Crave (The Gibson Boys 3)
“You can come with us. The play doesn’t start for an hour. You can make it if you leave Linton now.”
“No,” I say, feeling my spirits sink. “You guys have fun. I’ll find something to do.”
“Where’s Emily?”
“She might come by later. I’m just bored, I guess.” I sigh. “Go have fun. I’ll come by tomorrow. You working at the gym?”
“Yup. Come by and I’ll let you kick my ass for a while.”
“Deal. Bye, Cross.”
“Bye, Had.”
I set the phone on the table, and it goes off immediately. Samuel’s face flashes on the screen, and I silence it without a second thought because I have no thoughts to give. They’re all with a dark-haired bartender that I hope I can figure out how to live with. And without.
* * *
Machlan
“I can’t live with her,” I say to myself. “And I can’t live without her.”
A wrench flies from my hand into one of the red toolboxes lining the garage. It gives a satisfying ping as it clamors against the metal.
My hands are a greasy mess, and my shirt is soaked with oil. Working on my dad’s old truck usually takes my mind off everything, but it failed me today.
Rinsing the grime off my skin in the basin by the door, I wish it were as easy to do the same to my brain. A little water, a pump of soap, and boom—Hadley is gone.
“I didn’t know you still knew how to do that.” Walker’s voice makes me jump.
I knock my elbow into the side of the sink. “Ouch.” Flicking the water off my hands, I cradle my arm and turn to face him. “What are you doing here?”
“We just got back from the airport, and Sienna passed out. She went nonstop the whole time her family was here.” He shrugs. “Guess I just thought I’d come by and see what you were up to.”
“Should’ve called and I would’ve waited on you to help me with this thing.” I knock my knuckle against the side of the truck. “Every time I fuck with it, I tell myself it’s a pain in the ass and I should just get rid of it. But, you know …”
Walker comes into the garage. “Yeah. How do you get rid of Dad’s pride and joy? I mean, it’s not worth shit and just takes up space, but what are ya gonna do? Sell it?”
“Exactly.”
I take in the hunk of metal my dad loved more than anything except Mom and us kids. He and our grandfather rebuilt it from the ground up, and although Dad never drove it anywhere, he changed the oil in it every few months. So, I do too.
Even though I bitch every time I come out here with the new filter in my hand, I do it. And the whole time I’m working on it, griping under my breath, I think about my dad.
I hate I didn’t really get to know him as a man. There are a lot of things I’d like to chat with him about, things I’d like to get his advice on.
I’ll never forgive myself for not going with them that Fourth of July.
“I heard Hadley was at dinner at Nana’s,” Walker says, testing the waters.
I nod, biting the inside of my cheek as I test the waters right beside him.
“That’s good,” he says. “She’s a good girl, you know.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then what the fuck are you waiting on?”
My cheek pops free of my teeth, and I turn my back to Walker. I busy myself with sorting wrenches until I hear my brother laugh at me from the other side of the garage.
“You know what? Fuck you,” I say.
“I’m getting plenty of pussy. It’s you that I’m worried about. You’re not getting any, and it’s turning you into one.”
As much as I want to argue with him, I can’t. I am turning into a pussy. My silence only proves his point.
“I get this shit is hard,” Walker says. “Do you even know how much of my work Sienna just gives away like I’m running some charity operation? I’ve had to ban her from Crank most days just so I’m not in the red.” He leans against the truck. “It’s not easy. But if it was, would you want it?”
“I’d want Hadley either way.”
Walker raises a brow. I look the other way.
“Seems to me,” Lance says, strolling into the garage, “that someone once told me to grow a pair of balls. To stop overcomplicating things.”
“Yeah, well, that’s when it was you.” I face my oldest brother. “Why the fuck are you here?”
“Just driving by and saw Walker’s truck and thought, ‘Eh, why the hell not invite myself over?’ Is this a private conversation? Not that I care if it is.”
“This wasn’t even a conversation until you assholes showed up.” I head into the house and leave the door open behind me because I’m certain they’ll follow.