Page 34 of Sunny Skies Ahead (Watford Sweethearts #2)

Chapter twenty-four

Imogen

I woke up the next morning in the guest room of Abbie’s condo. The morning light filtered in through the blinds. I sat up in bed, rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and stared at the phone on my nightstand. Someone had plugged it in for me.

Kam

I am so sorry Imogen.

Please call me when you wake up.

Well, it could have been worse. At least he didn’t have a laundry list of excuses why he’d broken his pacifist ways and punched Jacob Kilpatrick in the face.

Even if the bastard deserved it.

I groaned, flopping back against the pillow.

I was the worst kind of hypocrite.

I used to have dreams about enacting all manner of revenge plots on Jacob. Everything from turning his ass in to the Marine Corps—I never took pictures of the abuse, so they would have sided with him anyway—to telling his mother, who had always hated me for taking her son away from her.

Needless to say, none of those plots ever panned out.

Kameron had the opportunity to do what I wish I’d gotten to do.

Kevvy Kev

I just heard about what happened at the Roadhouse. I’m here if you need me.

I groaned again. At least there was no mention of Kameron. But then another, far more alarming thought flashed through my mind.

If Kevin—who was not in attendance last night—had heard about what happened, the entire town of Watford no doubt had too. Word traveled fast, and a bar fight would soar to the top of the gossip list.

My stomach lurched at the implications of that.

If there was a video of Kameron’s actions last night, and it was posted on social media and the Warrior’s Foundation somehow saw it, they might pull Kameron’s chance to interview for the grant.

“Shit,” I whispered, throwing the covers back and grabbing one of Abbie’s cardigans from the closet. I’d never been more grateful for her insanely excessive collection of Taylor Swift cardigans than I was right now.

Leave it to Jacob to ruin everything we’d worked so hard for these last few weeks.

The sight of Kameron angry with his fist raised flashed before my eyes and my stomach turned over. I stumbled to the bathroom across the hell and puked my guts up. I prayed Abbie wasn’t awake yet. The last thing I wanted was for her to feel like she needed to take care of me now, too.

I rinsed my mouth out and brushed my teeth with one of the spare toothbrushes, and headed into the kitchen.

Abbie was making eggs in the kitchen, and Connor was sitting on the couch, reading a book.

“Have a seat, babe. Here’s your coffee,” Abbie said, flipping the egg and extending a cup of coffee to me. I took a seat on the couch opposite Connor, pulling the cardigan around my shoulders, trying not to look and feel out of place.

“Is it okay if I’m here?” Connor asked me so quietly I thought for a moment I’d imagined it.

My heart squeezed at the sincerity in his eyes. If I needed him to, he would leave. Somehow, he knew that being around another guy after being triggered on the level I was last night might not be the best thing for me.

But Connor didn’t have a mean bone in his body when it came to the people he cared about. I felt safe around him, if for no other reason than knowing that Abbie would absolutely lay his ass out if he ever did something out of line.

I hated myself a little for ever doubting the care this man had for Abbie, and by extension, her inner circle.

“Yeah,” I said, giving him a small smile. “I’m sorry for making things weird for everyone.”

Connor grimaced, but it quickly faded to a smile when Abbie came and delivered us each a plate of bacon and eggs. I set my mug down on the coffee table and took the plate from her outstretched hands.

“You didn’t make things weird. ”

Abbie kicked Connor’s leg under the coffee table as I took a sip of my coffee.

I raised my eyebrows, and Connor sighed.

“How are you feeling, Imogen?”

The bite of eggs I swallowed felt like ash in my mouth.

“How am I feeling?” I repeated, trying to find the words.

“I’m feeling like my ex-husband who abused me for years is back in town for reasons I don’t want to know.

I’m feeling like my mother is also back in town because God hates me.

I’m feeling like I watched the only person I’ve had a crush on in recent history punch my ex in the face, and then I had a panic attack in the bar, because I’m spiraling into thoughts about how men are violent and I was stupid for ever thinking I had a chance for a normal life and a normal relationship. ”

Connor blinked a few times, and even Abbie looked taken aback.

Way to go, Imogen.

“I’m sorry,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Thank you for letting me crash at your place last night, and for breakfast. I’m going to head home.”

“You know Kameron didn’t—”

“You should talk to him,” Connor cut her off gently.

Before I could stand to leave, Abbie turned to whisper something I couldn’t understand.

Connor shook his head placatingly. “I know what happened last night was probably shocking. Kameron doesn’t often get mad or show that side of himself, except for when it comes to the people he loves. ”

The people he loves.

My stomach lurched again. “I— ”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Connor said gently. “I’m just saying you should give him the chance to talk it out. Especially with the trip to Seattle.”

I groaned in despair. I’d almost forgotten about Seattle.

This was the worst possible timing for everything to break down.

“You are still planning to go to Seattle for the grant presentation, right?” Abbie asked, casting me a wary glance.

My answer was immediate.

“Yes,” I said. “Of course I’ll go to Seattle.

But I’m not talking about last night. Thank you both again for letting me stay the night and for taking care of me during my.

. . episode.” I waved a hand dismissively.

“But I’d prefer to just let the past be in the past. There’s no sense in rehashing it. ”

Connor looked about as convinced as I felt about the whole thing.

“What about Kameron?”

My heart squeezed.

“Kameron and I are friends,” I said, even though the statement felt like I was stabbing myself in the chest.

We were friends, but we were more than that too.

Connor and Abbie looked at each other, an entire conversation shared in a single glance.

This is exactly what I had been afraid of this whole time. Things were messy and awkward, and it was my fault. And the worst part was they didn’t even know the truth. They didn’t know that Kameron and I had been exploring things. They didn’t know about the conversations we’d had .

It was my fault for entering into something with Kameron that was never defined.

I couldn’t categorize my relationship with Kameron in an Excel document.

I couldn’t fit what we had between us into neat little boxes.

And now that those boxes were overflowing with everything I couldn’t manage, my friends were being affected.

This tension would spill over into the grant presentation.

And if Winding Road lost their chance at the Warrior’s Grant because of last night, I would never forgive myself.