Page 14

It’s our team's break. I should be at the beach, kicking a soccer ball around with my teammates. But no, I’m heading north into the mountains, in the middle of nowhere, Georgia, with Abby.

Not to mention some of Greyson’s teammates will be there, too.

No one can tell me I’m not taking one for the team here.

My hand moves to turn the volume down, and it’s met with a harsh smack.

“I can’t listen to this the entire drive.

Put headphones on or something.” We’re only forty-five minutes in, and I’m already over every bit of this trip.

After shopping for decorations earlier this week, picking up whatever Greyson needed last minute, and both our bags, her Grand Cherokee is stuffed to the point I can’t even recline my seat.

I’m six foot two for crying out loud. I don’t fit, and this music is way too loud.

And it’s country. Who the hell has a playlist that goes from Pantera to country? That’s some anomaly.

Her head turns toward me before refocusing on the road. Her eyes roll, the right one twitching a bit before she reaches into a bag in the back seat. The car jerks as she rummages around looking for whatever it is she’s looking for.

“Geez, woman. Tell me what you want, and I’ll get it. I don’t want to die today.” I’ve never met a more stubborn person than the on e sitting next to me. She doesn’t say a word, just yanks her bag from the back seat onto her lap and continues her perusal of the mystery item.

She pulls out a pair of purple sparkly headphones, the big obnoxious kind that go over your ears.

Placing them on top of her thighs, she flings her bag into the backseat, but not before it smacks the dead center of my chest. “Oops, sorry.” Her eyelashes flutter in faux innocence.

Brat. At least the music is gone, for now.

I lean my head against the window, pulling the string of my hoodie so it pulls down over my eyes.

Maybe if I fall asleep for an hour or so, this will be a more manageable drive.

I stir when I feel the car come to a stop. “Where are we?”

“Tifton. It’s the halfway point.” Halfway?! I was asleep for four hours.

“Shoot, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep for that long.

” My hand finds the back of my neck, and I squeeze like I always do when I’m nervous.

What is it with me and falling asleep in the car with her?

She gives me a small, self-deprecating smile, and it feels like a needle in the heart. Why does that hurt?

I take her in as she sits in the driver’s seat.

She looks so small. I mean, she’s a foot shorter than me on a good day, but right now she looks almost broken.

There are bags under her eyes that usually aren’t there, and her oversized sweatshirt has a coffee stain right in the center of it.

Her hair is pulled up into a bun, but there are pieces sticking out in all directions.

The light that usually shines so bright in her eyes is gone.

Her lack of cattiness is the biggest giveaway that she isn’t okay.

I’m not good with feelings, “Emotionally stunted,” my dad calls it.

All my empathy left the second Nikki walked out of my room in college.

Which, I’m assuming, is the reason Dr. Willia ms says I need to work on letting people in.

How am I ever going to end up with friends, let alone a wife, if I can’t do basic things like feel sorry for someone when they’re sad? Or provide comfort when they need it?

I guess I just haven’t found the right person to bring it back out for yet.

Maybe it’s something I can try with Abby.

Let her see the softer side of me that I’ve kept hidden all these years.

We fight like cats and dogs, there’s no chance of either of us falling for the other.

It’s a safe test run. I kind of miss that guy if I’m being honest. I don’t want to be alone forever.

But I also don’t want to get burned again.

I’ll make this week Tatum’s emotional boot camp. No one will even know. I’ll just slowly work on being her friend. Then maybe, just maybe, Hannah’s little friend. What was her name? Kelsey? Whatever it is, maybe she can be my first official test run. Who knows, she could be the future Mrs. Wilder.

“You can drive the rest of the way if you want.” Her eyes hold mine, but she looks away after a few seconds.

I nod as I push my door open, stretching out my body.

My arms reach over my head as I lean to one side, cracking my back.

I feel her eyes on me, but I don’t turn around.

After I run inside and grab an energy drink, I slide into the driver's seat and adjust it as much as I can. It’s not a comfortable fit by any means. But I make it work.

My fingers drum against the steering wheel, the steady hum of the tires on the highway is the only soundtrack playing at the moment.

So, naturally, like any good friend would, it’s time to annoy her while we’re locked in the car.

