Page 102 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

Rubbing the scars beneath her shirt, she picked up her cell. Callie was afraid to call, afraid of what she might say, so she typed in the phone number he’d listed in the letter and texted him.

Tristan. It’s Callie. Do you still want to meet somewhere in Boise?

She got up from the couch and paced, back and forth across her living room until her phone beeped.

Callie. Yes, are you available tomorrow? Noon at the Cheesecake Factory?

She had to be at the station then but didn’t want to wait, didn’t want to play the back-and-forth. She could call in sick to work for one day.

That’s fine.

Beep.

I’m so glad you texted. Here’s the address.

Callie stared at the text, at his excitement. Like they were just old friends meeting up to talk about old times.

Rationality went out the window as she reared back and threw her phone against the wall.

THAT AFTERNOON, EVERETT was sitting on his couch, cursing his impulsiveness and impatience when someone knocked on the door. He ignored the sound, willing whoever it was to take the fucking hint that he wanted to be alone.

No such luck.

Everett’s door opened behind him, and he didn’t bother turning around. He knew from the heavy footsteps that it was Justin. “What do you want?”

Everett heard his fridge open and the pfft of a beer being opened.

“Hey, those beers aren’t for little pricks,” Everett said.

“Come on, dude, I’m sorry.” Justin sat down on the couch next to him. “I just don’t want you to make a mistake. You’ve been through the ringer, and I just think you should find someone who isn’t loaded down by baggage.”

“You don’t get it.” Everett took a long draw of his drink and put his second glass of Jack on the coffee table.

“Then explain it, Everett, because I don’t understand why you would fall for someone like that after everything Dad put us through.”

“Because I love her, that’s why. Because when I met her, there was this instant connection, this pull that told me this was it. She gets me, man. Why can’t you understand that?” Everett laughed bitterly, rubbing his hands over his face. “When I came back here, you and Dad kept telling me that I was a hero. That I was something special because of all I’ve been through, but that didn’t make me feel better, Justin. It made me feel weak. Like I was a freak everyone was staring at. I was angry all the time, and then I was making stupid jokes just to break the ice. And women? Forget about the women; they were clueless.

“But Callie doesn’t even see my scars. She sees me. And she makes me feel like a man, the man I used to be. Don’t you want that for me? Don’t you want me to have what you have?”

“Of course, Rhett,” Justin said, his expression pained.

“Then apologize to Callie. Give her a real chance and get to know her. Val, too. Did you know her mom was an alcoholic, as bad or worse than Dad? I flew off the handle when I first found out about her alcoholism, but she put me in my place really quick and in the same breath, told me she understood where I was coming from. She is an enigma, man.”

“What if she still thinks I’m a dick?”

“Then we can look forward to more awkward family dinners, I guess. That is, if it all works out.”

“Is that why you’re nursing a bottle of whiskey? Did you two have a fight? About us?”

Everett poured another and shook his head. “I told her I needed to know more about her, and I think I pushed her too hard.”

Justin patted Everett’s back. “She’ll come around. I saw the way she looked at you. She loves you too.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

THE NEXT MORNING, someone started banging on Everett’s door just as he finished with a caller and his pounding head protested the racket. It had been hard enough to get his ass out of bed this morning and take calls.

Taking off his headset, he got up to answer it, grumbling. Did they have to bang so hard?