raising kids. He’s wealthy. Successful. He has a brand-new house in town, which I know is nice because Knox’s company helped build it. And he’s a good guy, which I hate to admit, but he is.
Back home, while I stood in the backyard, halfheartedly waving the laser pointer around for Murphy, I kept stewing about it.
I kept seeing stupid Garrett Ryan hugging Angel. Touching her. Smiling at her.
MyAngel.
Then I wondered if she’d turned to Garrett because I wasn’t giving her enough. BecauseIwasn’t enough.
That’s what Gwen said, after all. That I couldn’t give her what she needed. That I wasn’t enough.
What if Angel feels the same?I asked myself.What if, now that she’s gotten to know me, she’s found me lacking?
What if she wants someone younger? Smarter? Richer? Someone established? Someone who isn’t afraid of commitment and comes right out and tells Angel what he wants?
But as the hours dragged on, jealousy and self-doubt made way for regret.
Every time I’d close my eyes, I’d see Angel’s disappointed face—in the park when I told her I couldn’t come over after all, by the food trucks when she tried to touch me and I shifted away, at her doorstep when I knew damn well she was waiting for me to kiss her, and I didn’t—and feel shittier and shittier about it.
By eight-thirty, I’d almost called Angel at least half-a-dozen times. But something kept stopping me.
It was fear.
What if she tells me it’s over? What if I discover I was right about Garrett Ryan, and now I’m going to have to see Angel with him? What if I have to see the four of them around town—this perfect little family—and once again, I’m left with nothing?
So when Max texted asking for company, it seemed like a good solution. Get out of the house for a while, hopefully away from my twisted-up thoughts, get some much-needed perspective, and tomorrow I would talk to Angel about everything.
Itseemedlike a good solution. Except it hasn’t been.