“If you had to be haunted by a ghost who only caused minor annoyances, who would you choose?”

––––––– –

Her head slowly turns toward me like I just asked her to sign her life away to one of those timeshare salesmen. “What?”

“Oh, come on, Tink. Don’t make me repeat myself.” I smirk. “Pick one.”

She exhales with such force it’s like she’s considering throwing herself out of the moving car instead of indulging me, but she finally says, “I don’t know... Maybe some romance author who follows me around dramatically reciting declarations of love at the worst possible time.”

My eyes crinkle at the corners as I chuckle. “Yeah, that’s fitting.”

Her eyebrow hikes in my direction, arms crossing over her chest. “What would your answer be?”

“Easy peasy.” I don’t even have to think about it, maybe because I’ve thought about it on one of the many aimless rides I’ve taken to clear my head. “Some dude from the 1800s who’s really confused by modern technology. The possibilities to mess with him are endless.”

She shakes her head, but I swear I catch her trying to smother her smile. “You’re insufferable.” That I am. Okay, time for the next one.

“If you had to fight one farm animal to the death, which one would you pick?” She blinks at me like I’ve finally lost it. “Farm animal. Mano y Mano. No weapons, just your bare hands, and pure willpower.”

“What is wrong with you?” She rubs her temples, which lets me know my little game is working.

I shrug. “My brain’s gotta entertain itself somehow. ”

“Oh, you have one of those? I thought you missed that line when God made you.”

One second, I’m trying to annoy her because it’s my favorite pastime at the moment.

The next she fires back so quickly it knocks the wind out of me.

Before I can stop it, I laugh. Not just a scoff or the challenging smirk I throw her way when she’s being more abrasive than normal.

A real laugh. One that shakes loose in my chest like it’s been dying to see the light of day, buried under fortified layers of trust issues and stubbornness.

I shake my head, trying to wipe the grin off my face. But I can’t deny that it felt good to laugh like that. Something in me unlocks, a tightness I didn’t even realize had a hold on me, eases for the first time in, well, longer than I’d like to admit. “Well played, but I’m gonna need an answer.”

“I’m not answering that,” she says to her window as she watches the trees pass by on the side of the highway.

“Pretty please!” I push, “I’m not above begging. This is a life or death scenario we're talking about here.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Fine,” I say, “But just know if a random goat attacks you, I’m not stepping in.”

She turns her head to face me, her eyes half-lidded as she gives me the most annoyed stare I’ve ever seen from her.

I let the silence stretch for exactly ten Mississippi’s before I hit her with, “Follow-up question. If I was being attacked by a goat, would you save me, or let nature take its course?”

Her eyes fall shut as she mutters, “Give me strength” under her breath. When her eyes open again, she deadpans. “I’d let the goat win. ”

I gasp, the back of my hand meeting my forehead in the most dramatic fashion I can muster while driving a car at eighty miles an hour. “You’re heartless, Knight.” She shakes her head, but that time, a smile blooms. It’s a soft, closed-mouth one, but it’s something, and I’ll take it.

That wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be.

In fact, talking with Abby is almost easier than talking to my brother, and that’s saying something considering he could talk to a brick wall.

Something about her when she’s unguarded like this pulls at the carefree part of me, the part of me that wants to throw caution to the wind and do whatever the heck I want. Maybe she just knows I need a friend.

“Come on! You’re taller than me, why can’t you just hang it up?” She whines as the ‘Hannah and Greyson’s Last Rodeo’ banner hangs in her hands.

Simple, I get great satisfaction from watching you struggle.

“Because this was on the ‘Maid of Honor’ duties list, not mine.” Her head tilts back, her eyes finding a spot on the wooden beams that line the ceiling as she takes a few deep breaths, her chest heaving and her long, slender neck on full display.

My intrusive thoughts are telling me to go over and bite it, but I smother those thoughts quickly.

There’s a frown on her face when she finally looks back at me. “Fine, go do whatever ‘Best Man’ duties you have then. Stop micromanaging me. ”

I don’t need to be told twice. I walk into the room Hannah and my brother are sharing, and I hang up the picture of them from when she first told him she loved him.

She’s leaning over the railing while he’s standing on the other side in full hockey gear.

He puts this picture everywhere he can get away with.