Page 44 of Smitty

A lot like the one she had now.

She wanted kids. She made that clear from the start, and I was all for it. I wanted it all. Her. The house. The kids. The ordinary little life I’d never thought I could have.

The last time we’d gone out to our spot, it was turning cooler. The leaves were changing, and there was a breeze coming off the lake. We sat on the tailgate, listening to the water along the bank, and she told me she loved me. I told her I loved her back.

We didn’t say it like a couple of crazy teenagers who had no idea what they were talking about. We said it like it meant something, and it did. Hell, it meant everything. We'd made love beneath the stars that night, wrapped up in a faded quilt, believing we had all the time in the world.

Neither of us knew it would be the last.

Looking back, it was almost comical. The place where we had become one would now be the place where we would untangle everything we’d lost. Or try to. I finished off my beer and opened another.

I should’ve been furious. And part of me was, but not just at her. I was angry with myself, too. More than I truly wanted to admit. It wasn’t all up to her. I could’ve let go of my wounded ego and fought for her.

I didn’t.

That was a regret. It wasn’t the only one. I had plenty of them, my biggest being the fact that I’d let my head get in the way. I let Brooke think there was someone else. I thought it would be the push she needed to finally cut the cord and move on. It worked better than I expected.

After that, I didn’t hear from her again, confirming that she’d seen us.

It pissed me off that it was that easy.

But beneath all the anger and the regret was something else entirely. It was a feeling I hadn’t had in longer than I could remember.

It was hope.

I might never get Brooke back, but tomorrow, I would finally get answers. And maybe, just maybe, we hadn’t actually come to the end of our story. Maybe there was more. Only time would tell.

I heard footsteps creep across the gravel and glanced over my shoulder to find Stacey walking toward me, looking like she’d just come back from the gym. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and she was wearing biker shorts and a tank top. “Hey. You okay?”

“Making it.”

“You want some company?”

“Appreciate the offer.” I took a drink of my beer. “But I’m good.”

She studied me for a second before giving me a knowing look. “Got a woman on your mind?”

“What?”

“That look on your face.” She shrugged. “Only a woman can give a man that kind of look.”

“If you say so.”

“Hope she knows she’s got one of the good ones.”

Without saying anything more, she turned and headed back toward the clubhouse. I sat there long after she'd disappeared inside. The beer in my hand had gone warm, and most of the guys had called it a night. I decided it was time I did the same, so I gathered my empty bottles and made my way back inside.

It was after dawn before I finally gave in to my exhaustion and actually slept. It was after ten before I finally rolled over and checked my phone. I sat up and rubbed my hand down my face as I yawned and stretched, trying to wake myself up. Eventually, I got up and dragged my tired ass to the bathroom.

I took a hot shower, and it helped clear some of the fog from my head. But, sadly, it didn’t do much for the knot in my stomach. I got dressed and headed to the kitchen for some coffee.

Goose, Memphis, Creed, and Drifter were gathered at the kitchen table, talking, but I had no idea about what. I had a feeling it wasn’t good. It was Sunday morning. These were days the guys usually spent at home with their ol’ ladies. The fact that they were here wasn’t a good sign.

I was still feeling my way around the change from prospect to brother. I’d earned my place at that table. I knew that, and they knew it, too. But I had the feeling that today wasn’t the day to press, so I kept quiet as I walked over and poured myself a cup of coffee. I took a quick sip, then turned to them and said, “Morning.”

Nobody answered right away, and that just seemed to add to the tension in the room. Eventually, Drifter glanced up at me and said, “Stone was hit last night.”

“Jesus… Is he okay?”