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“Lena hired a hacker who found out who you were. I paid a lot of fucking money to him to feed her a lie and to keep your identitya secret. Then I paid for your site to become more secure than the goddamn Pentagon. Why do you think people believe LadyLux is a divorced late-forties socialite? Just because?”
“You started that rumor?” She glares at me, but I can see concern wrapped tightly around her. “Why would you do that?”
“To protect you,” I state.
“Why are you telling me this?” The carefree girl who was just with me is now gone. Her face hardens.
“Because it matters. We both know this is more than just friendship. There is more I have to share with you. And I’m fully aware you might not like what you hear and might never want to speak to me again. But if I don’t tell you the truth, it would make me a piece of shit. I respect you too much to keep this from you,” I admit. “The truth setsusfree. I want to be free, Carlee. With you. No more secrets.”
“What if I don’t care?” she asks, worry etched across her face. “I don’t want to think of you any differently than I do right now.”
“We can’t move forward without us discussing this. Please,” I whisper, not wanting her to fully push me away. I can already see her rebuilding that fortress around her heart.
“I don’t like this,” she says, her voice cracking. “It feels very much like you’re breaking this off.”
I catch a glimpse of the woman I fell in love with, the one who doesn’t have walls built from earth to heaven.
“I’m not breaking this off.” I shake my head. “But I’m so fucking scared you might.”
29
CARLEE
My mind is spinning.
My thoughts are out of control.
I might crash. This seems too serious for my liking.
I wish I could predict the words that will come out of Weston’s mouth, but he’s unreadable, and he’s completely blocked me out of his emotions. If he told me he was really Easton, I’d believe it.
“Is this something that can wait?” I finally ask, wanting to enjoy the sunshine, the sound of the trickling creek, and the cool February breeze as the wind travels through the brown grass. “We don’t have to ruin today. We’re supposed to be celebrating.”
“This conversation is unavoidable, gorgeous.” His thumb brushes across my bottom lip, a featherlight touch that sends goose bumps racing over my skin.
“You told me things don’t have to be so serious,” I remind him.
“Yeah, but this can’t wait any longer. If I don’t tell you, Easton will. He’s already threatened me and said you deserved to know.”
“I don’t like the look on your face,” I whisper.
I’m so scared this protective bubble we’ve been living in is about to burst. I don’t want everything around us to crumble. Isthis proof that when things are too good to be true, they usually are? I push away those thoughts.
“I’ll be right back.”
His brow lifts in question as I walk over to the saddlebag. I shove my hand deep inside the pocket, fumbling until I find the familiar bottle of Fireball. It’s something Hudson always keeps stashed in his pack. The seal has been broken, but it’s full. I take several big gulps. The cinnamon burns going down, a sensation I welcome. It tastes shittier than I remember.
I return to Weston’s side, resting my head on his stomach. “I just want to watch the clouds a little while longer.”
“Is day drinking a good idea?” he asks, a hint of concern in his voice.
“This is doomsday prepping. And if you’re concerned, I can ride a little tipsy,” I admit, forcing a laugh to keep my tone light as I meet his eyes. “Want some?”
Weston props himself up on his elbow and takes several large gulps.
“You’re lost in your thoughts.” He passes the cinnamon liquor back to me.
We take turns, the bottle gleaming in the sunlight like a promise or maybe a warning. It goes down fast and steady. This strangely feels like a goodbye.