Page 24

I storm out of Abby’s room, letting the bathroom door slam behind me.

As soon as she brought up “a nice guy,” my blood started boiling.

Things have been easier between us since we got here.

The hate I thought we held for each other may, in all reality, be something we just fell into because it was easier that way.

There’s a forbidden fruit kind of attraction here.

One I’m dying to explore, for more than one reason.

But what solidified said attraction for me was when she planted herself in my lap and fell asleep.

She let herself be vulnerable around me, to trust me enough to keep her safe while she couldn’t do it herself.

Is it just that I can’t have her, and that’s why I’m so worked up about it?

Or is it the fact that she’s told me multiple times we can’t do this, but then her body tells me a totally different story?

Mostly, I’m trying to figure out how I get her to let me explore this.

How is it that the first woman since Nikki to get an ounce of my attention is my soon-to-be sister-in-law's best friend? The person who has pushed every single button I have over the past two years. The one who challenges me on everything, who fights with me over the stupidest things, like how many times it’s acceptable to say “cock” in a book.

Or how many reps is best for muscle gain?

I pace the length of my room, my hand running through my hair as I try to figure out why I suddenly feel like she’s mine. Like I have some sort of claim to her. All I know is the thought of her with someone else doesn’t sit right. Hell, the thought of me with someone else doesn’t sit right .

I still as the bathroom door slowly pushes open, and Hannah sticks her head in. She takes in how hard I’m tugging my hair, and a look of concern immediately crosses her face. “Did I say something to make you mad?” she asks in that warm, motherly tone that could melt the polar ice caps.

My hands drop to my sides as I sit on the bed.

Luckily, she’s used to me not saying much, which buys me some time to come up with something other than I want her best friend.

With a sigh, I lean forward on my knees and look at her.

“No, it just kinda clicked that Greyson won’t be around as much once you guys get hitched.

” The tiny fireball dares to snort. My eyebrows pull low in response.

Her butt hits the bed next to me, her hand coming to my shoulder.

“Tate, there is nothing that could come between you and your brother. Not even me.” I nod.

I know she’d never get between us; she’s been trying to build a bridge between her and I from the start.

But I also know that, in all reality, the wife comes before anything else.

I’ve seen it with my parents. I admire it, honestly.

“I know, I just know you’ll be doing coupley things, and that’ll infringe on bro time.” Her responding smile lets me know I’m not going to like what comes out of her mouth next.

“Well, I talked to Chelsea yesterday. She said I could give you her number. If you want it, that is. Then you can do ‘coupley’ things with us.” That is the absolute last thing I want. I have no interest in whoever this person is anymore. Not that I ever really did, if I’m being honest.

The hopeful look on her face is the only explanation for why I nod and say, “Okay, Han.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, my eyes lock on Abby, who just pushed the door open a little further. I’m immediately smacked with the consequences of my own actions.

The transformation is visible, her eyes harden, her shoulders straighten, and her jaw clenches a few times.

The walls she’d lowered for me over the past few days slam back into place like a fortress on lockdown.

The Abby who had let me see the raw, unguarded version of herself is gone.

In her place is the tough, closed off version that kept me at arm's length.

The one who wields sarcasm like a weapon and buries her emotions so deep she probably forgets they even exist.

And it’s my fault. My fault for not telling Hannah no. My stomach sinks as I register the brief flicker of hurt in her eyes. A hurt I put there. A sick, twisting sensation spreads through my chest when it hits me, the emotion I’d been seeing in her since we got here.

Hope.

A hope so fragile, so fleeting that I hadn’t even noticed it until I watched it die right in front of me. The vice around my heart threatens to strangle the organ to death. She feels whatever this is between us. The connection neither of us wanted in the first place, now severed by my own hand.

My hands clench into fists at my sides, my jaw tensing so tightly it hurts.

But do I say anything? No, because I’m a freaking coward, because I don’t know how to want something without the fear of losing it.

Because I don’t trust myself not to ruin it, not to let her down in all the ways I’ve let myself down.

