Chasing Carly (Holiday Cove 3) - Page 21

“Glad to hear it,” I replied. “Have you talked to Mom and Dad lately?”

“No. Every time I call, Dad gets on and bitches at me. So I stopped calling.”

I set my jaw. That was the major difference between the two of us. Nate liked to run and hide from his problems. Whereas I preferred facing things head on, taking my hits, and moving on—lesson learned. He was nearly seven years younger than me, though, and my parents had definitely babied him as a kid. At least in comparison to the way I’d been raised.

Although, now that Nate had gotten into trouble, I think they were finally seeing that maybe that wasn’t the best route and my dad in particular seemed to want to make up for lost time by swooping in and breathing fire on Nate anytime he stepped out of line.

Ten years too late, Dad.

My ear perked at the sound of bawdy cheers and ruckus in the background. There were some muffled sounds, as though Nate were holding the phone against his chest to block the sound. I heard him say something but couldn’t make out all the words. It sounded a lot like a warning to hold it down for a minute.

“Listen, I gotta get going…” Nate said, returning to our call.

I rolled my eyes. “Something important from the sound of it. What is it? Last call coming up?”

“Goodbye Nick. Maybe next time when I call you can be less of a dick.”

The line went dead and I tossed the phone into the passenger seat. I blew out a forced breath as I started the engine, shaking my head with leftover irritation. Damn it, Nate.

We’d been buddies all throughout growing up, even with the age gap, and I hated that we’d lost that somewhere along the way. From the outside, we appeared to have everything in common. He was a Marine, I’d recently gotten out, and he was my spitting image. Hell, we even drove the same brand of truck and dated similar-looking women. But that was where it ended. While being a Marine had taught me discipline and responsibility, Nate was using it as a cover to run around, act like an idiot, and had fallen in with a very different crowd than the friends I’d made during my time in the Marine Corps.

There was a chance he’d grow up and pull out of his juvenile antics. I hoped it would happen soon before he fucked something up that couldn’t be fixed. As I drove back through town to my rental, I passed the strip of shops where The Siren was and saw that the lights were still on inside the small coffee shop. I’d never bothered to look at the official business hours, but as I slowed and turned into the lot, I couldn’t help but wonder if Carly ever left the damn place.

I parked in front and spotted her at the counter, her head down, focused on something on the other side. I went inside and she didn’t even register the soft tinkle of the bell on the door. She was scrubbing furiously at a spot on the counter and appeared completely lost in her own world.

“Hey there,” I said, approaching cautiously, like a person approaching a loose tiger. I had no idea what she was upset about, but the tension was palpable, and I knew I didn’t want that fire directed at me. “Everything okay?”

Carly jerked up at my question, a look of surprise on her face. “Oh, Nick. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“No worries. Are you all right?”

She nodded, but the lines around her mouth were tense and tight. She dropped the sponge and it landed with a wet plop on the counter. Suds from the cleaner flicked up on to her apron. She scowled down at her front and brushed away the bubbles. “Perfect,” she growled.

“What’s going on?”

Carly heaved a sigh and abandoned her mission to wipe away the suds from her apron. “Nothing.” She rolled her eyes, seemingly at herself. “Okay, not nothing,” she admitted.

“Hey, I get it if you don’t want to talk.” I pocketed my hands in the front of my jeans and shifted my weight to one side. “But if you do, just know that I’m here.”

Her jewel-toned blue eyes flashed to mine as though startled by my simple offer to listen. I wondered if she ever let anyone in. From what Aaron told me when I first asked about her, she didn’t share personal details freely. But it was hard for me to imagine she didn’t have at least one friend that was a confidant to her.

Who was she? If it weren’t for her pink hair and piercings, I would’ve assumed that back in high school, she had been the head cheerleader, homecoming queen, the fantasy of every guy in school type of girl.

Tags: K.B. Winters Holiday Cove Romance
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