Crazy (The Gibson Boys 4)

“You were that beat up about him that your friend had to move here to keep you company?”

“No.” She rolls her eyes. “Just perfect timing. Dylan’s pretty stressed out and wanted to kind of get away from everything. She tells herself I need her to justify it in her own mind, but I’m fine. You know that.”

I raise a brow to silently challenge that idea. Navie may always pretend she’s fine, but I have doubts. She’s strong as hell. She’s smart. She’s capable. But she’s a human being with weaknesses like the rest of us, much to her chagrin.

Her answer is to stick her tongue out at me.

“Logan?” I ask again.

“Shut up, Peck.” She shakes her head again. “Not my best decision, I’ll agree, but it was okay for a while.”

I tip my bottle toward her. “I’m gonna doubt that.”

“My heart is a little tender, okay? I’d appreciate a bit of pity.”

I watch her over the lip of the bottle as I down the rest of my beer. I set it on the bar and knock it with the back of my hand. It sails down the smooth bar top and falls into the trashcan at the end with a satisfying clink!

“I should eat the rest of that sandwich,” Navie says. “Eating out is going to get expensive, and I don’t have that kind of expendable income. Heck, I don’t have a lot of non-expendable income.”

“Why don’t you just cook?”

“Mind ya business, Peck.” She sticks her tongue out again as she pulls a stack of napkins off the shelf behind her.

I climb off the bar. Taking my hat off, I run my fingers through my blond hair. That was a warning not to press, and I want to respect her request, but I also want to make sure she understands why I was pressing.

“Do you need anything, Navie?”

Her eyes fly to mine as she sets the napkins on the bar. “Why did you ask me that?”

“I don’t know. Seems like a fair thing to ask a friend.”

“Yes. I’m fine. Thanks for asking, friend.” She smiles before looking down at the napkins. “The world needs more men like you.”

“Convince Molly of that.”

She looks up and laughs. “I’m never gonna understand your infatuation with her. Never.”

“And I’m never gonna understand why you’d even breathe the same air as Logan.” I signal goodbye and head to the door. “Add my drink to my tab. And that twenty for the gas unless you accidentally forget. That’s cool too.”

“Goodbye, Peck.”

I keep my head down to avoid the sun as I step back outside. I can completely understand why Dylan called me a jackass now. She thinks I’m Logan. Navie and Logan? Makes me sick. That’s not even being lonely. That’s being … stupid.

A grin splits my cheeks as I imagine the look on Dylan’s face when she realizes her mistake. A chuckle rumbles past my lips as I consider the reaction of that little spitfire when that happens because it will. Linton is too small of a town for it not to.

Trudging along the sidewalk, my mind goes to the text I got from Nana earlier about coming over for dinner. I told her I’d be by, partly because I love fried chicken and partly because I can’t tell her no.

But as I climb in my car, I do some quick math. I can be at Nana’s in ten minutes, and she’s expecting me in about twenty. I start to take off when I see Navie’s car tucked in behind Crave.

“I’ve been late before,” I grumble and head the opposite way of Nana’s.

Three

Dylan

“That hurts.”

I wince. My little toe that’s silently screaming for assistance is swollen. It’s a shade of red like it’s been slapped … or taken a sucker punch from the corner of my suitcase, which is what actually happened.

“Darn thing,” I groan. Hobbling over to the sofa, I collapse against a pile of pillows. There’s one covered in pink sequins, and another that’s a soft, bright yellow that looks like it’s been crocheted. Next to that is my personal favorite—a blue, almost water-like design that evokes serenity.

Usually. My throbbing toe kind of supersedes the Zen.

Navie’s apartment is small but cute as a button. There’s an abstract painting of what I think is a farm over the couch, and a lime green and gray rug that stretches across the living room. A diffuser sits on the little round table in the area that’s probably pitched as a dining room slash breakfast nook.

I hold my toe and work it back and forth. The pain burns at first and slowly subsides as I tend to it. Sinking back into the pillows, I fill my lungs with oxygen. They inflate … effortlessly, which is a surprise.

There has been a tightness in my chest for as long as I can remember.