Page 69
Story: Perfect Cowboy
“Whether they want you there or not, youarehere. And you have to eat, right?”
She shakes her head. “Thanks anyway. I bought tons of food, so I’ll just make something for myself. I also need to keep sourcing work.”
I start to say something, anything that will make her smile again. But she just gives me a quick hug and closes the front door, leaving me standing on the porch alone.
Chapter 18
Ashley
Whensomeoneknocksonthe door of my borrowed cottage hours later, I can’t imagine who it could be.
Surely, Gavin would just walk in and there’s no one else who wants to see me.
While it sucks that we’re going to be sleeping separately, he deserves to protect his peace. And if he needs space from me right now so he can think, then that’s what he’ll get.
I set the laptop down and head to the door, glancing through the peephole and finding a pile of red hair.
Victory.
It must be her.
And when she turns to face the door, it’s confirmed.
Jesus.
We used to be friends before everything went down, and I just assumed that she was on the opposite side of the battlefield from me now.
And maybe she is. She could be here to scream at me and defend her friend.
Rather than run and hide like I want to do, I open the door and try a smile, not sure if she’s here as a friend or foe.
“Hey, Ashley. Can I come in? It’s freezing.”
“Of course.”
I step back to let her inside the cottage where the fire is roaring – thanks to Gavin’s employee who brought my stuff over – and classic jazz is playing softly.
It’s comfortable and homey, and part of me wishes that I could stay here forever. It’s a perfect hideaway, but the real world outside of these doors is not friendly.
“I’m not big on elephants being left to roam free in the room,” Victory says, pulling off her puffy winter coat and yanking off her wool hat and matching mitts, setting them on a chair. “So, I’m here to kick it out.”
Now my smile is genuine. There is no one quite like Victory, and I’ve missed her. I had a good group of friends in Montana and an incredible boyfriend, but I was just a kid.
A kid with a dying brother and a father who was heading to prison.
“I’m glad you came,” I return, meaning it. “Can I get you anything?”
But she’s already walking over to the fridge and rooting through it, pulling out two bottles of sparkling water. She puts one in my hand and then sits on the couch in front of the fire with her legs tucked underneath her.
With nothing left to do, I join her, hoping that I might have another friend while I’m here.
“Look, what you did was shitty,” Victory says, “and I don’t mean the Ponzi scheme. You didn’t do that and shouldn’t be blamed. What I mean is leaving without a trace. You hurt one of my best friends. Really badly. You also hurt me and all our other friends by acting like we didn’t matter. Fleeing looked like guilt, and it just made everything worse.”
“I had no choice,” I reply. “I needed to go stay in Chicago with my aunt. Brady was still a minor, and I didn’t want to be separated from him.”
“I get it,” she replies, “but you could have talked to Gavin. Talked to me. We aren’t unreasonable people and would have supported you. However, I don’t believe in crucifying someone over the past. Well, notanymore. You can ask Cade how I felt about it previously.”
Gavin shared a condensed version of Victory and Cade’s rekindled love story, and I’d love to get the full, more romantic version from her one day.
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