Telling myself to run because it’s easier than falling for someone and handing over the power to ruin my life, again.

Maybe I’d rather let her walk away now than face the fact that I’m starting to feel like I need her to stay .

She turns and heads back to her side without a second glance.

She doesn’t come out for the rest of the night.

She doesn't cook, just orders us pizza and hides in her room, not opening the door for anyone.

I know she's spiraling in there, and I'm helpless to stop it. I’m back on the outside, locked out in the chill of her indifference.

And damn, I hate it.

I tossed and turned all night, sleep just out of reach.

Every time I closed my eyes, the conversation would play out in my head, Hannah saying something about her friend.

Me agreeing just to save face, and Abby hearing it.

My response was careless, like it didn’t matter.

Like she didn’t matter. Except it does. She does, and that moment of cowardice may have convinced her otherwise.

I kept listening for any movement from the other side of the bathroom; in fact, I left my side cracked open like some pathetic peace offering.

It’s now 4:30 AM, the usual time we’d get up to go run but this morning, there’s nothing but silence.

Suffocating silence. Normally, the thought of pissing the pixie off would excite me, right now though, I’m unsettled.

Her reaction to catching that conversation told me everything I needed to know.

It wasn’t just me wrestling with conflicting feelings—the shoulds and shouldn’ts between us.

I asked her to let go with me, I offered her a safe space, then I took it away right when she let me in.

Did I ruin whatever was bu ilding between us before I even had the balls to admit I wanted it? Wanted her?

Screw it.

I roll to my side, all but log rolling out of bed.

Yanking on my running gear, I tell myself that if I can get through this run, I can convince her I was just trying to keep Hannah happy this week.

I brush my teeth and run a hand through my hair to make it look semi-decent.

Not like it matters because I’m going to mess it up as we run, anyway.

If we run. The thought hurts like a thousand simultaneous bee stings.

I close the remaining distance to her side of the bathroom, quietly turning the knob, I stick my head in.

Son of a... Her bed is perfectly made, she’s not here.

I jog back to my side, throw my door open, and start searching the house.

Surely she didn’t go run by herself. “She’s gone.

” Reed’s voice cuts through the otherwise silent house.

I’m pretty sure I jump a good foot off the ground. Why is he up this early?

I turn to face him, my fingers dig into my palms, as I try to keep my panic at bay. “Gone?” His curt nod tells me he isn’t happy about it. He pushes to stand and walks across the room stopping inches from my chest. “We were supposed to go run, where’d she go?”

A hum sounds from the back of his throat, his eyes searching my face. “I figured you had something to do with it, hence why I’m up at this ungodly hour.” He takes a small step back and runs a hand down his face. “But looking at you, you’re just as confused as I am.”

Okay, now I’m even more lost. “She took the car.” My eyes bulge.

He chuckles as he continues. “And all her stuff.” If my jaw wasn’t attached to me, it would be lying on the floor.

Then my mind l ands on the texts. Did she get another one and is trying to protect the people in the house or is she running from me?

She just... left? “Does Hannah know she’s gone?

” My voice comes out hoarse. He shakes his head, eyes locked on mine.

“Did she tell you where she was going?” He walks back to the living room and parks himself in the chair he was previously in.

Leaning forward, he places his elbows on his knees and steeples his fingers in front of his mouth.

After what feels like forever waiting for an answer, he leans back, letting his head hit the back of the chair.

“No, she didn’t. Just that she was overwhelmed and needed some time to herself.

” Hannah is going to be devastated if she wakes up and realizes her best friend isn’t here.

Damn it. I should have said no to Hannah, I should have kissed her the second she sat on my lap.

I should have done anything other than walk out of that room.

Before I can ask any more questions, like how long she’s been gone, soft footsteps enter the room.

Speak of the freaking devil. “Hey guys,” Hannah says as she rubs her eyes, her small, sad smile lets me know she’s probably here to get water for my brother who’s having a panic attack or one of his hard days.