Craft (The Gibson Boys 2)

“Go to Hell,” I groan, my stomach twisting with the drink.

“No, I don’t think I’ll join you tonight in Tequila Town. I like my insides just the way they are.”

“I hate you.”

“You’ve said that.” He chuckles at his own stupid comeback. “Anyway, I’m going to assume she likes you.”

This is enough to get me to lift my head. “Of course she does. Everyone likes me.”

“How could they not? Feel that charm?”

“She was feeling something and it wasn’t just my charm.”

“Good God,” he scoffs.

“She said something similar, yeah.”

He gets to his feet, taking the tequila with him. “If she likes you and you’re all crybaby over her, what’s the problem?”

My head throbs as I raise it solely for the purpose of glaring at him. Instead of narrowing, my eyes close. All I know is that Peck’s hand on my shoulder keeps me from falling out of my chair.

“Get me some water.” I place both hands on the table. “Who let me drink that shit?”

“You’re a grown up. You did it yourself.” The faucet turns on and off, then a glass sits in front of me. “Here. See if this helps. Did you eat today?”

I grin up at him and he shakes his head.

“Food, Lance. Did you eat food?”

“Yes, Peck. I ate food.” I sip the water, but the extra fluid in my stomach doesn’t help anything. Scrubbing my hands down my face, I try to wake up and pay attention. “Okay. What did you ask me?”

“I asked you what the problem was.”

I could tell him the truth. Mariah is way too good for me. I could tell him the other truth—that I would never be able to meet her conditions. I could go further and tell him the rest of the truth but I don’t really want to say any of that out loud. Just thinking of it has the alcohol sitting at the base of my throat.

“I’m going to tell you a little something about relationships, Peck.”

“Gee. I can’t wait.”

My glare is better this time. He at least sits down.

“They all come with a condition,” I tell him. “Like, we can be together but you must not have sex with other women. Or I must be able to go through your phone at any time to ensure you’re behaving. Or you must make a certain amount of money.” I force a swallow, the saliva hitting the pool of acid in my gut. “Or you must be willing to father x-number of children and have a house by the lake. That kind of thing.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I could never meet Mariah’s conditions.”

My stomach rolls and I have to close my eyes to keep it from spilling over. I blame it on the tequila, which I don’t consume much, but I’m fairly sure I’d feel just as sick saying that out loud even if I weren’t half-inebriated.

“Do you know that?”

“Yup.”

“You’ve had this conversation then?” he asks, the lines on his forehead creasing. “You’ve asked her to have a relationship?”

“Fuck no,” I wobble. “But I know her well enough to know what her conditions would be.”

Or what they should be. She should want everything the world has to offer her. She probably does. Nah, she does. I know she does. Why wouldn’t she?

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “I love how you think you know what she wants.”

“I don’t think. I know.”

“And those are completely unacceptable to you? You’d rather not be with the only woman I’ve seen fuck you all the way up than compromise?”

I nod slowly to keep from puking all over the table.

“What do you want from me?” he asks. “Sympathy?”

“I don’t want your sympathy. I didn’t even ask you to come here with your dumbass questions.”

Peck leans back in his chair, tapping a boot-clad foot against the hardwood floors. He crosses his arms over his shirt and watches me for a long time.

I sip the rest of the water, trying to clear my head. If Peck hadn’t shown up, I could’ve been in bed by now. Asleep. Not thinking about Mariah.

“What’s her condition?” he asks.

My lungs constrict as I consider telling Peck the one thing no one knows but Blaire. My head feels heavy, threatening to fall off my shoulders and roll around on the floor. I may as well let it because as soon as I say this, my nuts will be gone.

“Remember just after I graduated high school?” I ask. “And I was in that car wreck down by the lake? It was right before the Water Festival.”

“Yeah. You missed the entire festival that year. Were in the hospital for a couple weeks, right?”

I nod. Focusing on the knives stuck to the magnetic wall behind the stove and not on Peck, I decide I can’t talk to Blaire about this. Even though she knows, she’s too clinical about things. I couldn’t tell Walker or Machlan. All that leaves is Peck.