“So why didn’t you tell me?” She whirled around to face him, standing so close he could smell her. He wanted to bury his face in her neck and never let her go. “You should’ve fought harder to make your point. I deserved to know.”
“They were your brothers. I thought they knew best,” he said, knowing his reasoning sounded weak. Shit, maybe it was weak. She was putting doubt in his head, making him feel like shit, and he probably deserved it. But damn it, he never wanted to hurt her. He wanted to protect her.
Always.
“I’m a grown woman who can take care of herself. Clearly, the men in my life believe otherwise.” She turned toward the bed again and zipped her bag closed before grabbing the handle and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’m leaving.”
“Where are you going?”
“To Delilah’s. She’s never there anyway, considering she’s always with Lane.” Tate stood directly in front of her, and she glared up at him. “Get out of my way.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Let me explain first.”
“There’s nothing to explain. You thought I couldn’t take care of myself. You’re probably right. So maybe I need to spend some time on my own until I can figure all of this out.”
“Figure all of what out?” He frowned, wishing he could keep her. He just wanted Wren. Nothing else mattered if he couldn’t have her in his life.
“This. My life. It’s kinda pitiful, don’t you think?” She flashed him a fake smile, then shoved past him, startling him so bad that it took him a second before he chased after her.
“Wren, don’t go.” He grabbed hold of her arm, and she turned to face him, the anger and hurt he saw blazing in her eyes nearly crushing him. “Let me explain.”
“Explain what? That you think I can’t handle the truth? That I’m just a pretty little girl who needs to be taken care of? I’m not scared of the arsonist supposedly targeting me. That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. What bothers me the most is that you didn’t side with me. You sided with my brothers. I never come first in my family, and I guess I don’t come first with you either.”
Jesus, how did this get so twisted up? He thought she might be mad that they kept this from her but not this mad. “You’re not being fair.”
“Neither were you. I deserved to know. You should’ve gone against my brothers’ wishes and told me. If you really . . . cared”—she stumbled over the last word—“you would’ve.”
He ran his fingers down her arm, but she jerked away from him. How could he calm her down and make her see his side if she was so angry? “I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step closer to her. “I fucked up. I never meant to hurt you, I promise. I just . . . I wanted to make sure you were safe. So did your brothers. We just wanted to protect you.”
“I don’t need this kind of protection.” She sniffed, and he swore he saw tears filling her eyes, but she blinked them away. “Good-bye, Tate.”
Before he could say another word, she turned and walked away from him, headed straight for the door. Headed straight out of his life.
And he didn’t know how to stop her.
Chapter Nineteen
“YOUR MISERY IS making me crazy,” Delilah muttered as she kicked at Wren’s foot. “Get off your ass, and let’s go for a run.”
“Hell no,” Wren muttered, shaking her head. She was sulking on the couch in Delilah’s living room, eating straight out of an ice cream carton and watching Judge Judy. It made her feel better that her life wasn’t as bad as some of the people who were on this trashy show, airing their dirty laundry for all the world to see.
“Then stop stuffing your face with ice cream, and talk to me.” Delilah sat next to her and swiped the spoon right out of Wren’s hand.
“Hey,” she protested. Delilah then plucked the carton of ice cream out of Wren’s other hand and set both on the side table next to her. “Give that back.”
“No.” Delilah shook her head, her ponytail swinging. She looked like her usual perfect self, dressed in a pair of black booty shorts and a pink sports-bra-top thing. She’d just come back from the dance studio after giving classes for the last two hours, and Wren wanted to punch Dee in her perfectly flat stomach. Ugh, her friend’s perfect body was just too much. “You need to stop sulking and start living. Look for a new place. Get your hair cut. Buy some clothes, plan a shopping day at IKEA for your future new place. Go out with Harper and me. Do something to get yourself out of your miserable head.”
A week had passed since she walked out of Tate’s house. Seven long, miserable days, and she wasn’t feeling any better about her rash decision. No, she felt worse. Maybe she shouldn’t have walked out on him after all. She probably should’ve listened to his explanation. She knew how overbearing her brothers could be. But she’d been so offended, so upset they’d think she couldn’t handle such bad news, she’d reacted instead of being proactive.
A habit she used to have when she was younger, thanks to her bossy older brothers. Their behavior reminded her so much of the past that she fell back into bad habits. Not a smart move. Had she lost Tate for good? He tried to call and text her the day she left, and the next day too. But then he went back to work—and his engine got called out on a big fire in Northern California. He was still gone, and she had no idea when he was coming back.
Had no idea i
f he would ever contact her again either.
And that’s what pushed her into the pit of despair these last few days. Where she never changed out of her pajamas and she didn’t wash her hair and she ate ice cream straight out of the carton. She was a pitiful mess who blew it with the best guy who ever could’ve happened to her.
“I don’t want to hang out with you and Harper. You two are sickeningly in love with my asshole brothers.” She was still irrationally pissed at West and Lane too. It was totally unfair on her part considering they’d wanted to protect her or whatever, but she couldn’t help herself.