Trouble (Dogwood Lane 3)

He smacks his lips together as his chest bounces with a quiet laugh. “One of these days, you’re going to have to realize that you’re a mortal just like the rest of us.”

“Nah. That’s a rumor.”

He snorts. “Look, Penn. You’re a giant pain in my ass. You waste more of my time than any other human being in the world. You’ve gotten me in more trouble than anyone I know. You make me do all the trim at work, and you still haven’t paid me back for demolishing my bumper.”

“Take it up with the deer that jumped out in front of me. Or with your brother, who just had to have treated posts on the jobsite when he got there the next morning.”

“Or you could’ve taken them the evening before like you were supposed to.”

I grin. “I had plans.”

Matt sighs, shaking his head.

We stand around, feeling each other out. This isn’t a conversation we have often. Or ever. Matt doesn’t date a bunch, and when he does, he’s not talking about it much with me. I’m never asking him for advice or needing to talk shit out. This is new ground for us. I don’t think either of us particularly knows how to get where he wants to go.

“Look,” he says after mulling it over for a while. “You’ve made a career out of not settling down. I get it. No problems with it.” He makes a face. “I kind of admire it in a really weird, kind of sick way.”

“Hey, thanks,” I say, appreciating the compliment.

He laughs. “That wasn’t meant to be taken the way you just took it. Anyway, you’ve managed to avoid getting to the root of your antirelationship strategy for a long time. Maybe now’s a good time to think about it and fix it.”

“And why would I do something like that?”

“So you can be happy.”

“I’m happy. I’ve never not been happy. I’m the happiest motherfucker on the planet.”

“But you could be happier.”

I blink. “I just said I’m the happiest motherfucker on the planet. Did you not hear me?”

He looks at me like I’m certifiable, like there’s a padded cell somewhere with a person in a white coat on standby.

He’s wrong. I’m not crazy. I might joke around about it and have a few different excuses just so I don’t have to talk about it honestly, but I know exactly why I don’t want a relationship. It comes from the most logical, uncrazy part of my brain.

Matt takes a deep breath. “What if you managed to convince Avery to give you a shot? She’s a nice girl, Penn. You two could have something together.”

“The only thing I want with her are orgasms.”

He looks at the sky like it’s somehow going to change my mind.

“I’m just not that guy,” I say. “Never have been. Never will. It’s just not in my DNA.”

“I think your DNA is what’s to blame.”

His head lowers and he faces me again. I know what he’s thinking. I can see it in the way he holds his mouth—a firm, tight line.

Matt’s never said it, but he thinks my lack of wanting to couple up with someone is because of my father. He thinks that because my dad made our household a living Hell, loving my mom and me one minute and then not really giving a flying fuck the next, I’ve shut myself off from allowing anyone that kind of closeness with me again.

Matt would be right.

I, however, will not admit it. Saying it out loud would make me feel like I need the white-coat guy.

It’s not that Matt wouldn’t understand it. Hell, he gets it without my admission. But in his “rose-colored glasses” view of the world, he’d try to rationalize the irrational. He would try to explain away my parents’ behaviors and prove to me that there’s more out there for me.

There’s not. I’m okay with it. I’m not sure Matt would be, though. It might ruin his view of the world, and who am I to do that?

I wrap my arm around his neck and start walking toward the door. “For the record, if you were a girl, I’d totally date you.”

He shoves me off him, toward the brick wall. “You’re a prick, Etling.”

I laugh as I follow him inside.

CHAPTER TWELVE

PENN

Meredith’s perfume, the tapping of her heels, the yapping of her dog all make their way to us before she does.

“Hello, Penn. Hi, Matt,” she says. “It’s so good to see you guys again.”

Meredith’s tone is way too high for this time of day. Or any time of day. Why does anyone ever need to be that chirpy?

“Hey, Meredith,” I say, trying not to wince.

The poodle in her arms has a yellow collar with rhinestones wrapped around it. I swear the dog assesses me and labels me unworthy to breathe the same air it does.